Chapter Text
You don't want to have your Pinnacle Rank existence erased, but you don't want their Intermediate Rank world to end?
...
Well, with such a request, the only option would be to ▪️▪️ ▪️▪️▪️ ▪️▪️▪️▪️.
You’ll be close enough to their universe that ▪️▪️▪️▪️, but also far enough that ▪️▪️▪️▪️. It's the best deal you’ll get from this galaxy.
Of course, it's impossible for you to ever return to your Pinnacle rank world. You'll probably never see the people from your former story world ever again.
...
I supose I can give you a couple gifts, to make up for the Pinnacle Rank status you've forfeited. You did sacrifice any chance to ever go to your home world again.
And... ▪️▪️ ▪️▪️▪️ ▪️▪️▪️▪️. ▪️▪️ ▪️▪️▪️ ▪️▪️▪️▪️.
I hope you'll have a good story to tell when you're done with the scenarios of this new world, Former Author Kim Hajin.
-
Kim Hajin woke up to the gentle rock of a moving train.
There wasn't any pain, or hellfire, or singing angels. He didn't know what he expected from the evanescnce of that awful purgatory, but it wasn't this. He slowly opened his eyes and realized he was leaning against the wall of a subway car, arms crossed as he stood among what looked like common commuters.
Except, they didn't have watches in their hands, but phones.
Am I back to my world? Did I still end up getting erased from existence? From all their memories?
Panic was slowly growing, but the moment he realized it was, he froze. From his own instinctive reaction, he could tell he really didn't want to go back to his original world. He’d even rather have everyone forget him, if it meant he didn't have to go back to being nobody and pretending like eveything was fine. He couldn't go back to being a normal person anymore. It wasn't the thought of having to be a writer, or not being lauded as an idol by civilians. It wasn't the lack of cash, or parkour skills, or inability to craft furniture in hours.
It was the fact that Hajin killed people for a living. He lived on the front lines and thrived on the edge of life and earth. His job was filled with dungeons and monsters and fighting and excitement.
How could he ever go back to being a normal civilian who had never drawn human blood?
Out of habit - an old, clumsy habit that only went smoothly due to his reflexes - he pulled his phone out of his pocket and stared into the screen. It was dark, the dead battery symbol flashing three times, before the screen went black.
He couldn't help a soft laugh. Ten years without his phone, and he can't even use it once he's back.
He was kind of glad he couldn't, either way. In the reflection of the dark glass, he could make out an all black suit, shirt, and tie that looked oddly similar to one he actually owned for use as Black Lotus, even if he rarely did. He had a black handkerchief in his blazer pocket, and shiny black oxfords with a deceptively strong traction on the soles.
Would he call his old friends? His parents? As much as hated to say it, he didn't know them anymore, and they didn't know him.
Absentmindedly, he reached to pull his weapon out of his inventory so he could clean it while he thought about things -
- And then awkwardly cut off the motion by putting his hand back into his pocket instead, getting an odd look from the passengers standing next to him. Hajin held in an aggravated sigh and pretend to be reading something on his phone.
They really, really didn't know him.
He had grown into a completely new person meant for a different world. His straight posture, his silent footsteps, the way his hands lingered where his gun holster should be. He had come back from war on a different planet. Even though he had his old face, he would be unrecognizable to the people who used to know him best.
Wait.
Hajin’s eyes widened in the black screen.
Reflected back at him was his face. His usual face, not a question mark, or the old one from his homeworld. It was the face of Fenrir, and Black Lotus, and of the Kim Hajin that he has become over the last decade. He could see the difference in his jawline from so much physical activity, and the slight scars on his face from countless battles that healing abilities could only do so much for.
He pulled one of his fitted glove off and was met with soft, but still present, callouses. While he had practically been using a gun daily for a decade, he also had the skin regeneration skill that kept his hands almost as soft as a civilians. Almost, being the key word. As a skilled marksman, he could recognize the markings that came from handling his guns and bows.
If he was supposed to be returned to his homeworld as if he hadn't left it, why was he in his old body?
As the subway car shook him, he could hear a familiar clink against the face of his mechanical watch. A heavy, metallic click that made no sense to hear in this world. The hand in his pocket stiffened. While he didn't have his inventory, but he very much had his guns holstered. He nearly checked them for any modifications before remembering he was in public, in a crowded train car, and in a Korea that didn't usually have people walking around with custom, mercenary grade pistols.
Instead, he subtly checks his back pocket for any other clues, and comes across what feels like a leather wallet. Pulling it out, the odd feeling he had from before intensifies when he finds IDs that match his most up to date one, if it was made in his homeworld. Along with that is a second ID, that freaks him out more.
It was a government ID identifying him with some kind of military clearance as a contractor. It was as if someone made a hero's ID, but for the Korean government in this boring old world.
Nothing made sense. He was in his usual body, with his usual ish items, but tweaked just enough to pass by for his homeworld.
When I walked into the fog, wanting nothing more but to choose a third option…is this what happens?
He wasn't sure this was his homeworld anymore, no matter the similarities. They used phones, had old fashion trends, and tech was far less advanced. Yet, the body he was in didn't make sense for Kim Hajin, novelist. In the glimpses he could catch between the heads of the crowd, the city rushing by looked like a normal one for his homeworld.
It was nothing like what the secondary author had described. Or, at least, what Hajin had assumed the secondary author meant. He hoped dearly that he might've misinterpreted the being’s words, or that the universe took pity on him.
The subway screeched to an abrupt stop, and the entire cabin grew dark.
“T̵e̸s̵t̷i̴n̶g̸,̴ ̴t̸e̵s̷t̸i̴n̸g̵,̴ ̵i̷s̵ ̶t̷h̶i̴s̶ ̶t̵h̸i̸n̴g̵ ̷o̴n̸?̶"̸
Then, a flying monster capable of speech appeared, and Hajin suddenly didn't have time to think anymore.
-
Hajin would like to excuse his reactions to trans dimensional jet lag.
He's dropped into another world, having his nth existential crisis in the past week, trying to figure out what the hell he ended up choosing, with no clue what the hell was going on -
And then, there's suddenly a sentient, talking monster floating in the air.
One of Orden's creations? Was his first thought as he froze in fear and abrupt, frenzied analysis of how the fluffy creature could kill him in how many different ways. Except, no, that's my world - my old world. This normal world shouldn't have anything like that.
“Okay, everyone, why don't you calm down, take a seat, and listen? I have some veeery important information you all should know!”
Yet, evidently, it did.
“People have places to be!” A man in the crowd shouted. “I have an audition to get to, you know!?”
The floating - thing, spoke with a malicious kind of glee Hajin recognized from meeting more than his fair share of sadists. Often djinn in Pandemonium, but just as often human buisnessmen in the halls of government buildings. The monster grinned wider than its small body should have been able to, mouth filled with too many sharp teeth.
“Aww, do you? Man, I should've done more research. They told me I would get the most customers if we started the paywall at 7 pm.”
Hajin wondered if this was a sudden dungeon, but not one person here pulled out a weapon in response. Even civilians in his world had something on them in case of a dungeon break, so it was odd to see no one with anything in their hands. He forced himself to grip his dead phone and follow the crowd, much as he disliked it. He was almost certain people carried around self defense items at public spaces in this normal world.
That had been common, hadn't it been? Why is there not even an emergency knife in sight?
“What? Customers? The hell are you talking about!” The man argued back against the monster’s sarcastic sympathy.
Others started shouting about their own appointments and complaints, arguing about how dare such a ridiculous movie stunt be pulled during rush hour.
Hajin wasn't convinced. To stop an entire subway car at rush hour was exactly the issue - it was too far for a movie team to pull. It was too far for anyone but the government. The cabin wasn't fully convinced either. Under their never ending self importance and bold demands, they were all nervous. They didn't understand what was happening, or why there was a monster right as the public train was halted, and their only outlet was aggression.
Hajin didn't understand what was happening either, but a spike of dread sat heavy in his stomach. A monster suddenly appearing in public would make sense last week, but was utterly impossible here. That is, it would be impossible…
“It sure is noisy in here, huh?” The shouting and angry complaints didn't stop.
Unless this is my world's first dungeon break.
“I…told you… to be quiet!” The monster bellowed with furious red eyes.
And the first speaker, the loudest man of the crowd, suddenly didn't have a head.
“We're not filming a movie.”
More bodies started to topple over. The heads were exploding, popping like squished grapes.
“This isn't a dream.”
Hajin pressed himself against the wall, but the crowd crush of civilians running from the monster kept banging against his exposed side, jostling him from the corner.
“It's not a novel!”
One tripped and exploded right at his feet, covering his shoes with viscera and brain matter. Hajin didn't see any way to escape for all of those who had spoken up, and - God, had a lot of them spoken. The air reeked of copper and death in an instant.
“This isn't the reality you used to know! Do you understand!?”
With the monster’s last shout, the wave of blood finally stopped. Practically the entire right side of the cabin was covered in corpses, and even more than that was splattered with gore. It was a geuine blood bath, with puddles of red pooling under his oxfords.
Hajin narrowed his eyes at the creature, flicking out his right hand to shake off some warm blood. He couldn't help his irritation at getting so much mess on what was a pretty decent suit, and so many presumably innocent civilians dying.
Even during my hits against large groups, I'm much neater than to create such a scene.
But the point of it all was the scene. It was a monster showing off its intangible, invisible, and seemingly unstoppable powers. It was as terrifying as one of Orden's intelligent monsters - maybe even more so.
“All of you have had a very cushy life until now, haven't you!”
This was a showcase.
“You were able to eat, sleep, and fuck all you like, without paying the costs! Ha!”
This was a display.
“You've all been living privileged lives, but that's all over now!”
This would keep them in line, and keep them listening to whatever the hell this monster had to say.
“Nothing is free in life, isn't that right?”
Everyone still alive, which was disgustingly little now, we're pressing to the far right side of the cabin. All those in the center had practically forced themselves over during the massacre, and Hajin now found himself one of the few at the center frontlines.
“Is it money you want?” A older man in a pinstriped suit asked boldly, considering talking back was what had just gotten everyone killed.
In one of the most ridiculous ways Hajin had ever seen a person react to a traumatic event, the man tried bribing his way out.
“Ah, money, that's good. It represents transactions between the human race.”
The man's face was stupidly hopeful all the way up until the money in his hands burst into flames with a snap of the monster's fingers.
“But that's only valid within the confines of your space-time. That paper means nothing in the macroscopic universe.” The briefly calm voice of the monster went back to black eyed fury for an instant. “Pull a stunt like that again, and I’ll kill you.”
Space time. Macroscopic universe.
Hajin stared at the being with wide eyes.
This being…wasn't a normal monster. To be aware of the multiverse, and the fact that different worlds have different rankings and power levels over others…
Fuck. This isn't safe for me either.
The monster waved its hand flippantly, shaking his head and making some motions that didn't seem to have any visible effect. “Your debt is piling up fast, so there's no time for me to chat. It'll be easier if you earn the money yourselves.”
With flashes of red light and blue shimmer, a woman’s voice rung out like the PA system at a mall.
“Channel #BI-7623 is now open. The constellations are entering the room.”
In a wave of shining light, blue screens started to appear in front of all those still alive in the car.
The screen looked like a notification you got on email, but with a very strange message. The main scenario is now beginning.
The window changed, and the words made Hajin internally curse.
Main Scenario #1
[Prove your value.]
Kill one or more living organisms.
Category: Main
Difficulty: F
Time Limit: 30 minutes
Rewards: 300 coins
Penalty for failure: Death