CHAPTER 4

Paid Service Begins (4)

A hollow laugh escaped me.

I rubbed my eyes, thinking it must be a joke, but no—it was unmistakable.

The file extension was .TXT.

So this person… seriously just sent me the text version of their own novel as a gift?

> [You have acquired an exclusive trait.]

[Exclusive skill slot activated.]

As I opened the file, a message echoed in my ears.

If the world had changed into that of Annihilation Law, it wouldn't have been surprising.

Survivors in Annihilation Law all gain exclusive traits and bodies capable of using exclusive skills.

I quietly thought, Trait Window. If I had gained a trait, I needed to know what it was.

> [Trait Window cannot be activated.]

…What?

I tried saying Trait Window again, but the result was the same.

Unbelievable.

What the hell is this?

If I couldn't use the Trait Window, I had no way of knowing what trait or skills I possessed.

They say know yourself and know your enemy, and you will win every battle—but this was a situation where I didn't even know myself.

Staring blankly into the air for a moment, I gave up and decided to read the novel text the author sent me.

> [Reading speed increased due to the effect of your exclusive trait.]

I didn't know what my trait was, but maybe because of it, I managed to get through the beginning of Annihilation Law in under a minute.

There it was.

My finger stopped at a scene early in the story—the protagonist trying to carry out some "action" in the train car.

> He looked at the people gathered at the rear door of Car 3707. The flint wheel of the tightly-gripped lighter felt cold.

This time, there would be no mistakes. For his purpose, he would spare no means.

The expressions of people trembling in fear.

There was no guilt.

Because everything would be over in an instant.

He scanned the people with a cold gaze. Moments later, a spark ignited at his fingertips—shhck—and it all began.

A chill ran down my spine, and I had to reread that part several times.

The source of my unease was quickly revealed.

"...3707."

I reflexively checked the number of the train car I was in.

> [3807]

The car I was riding in was directly behind the protagonist's car in the prologue.

A faint tremble crept into my fingertips.

…Wait a second.

Then what was the fate of the people in this car?

> He looked through the blurry window at the chaos erupting in Car 3807.

Too late already? It couldn't be helped. Only two people would survive that car anyway.

Only two survivors.

Everyone else in this car would die.

And I already knew who those two were.

I dumbly lifted my head to look at Yoo Sang-ah.

She… was probably going to die.

And so was I.

"Hey, Reader… shouldn't we stop that?"

Yoo Sang-ah pointed to a spot where something was already unfolding.

Wheezing sobs. A hunched old woman and a young man's fierce expression.

"You fucker, I'm already in a shitty mood and now this hag won't stop whining? Want me to shut you up?!"

The young man was a high schooler leaning near the entrance.

Thin build, bleached white hair. His name was written on the name tag on his school uniform:

Kim Namwoon.

As expected, a name I recognized.

> Only Lee Hyun-sung and Kim Namwoon will survive that car.

Doesn't matter. They're the only ones I need anyway.

"I said shut up!"

An agitated Kim Namwoon grabbed the old lady by the collar. Her weak legs flailed helplessly.

His palm sliced through the air.

Smack, smack, smack.

Normally, anyone would've rushed in to stop it, but no one moved.

Soon the slaps turned into punches.

"P-please… please spare meee…!"

The sound of flesh crumpling beneath hard knuckles rang out.

A few men hesitated around Kim Namwoon, unable to bear watching—but no one stepped up.

The one who unexpectedly rolled up his sleeves first was Department Head Han Myung-oh.

"You little punk, you think you can lay hands on a senior—!"

But just as he was about to act tough, Kim Namwoon shot back with a sneering voice:

"You wanna die, old man?"

"…What?"

"Still not getting it?"

"What the hell are you blabbering about, you little bastard!"

Despite Han Myung-oh's cursing, Kim Namwoon just smirked. He pointed at the ceiling of the subway car.

"Don't you see that?"

A hologram screen, lit by a goblin's magic, was playing overhead.

> [Help me! Please!]

[Aaaaargh!]

[Die! Just die already!]

Not just this train car or Taepung High School—

Live footage from across the country showing people dying.

Kim Namwoon continued:

"You still don't get it? The army's not coming to save us. And someone has to die."

"W-what are you saying…"

"We have to choose who dies."

Han Myung-oh floundered, unable to respond.

Goosebumps bristled along his raised forearm.

"Of course I know what you're thinking. Killing your own to survive? Only monsters would do that.

But listen—it's inevitable. Inevitable. If we don't kill, we die. Who's gonna blame us?

You'll die still clinging to your morals, old man?"

"T-that's…"

"Think about it. The world you knew just ended."

Han Myung-oh's shoulders trembled.

He wasn't alone.

Cracks were spreading in people's gazes.

The vague moral world was crumbling before our eyes.

And Kim Namwoon was the one driving the wedge in.

"And a new world needs new rules."

Kim Namwoon—the youth who adapted to Annihilation Law faster than anyone.

He turned and resumed pummeling the old woman.

This time, no one stopped him. Not Han Myung-oh, not the other men… not even Lee Hyun-sung.

The soldier's clenched fist trembled in midair with nowhere to go.

He must've made some sort of choice just now, too.

"Phew… this is exhausting.

How long are you all just gonna sit there watching? Want to die too?"

His aggressive prompting made everyone flinch.

Their crude, primal expressions were as easy to read as lines from a trashy pulp novel.

> If a murder doesn't occur within five minutes, everyone in this car dies.

Their eyes were changing.

> If that old lady doesn't die… then in five minutes, the ones to die will be…

The most primitive looks living beings can have.

"…Yeah… That bastard's right.

If we just sit here, we're all dead."

The first man lunged at Kim Namwoon and began kicking the curled-up old lady.

"Did you all forget? Someone has to die! Otherwise, we're screwed!"

"Ah, fuck it... I don't care anymore."

Two, then three.

People who had been standing there dumbfounded began to approach the elderly woman.

The men who had been cowardly circling around.

The female college student who had been filming with her phone.

The mother who had abandoned her child, and even Section Chief Han Myung-oh, who joined in late.

All of them ganged up on the elderly woman, assisting in her death.

"Die! Just die already!"

They were like prison guards working together to execute a death row inmate, each pulling the lever at the same time so that no one could be sure who delivered the killing blow. With passive kicks and half-hearted punches, they were slowly killing the old woman.

And I stood there, watching all of it.

Like a spectator observing a different world, I just watched, doing nothing.

That nameless grandmother was never meant to be saved in the first place.

Even in the original scenario, she was supposed to die.

So... standing by and letting her die was not a sin.

That was when Yoo Sang-ah suddenly stood up from her seat.

"She's going to die if this keeps up."

I instinctively grabbed her.

"I told you not to move carelessly."

The arm I held trembled. Yoo Sang-ah clenched her fist as if trying to hide the shaking and spoke.

"I know, I know but...!"

"If you go now, Yoo Sang-ah, you'll die."

Her pupils trembled with fear.

And yet...

I was struck by a sudden realization. Even if the genre of the story had changed, there were still people who shined brightly.

"Yoo Sang-ah. Sit down."

But she was not the one who could change this story.

Because Yoo Sang-ah was not the protagonist of this world.

"What? But—"

"Just this once, do as I say. After this, I won't interfere anymore."

After forcibly making her sit down, I took a deep breath and turned around. As I straightened my back, my exhale quivered slightly. I slowly loosened my ankles and rotated my wrists.

Honestly, it was still a little early to step in. This hadn't been my plan.

"...Reader?"

I didn't answer her and instead looked toward the crowd. The people beating the old woman without hesitation.

The reason I had stayed quiet all this time wasn't because I feared Kim Nam-woon or the others, nor because I fully agreed with their inhumanity.

I was simply waiting.

For the moment I needed to move.

And that moment—

KWAANG—!

—was now.

"W-What the hell!"

A deafening explosion rang out, tilting the entire train car.

Screams erupted. Smoke billowed from the car ahead and drifted into ours.

It had begun.

He had made his move.

I kicked off the floor with all my strength, rushing past the screaming, crouching people toward the direction of the old woman.

"W-What?! Aaargh!"

Kim Nam-woon, who collided with me head-on, let out a shriek and crashed to the floor. At a glance, it looked like I had heroically saved the old woman—but that wasn't my goal.

Where is it?

I quickly scanned the area.

People were still trying to lash out at the old woman even as they fell from the explosion. And in the middle of this hell, a child was crying.

It was the boy from earlier with the insect net.

"Excuse me for a moment."

I snatched the net from the child.

I reached into the net and felt the gross chitin of a grasshopper brush my fingers. I pulled one out and placed it in the boy's hand. Then I turned back to face the crowd.

"Everyone stop. Killing that woman won't save you."

Thanks to the momentary silence after the explosion, my voice rang out loud and clear. One by one, people turned to look at me.

"Let's say you kill her. Then what?"

The startled expressions were satisfying. Let's keep going.

"Once she's dead, the dokkaebi might acknowledge it as the 'first act of murder' and give you a bit of time. But after that?"

"Uh..."

"If what the dokkaebi said is true, then each of you still has to kill someone. So who will it be after the old woman? The person right next to you?"

Finally, people began to realize something, looking at each other with hesitation.

Their eyes filled with terror.

Everyone already knew it, deep down.

That the old woman was just the beginning.

The person who snapped the tension back into place was, of course, Kim Nam-woon.

"Haha, what's everyone so scared about? We just kill that guy next! Stop worrying about whose turn it is! It's fifty-fifty!"

Of course he'd say that. I waved a hand, cutting him off.

"There's no need for that kind of gamble. You can survive without becoming murderers."

"What?"

"Wh-What do you mean?"

The crowd buzzed. I saw Kim Nam-woon's expression twist.

"Did you forget? The scenario didn't say, 'Kill a person.'"

Most people still looked confused, but a few seemed to catch on.

[Kill at least one living creature.]

Exactly. The scenario had never specified "a human."

Kill a living creature.

That meant anything alive would do.

Someone quick-witted shouted toward the net in my hand.

"Insects! It's the insects!"

Grasshoppers and crickets hopping wildly in the net. A spark lit up in people's eyes. I nodded.

"Yes, insects."

I reached into the net and pulled out a grasshopper. One with a particularly plump belly.

"Give it to me! Hurry!"

"Just one! I just need one!"

They rushed toward me, hands outstretched. I slowly stepped back.

The same explosive madness that had driven them to kill the old woman now turned toward me.

A slight laugh slipped out.

Why? Why was my heart pounding so joyfully even in the midst of this razor-thin tension?

"Shall I give it to you?"

Like a trainer teasing a pack of beasts, I shook the net provocatively. A few impatient ones started to lunge toward me—

"Then here, take it!"

I crushed the grasshopper in my hand.

[You have achieved the 'First Kill' achievement!]

[Bonus reward: 100 coins acquired.]

At the same time, I hurled the net in my other hand as hard as I could—toward the opposite end of the car, away from where the people and the old woman were gathered.

"You bastard—!"

Freed from the net, the insects leapt desperately toward freedom through the air.