“In the early hours of this morning, an unbelievable event unfolded at Yongdusan Bell Tower in Jongno-gu during the annual bell-ringing ceremony. Over ten thousand people in attendance collectively lost consciousness. Let’s go to the video to see exactly what happened.”
The footage that followed was astonishing. A winged woman, wreathed in brilliant light, had materialized in the sky.
“People were stunned by the appearance of a woman who looked like an Cheon-sa,” the news anchor continued. “She appeared to be speaking, but no sound was recorded. Shortly thereafter, a young man approached and asked the Cheon-sa a question. In response, his head exploded like a firework.”
A heavily pixelated, yet undeniably gruesome, scene of the man’s death played on screen. The brutality was palpable.
“The crowd of tens of thousands panicked. The Cheon-sa murmured something, as if offering an explanation, and then people began to lose consciousness. An estimated ten thousand people simply fell asleep where they stood.”
The people in the video collapsed as one, falling like puppets with their strings cut.
The footage then cut to the aftermath, where police officers were seen investigating among the dazed and waking survivors.
“According to witnesses, the Cheon-sa claimed to have taken everyone aged fifteen to twenty-nine to another dimension. While a bizarre claim, the sheer number of witnesses and the clear video evidence of the Cheon-sa’s appearance make it difficult to dismiss.”
“This phenomenon was not isolated, occurring simultaneously across the nation, specifically targeting those between fifteen and twenty-nine. Reports of Cheon-sa sightings have flooded in from every region, followed by large numbers of people falling into a trance-like state. At present, more than 128 countries, including Japan, China, Russia, and the United States, have confirmed similar incidents.”
One-point-eight billion people had been taken to another world. Not their bodies, but their souls.
News portals were flooded with one shocking headline after another.
Online, the public reaction was split.
“What’s going on? Are all the journalists drunk?”
“Why is every news site posting this same unbelievable story?”
“It’s not even April Fool’s Day.”
“1.8 billion souls kidnapped? This is fake news on a global scale.”
“Haha, nice conspiracy, guys.”
“That video has to be fake.”
Many couldn’t believe the absurd reports, dismissing them as a hoax. But just as many, seeing the news everywhere, were beginning to believe.
“Are the reporters all children?” one person scoffed. “Do they have nothing better to do than publish fake news on New Year’s Day?”
“It’s on every website, though,” another chimed in.
“I wouldn’t trust these outlets if they told me a war had broken out,” someone else added, though their nervous laughter was almost palpable in the text.
Despite the skepticism, the story’s credibility grew with each passing moment. It was on every broadcast, every radio station, every corner of the internet. It was becoming impossible to deny that something real and terrifying was unfolding.
“I thought it was a prank, but it’s actually real,” one comment read.
“What the hell is happening?” asked another.
“I read a detailed article on another site. Apparently, it’s some kind of survival game that lasts for twenty rounds.”
“So does that mean I’m going to be taken by an Cheon-sa too?” a frightened voice piped up.
“Don’t worry if you’re not between fifteen and twenty-nine,” another replied.
“I’m still worried. There are 1.8 billion people who aren’t waking up…”
“My friend’s older brother is one of them. He’s still breathing, but he won’t wake up.”
“I’m a forty-nine-year-old father,” another pleaded. “My son… he’s only in middle school, and he won’t wake up no matter what I do. Please, someone, tell me what to do.”
“My little brother is just sleeping. He won’t wake up. What should I do?”
“What are we supposed to do? Is the world ending?” someone quipped with cynical despair.
Park Jin-ho scrolled through the comments on his phone, a heavy sigh escaping his lips.
It’s finally started, he thought.
The internet was already buzzing with talk of the survival game. It was a stark reminder that he was, indeed, back on Earth.
But this is just the beginning, he reminded himself, his eyes falling on another article.
“At approximately 5:20 AM, roughly half of those who had fallen into comas began to wake up… The other half stopped breathing and died. This has resulted in an estimated 900,000 deaths in Busan alone, and 4.5 million across the country… A historic disaster in which 11% of the population died… The worldwide death toll from the ‘coma shock’ is estimated to be around nine hundred million people, causing unprecedented chaos across the globe.”
The initial wave of death had passed, but a far greater problem was looming.
“[A survivor stated that they created a character, as if in a game, and completed quests.]”
“[They fought goblin monsters on a plains map, armed only with their bodies.]”
“[Breaking news! Survivors, calling themselves ‘players,’ are able to summon weapons and armor out of thin air!]”
The real problem, Park Jin-ho knew, was that the players’ new abilities had followed them back into reality.
He had killed the Cheon-sa in his area, so the players there hadn’t heard the system’s explanation, but it wouldn’t take them long to figure it out.
The system’s abilities were rooted in the soul, so they could be used regardless of which body that soul inhabited.
Of course, he had only learned that by torturing an Cheon-sa in a previous regression.
For now, their stats were low, so the impact wouldn’t be too great. But later, as they leveled up and grew stronger, players would become truly transcendent beings.
When that happened, those without a shred of conscience would begin to wield their power like gods, unbound by law or morality.
They would become weapons that no military, no modern technology, could ever hope to control.
At that point, no one would be able to focus solely on the quests. The chaos of the real world would become just as dangerous.
This world and that other realm; both would be consumed by chaos within months.
He couldn’t just stand by and watch. If he did, Earth would be destroyed long before they reached the twentieth round.
There was only one solution. The players had to be controlled with overwhelming force. A beast only bows to a stronger predator.
Just as he had done before, Park Jin-ho would have to control them through sheer power.
Only then could he quell the chaos and carve a path to the final boss.
Of course, this time his strategy had to be different.
He had to take four others with him to the final round. Four, not including himself.
A priest and a buffer would be ideal. If the boss room required five people, it had to be an absolute monster.
He already had candidates in mind, and a plan to persuade them, but…
It’s not time to act yet. There are more important things to do first.
As soon as the first round had ended, Park Jin-ho had left the area around the bell-ringing ceremony.
The place he was heading was his home.
It was a small unit in a multi-family building in Seodaemun-gu, Busan.
Ring-ring-ring… beep-beep!
The first thing that greeted him inside was the familiar sight of an empty cup ramen container sitting on the kitchen sink.
Looks like it was cup ramen for dinner again.
It was a scene he knew well, one that had greeted him upon his return in every single one of his previous regressions.