RTN 19

chapter 19

He had been standing there watching the whole time, but then suddenly stepped forward, reaching through the crowd to grab the wrist of the man who had me by the collar.

With one rough yank, he tore the man’s hand away. The sound of fabric ripping filled the air as my collar tore, and the man fell flat on his back with a thud.

“Take him over there.”

At Jung Jin-won’s command, a few people grabbed the man and dragged him off to a corner. I clutched my throat and coughed harshly. Jung Jin-won asked, in a tone that sounded almost kind,

“Are you all right?”

It was ridiculous—he’d just stood by and watched everything, only to pretend to care now. But I didn’t show it. I waved my hand weakly to signal I was fine, still trying to catch my breath.

“That S-rank should’ve been mine! I should’ve gotten it! I know this world better than anyone! This is my world!”

Even while being dragged away, the man shouted hysterically. One of the people holding him smacked the back of his head and barked,

“You think playing games in your mom’s basement is something to brag about, huh?”

“It was a career, damn it! I made money from it!”

“Do you have that money now? No? Then shut up!”

“This is my world! I prayed for this every day! Begged to be brought here! That’s why I came! Not her! Something’s wrong!”

The man broke down crying at the end of his rant, sobbing miserably as they pinned him to the corner. Watching him, Jung Jin-won muttered quietly,

“I knew it would turn out like this.”

“You know him?” I asked hoarsely.

Jung Jin-won sighed. “He’s pretty famous on YouTube. Known for being good at games—and having a terrible personality. Always in some kind of controversy.”

Then he turned to the man and said coldly,

“For causing a disturbance, you’ll go without dinner tonight.”

I froze, rubbing my sore neck. “That’s not necessary,” I said quickly. “We have enough food. I was promised we’d all be provided with meals and lodging.”

“You never know when those soldiers will change their minds. We should conserve while we can.”

“Like this?”

“We need discipline. You may not understand that, Ms. Seol A-yeon.”

The way he drew a line between us left me speechless. What on earth had happened while I was gone?

I hadn’t even been away that long. Taken out in the morning, back by evening. Not even a full day had passed, and yet the atmosphere had completely changed.

I spoke again.

“Even so, controlling people by withholding food is wrong. What if someone gets sick?”

“They’d deserve it,” he said flatly.

I stared at him, dumbfounded.

Why was someone like this put in charge?

Even stranger—no one objected.

Behind him, the others silently agreed through their cold indifference. Even the man huddled in the corner didn’t resist; he just looked defeated, as if he’d already given up.

Had they all already agreed to this?

I looked back at Jung Jin-won.

“I don’t know how you were elected or what rules you’ve made in my absence, but I can’t accept them. Don’t starve people.”

“These rules were decided by majority vote,” he said. “Your personal objection doesn’t matter.”

“The soldiers want you all to survive,” I said firmly. “They’re using you as leverage to control me. If you endanger someone’s life by starving them, the soldiers will intervene.”

His expression hardened. I continued.

“If you don’t want unnecessary conflict with the military, revise the rules.”

Jung Jin-won didn’t respond right away, seeming to think it over. Around us, people started murmuring.

“Come on, Ms. Seol, skipping one meal won’t kill anyone.”

“Let us handle it.”

“Yeah, you don’t need to be so soft-hearted.”

“Well, it’s because she’s so kind that she even bothered to come back for us.”

No, that wasn’t it.

I looked past them, toward the man crouched in the corner. I wasn’t defending him out of kindness.

That man had knowledge. He’d been the one who’d nervously raised his hand in front of the soldiers, insisting on his expertise. That meant he was confident in his understanding of the game. He could be useful later.

The military might need me, but that didn’t mean they liked me. Information was scarce and fragmented. Even the fact that there were only two S-ranks—I’d only just learned that here.

“Has anyone here read the Guidebook?” I asked.

No one answered.

I pushed through the crowd and approached the man. I could feel Jung Jin-won following behind me, but I didn’t turn around.

I stopped right in front of the man. The people guarding him tensed a little, but he no longer seemed like he would attack. He just sat there, wiping his tears with his sleeve.

“What exactly is the Guidebook?” I asked.

The man sniffled and replied in a low voice,

“Just what it sounds like. A guide. Like a game manual. You can play fine without it, but it’s more fun if you read it. It explains the lore, lists all the strategies and skills.”

“So if it’s not necessary, not many people would’ve read it, right?”

“Only hardcore players like me. The book was expensive, and it’s out of print now—you can’t even find one.”

“Do you know anything more about S-rank weapons?”

The man rubbed his face, still not looking at me.

“I’d need more info to say for sure. S-ranks can only be created by the Emperor, but they come in all shapes and forms, so it’s hard to explain with just one. But one thing’s certain—they’re insanely powerful. Probably too much for you to handle properly.”

“Can you help me?”

He didn’t answer.

“You can’t kill me anyway,” I said quietly.

He looked up. Our eyes met.

“Like you said, S-ranks are valuable. The soldiers will protect me because of that. They’re probably watching us on CCTV right now. If we’d fought any longer, who knows how they would’ve reacted.”

The color drained from his face. He must have acted on impulse, without thinking things through.

I looked away from him and turned back to Jung Jin-won.

“This man knows more about the game than any of us. If something goes wrong, we’ll all be in trouble. Please take that into consideration.”

“I’ll… consider it,” Jung Jin-won said.

But from the reluctant tone of his voice, I was sure of it.

I couldn’t trust this man.

I tightened my grip on the tablet in my hand. His gaze slid down to it. In a suddenly polite tone, he asked,

“What’s that?”

“It’s nothing.”

“Did the military give it to you?”

“They said it’s for future training. I don’t even know how to use it yet.”

“Really?”

He stared at me intently. I didn’t look away, though my palm was slick with sweat.

After a short silence, he spoke again.

“What about your status window?”

I swallowed hard. “It appeared again. This time it wasn’t just visible—it was tangible.”

His eyes widened. I told him what had happened earlier that day.

But I left out the part about meeting Baek I-hyeon privately, and how the status window had appeared again then. There was no need to share everything—especially not with him.

“Baek I-hyeon said people who can see the status window are called Harmonizers. Do you know what that means?”

“I’m not sure,” Jung Jin-won said, looking puzzled. The others around him seemed just as confused.

But the man in the corner furrowed his brow.

“Harmonizer?”

“You know what that is?” I asked.

“Of course,” he said with a bitter laugh. “Anyone who’s played the game even once would know. Everyone here has seen it a hundred times—they just didn’t know the name. You too.”

“I only ever logged in once…”

“The woman on the login screen—that’s the Harmonizer.”

Now that he mentioned it, I vaguely remembered the illustration of a beautiful woman on the game’s first screen.

“The Harmonizer isn’t a player,” the man added hoarsely.

“She’s an NPC.”