🔊 TTS Settings
Chapter 01
I was discharged. Just yesterday.
The unit I served in is classified. A counterintelligence unit so secretive that even within the Intelligence Command, its official existence was not acknowledged.
We worked in connection with the National Intelligence Service, under the cover name “Seogil Trading Company.”
There, I was simply called “Manager.”
I was a manager when I joined, and I was a manager when I left.
Even after 15 years of service.
Anyway, having served for 15 years, it still doesn’t feel real that I’m discharged.
Even my body rhythm doesn’t seem to accept it—my eyes snapped open at 6 a.m. sharp.
“Feels like I slept well, but it’s only 6?”
It felt like a windfall.
With that feeling, I decided to face the day.
My daily routine began with physical training. Even when stationed overseas, I never skipped it.
“Hello, good morning!”
After finishing my workout and breakfast and returning to the villa, a woman heading to work greeted me.
Her name was Jung So-mi. Twenty-eight years old. Exactly twelve years younger than me.
She lived next door. An office worker.
She was attractive, sociable, energetic, and cheerful.
But it’s all an act.
She was an intelligence agent. A surveillance officer sent by the NIS to watch me.
She could fool ghosts, but not my eyes.
Observation and analysis were second nature to me—an occupational disease—and I had never been wrong.
Though I knew her true identity, I didn’t show it. After a week of watching, she didn’t seem intent on harming me.
“Yes, good morning.”
“You went exercising again, right?”
“Yes, it’s a habit.”
“I should work out too. Teach me sometime.”
“Sure. Call me when you want. Oh, and the road’s slippery—be careful.”
After some light small talk, I returned home. It was exactly 8:00 a.m.
I stood at my door, checking the time on my phone.
7:59 changed to 8:00.
“Good.”
Keeping strict time was a long-ingrained habit. In missions, being even one minute off meant failure.
Beep–beep–beep–beep.
I punched in the door lock code and grabbed the handle—something felt off.
An unusual sense from beyond the door.
Narrowing my eyes, I peered through the crack.
Crackle–
I silently pushed the door open. The living room TV was blaring static.
I hadn’t turned it on.
Can it turn on by itself?
Then the noise vanished, and the screen changed.
On-screen was a rabbit.
A white rabbit in a black suit and bowtie, standing on a podium decorated with fireworks.
So Hussein finally decided to terrorize South Korea?
Or maybe the North Korean army stormed broadcasting stations during a dawn invasion?
I chuckled at my own absurd joke, but naturally assumed it was just a man in a rabbit mask.
At 8:10, the rabbit spoke.
[I am Morpheus, the spokesperson of Lord Fidomena.]
So it introduced itself as Morpheus. Clearly nothing to do with Hussein or North Korea.
“A Christmas special, maybe?”
It was Christmas Eve.
A special broadcast, a gift for citizens—that would make sense.
“Pretty original.”
But the next words were far beyond my expectations.
[The Creator of Earth, Artae, has defaulted on debts from reckless expansion. Thus, effective immediately, the collateralized planet ‘Earth’ has passed into the ownership of the great otherworldly god, Fidomena.]
Artae. Fidomena. God. Earth. Collateral…
The grammar was perfect, but the meaning incomprehensible.
“What the hell?”
As if answering my mutter, Morpheus replied lightly:
[Hard to understand, isn’t it? But you’ll see soon enough. From now on, you humans will repay your Creator’s debt on his behalf.]
Snap.
Morpheus flicked his fingers, and the screen changed.
Space. Earth glowing blue in the center, surrounded by countless galaxies.
The galaxies turned into cameras, zooming in on Earth.
White letters appeared:
[“Apocalypse Survival Story – Season 4!”]
Morpheus continued:
[This show, “Apocalypse Survival Story (Season 4),” is a survival epic of Earthlings, planned by Lord Fidomena, and broadcast across all dimensions.]
[You humans will flee, fight, and struggle to survive against interdimensional monsters.]
The scene cut to humans running from monsters.
A game trailer?
I wasn’t much of a gamer, but could gaming ads really hijack TVs like this now?
I tried to rationalize it, but the situation was beyond reason.
Even changing channels only showed the same white rabbit.
[By now, you must guess how repayment works. That’s right—Earthlings will repay the debt by selling the spectacle of their survival.]
[But to help you endure longer and repay more, Lord Fidomena bestows a special gift.]
Immediately, a translucent window appeared before my eyes.
[You have been chosen as a Player of “Apocalypse Survival Story.”]
The unreal message forced me to accept the rabbit’s claims, and the existence of gods, as fact.
Shoving down disbelief, I tried to call my direct superior, Colonel Choi of the Intelligence Command.
The line rang, but he didn’t answer.
If he wasn’t answering, that meant the military was already treating this as real.
Meanwhile, Morpheus rambled about how merciful Fidomena was for even giving gifts to debtors. Then he finished solemnly:
[Now then, we wish humanity the best of luck.]
The broadcast ended.
–Breaking News.
Normal programming resumed, the anchor reporting:
–An unknown broadcast is being simultaneously transmitted worldwide. Governments and militaries are convening to verify its authenticity…
The anchor suddenly paused, nodded at someone off-camera, and a photo appeared top-right.
A glowing arch-shaped structure.
–We’ve just received reports of strange structures appearing across cities.
Viewers were urged to send tips via phone, email, and open chat.
Then another message appeared on my window:
[We will now begin a brief Player Tutorial.]
[First, open your Character Window. Think the activation word “Character Window.”]
The surreal instruction hammered reality home.
Earth was now a stage for an apocalypse show. Humanity’s survival would be broadcast for cosmic viewers, repaying Artae’s debt.
In short, we humans were cosigners for our Creator.
Without consent. No appeal.
This was force majeure.
First, finish the tutorial.
Rule one of information warfare: Know thyself, know thy enemy.
[Player: Han Se-hyun]
-
Class: Loan Shark
-
Level: 1 (0%)
-
Unique Trait: Moneylending
-
Skills: Small Loan (Low Interest), Collateral, Debtor Ledger, Illegal Collection (Beginner)
-
Stats: Strength 11 / Agility 10 / Endurance 12 / Magic 5
A [Character] window floated before me.
Strange, but I’d seen stranger things in my line of work.
[Your class is “Loan Shark.” This is a new class introduced this season.]
The tutorial elaborated:
[Loan Sharks do not gain stat points or skills when leveling up. Instead, they seize them as collateral from debtors. Much like real-world loan sharks, they grow stronger by accumulating debt.]
I understood the gist. I wasn’t a gamer, but the words—level, stats, skills—reminded me of childhood dot games with friends.
[Next, check your Skills by thinking their names.]
I did so in order.
[Small Loan]
-
Class Exclusive: Loan Shark
-
Rank: Beginner
-
Terms:
-
Can lend up to 100,000 Coins at ≤10% interest. (No time limit.)
-
Interest can be simple or compound.
-
5-day overdue cancels contract; collateral is seized.
-
Overdue does not reset.
-
-
Effect: Higher rank increases loan limit and interest rate.
[Illegal Collection]
-
Class Exclusive: Loan Shark
-
Rank: Beginner
-
Effect: Boosts personal stats by 20% for 1 min to forcibly collect debts.
-
Higher rank increases duration and boost.
[Debtor Ledger]
-
Effect: View debtor list, their stats, and skills.
[Collateral]
-
Effect: Seize debtor’s stats or skills as collateral.
-
Stat collateral ratio: 1,000 Coins = 1 Stat (value fluctuates).
-
Skill collateral ratio: 10,000 Coins = 1 Skill (value fluctuates).
“Coins” stood out—it seemed to be this system’s currency. I’d have to learn how to earn them.
With that, the tutorial ended.
[Tutorial Completed.]
At the same time, a sharp scream pierced the air outside.
Kyaaaah—!
I rushed to the balcony and looked down.
The sight shattered all lingering doubts.
Green-skinned goblin-like creatures wielding axes and swords chased civilians.
Wolves tore at women and children.
A three-story-tall cyclops ripped out a streetlamp and swung it wildly.
So it’s not a Christmas special. Not a game promo. Not a prank show.
I pulled back, steadying my hammering heart.
I’d faced worse in Ramadi, Iraq, when IS hunted us.
In my study, I tugged a book from the shelf—second row, third column.
The bookshelf clicked and slid, revealing a hidden cache.
Inside: firearms, blades, holsters, body armor, neatly arranged.
Smuggled from Russia, prepared for the day enemies came after me.
I donned the body armor, strapped on the shoulder holster covering my ribs, loaded a Glock 17 and titanium knife, fixed spare mags to my belt, and pulled out my combat boots.
No military fatigues. Even if I had them, I wouldn’t wear them—better not to advertise being ex-military.
Fully armed, I returned to the balcony.
Wolves the size of calves prowled the streets.
The villa opposite was already a wreck, overrun by goblins.
My own building echoed with screams—monsters must have forced their way in.
Do they sense humans hiding inside?
Either their noses were that sharp, or they had another way of detecting prey.
No way I could just hole up until the military arrived.
Conclusion: escape before being surrounded.
I packed swiftly.
A hiking backpack with spare clothes, water, rations, a blanket, and sleeping bag.
As I laced my boots by the door—
Bang! Bang!
Something pounded violently.
Already the monsters?
I drew my Glock, pressing my ear to the door.
After three seconds, faint breaths and a desperate voice:
“H-help me!”
It was Jung So-mi, the woman from this morning.
But I hesitated.
Because outside, I heard more than just her.
