Two days had passed since the downfall of the Chain-Bound Abomination.
In that short time, the world outside had rapidly devolved into a waking nightmare. As the realization settled in that system points were the only currency that mattered—the literal dividing line between starvation and survival—the thin veneer of human civilization fractured entirely. The screams echoing from the skyscrapers above weren't just from monster attacks anymore; they were from humans hunting humans, desperate to harvest whatever meager points their fellow citizens possessed.
To avoid the chaos, the three of us had taken to the subterranean darkness, using the complex grid of the city's subway tunnels to travel.
"Keep your footsteps light," I whispered, my voice barely carrying over the damp echo of the concrete tunnel.
Behind me, Minsoo moved with the fluid grace of someone whose Agility was steadily climbing, her eyes scanning our rear flank. Behind her came Yoon Sul. He was no longer the sobbing mess face-planted in the dirt; he was exhausted, his expensive athletic gear ruined, but there was a sharp, calculating focus in his eyes now. My warning to him on the first night had dug deep—he was finally treating this world with the grim seriousness of a survival match, constantly analyzing the data fields his Gamer class provided.
Suddenly, my right eyelid throbbed with a cold, piercing heat.
The Dragon's Eyes flared a faint, predatory crimson in the darkness. My vision instantly shifted, peeling back the gloom of the tunnel to reveal the intricate, glowing currents of the local environment. But I wasn't looking at monster mana path movements this time.
A hundred meters ahead, where the subway tracks curved toward an abandoned maintenance station, the faint, overlapping biometric data windows of dozens of entities flickered into my sight.
"Stop," I raised a hand, halting the party instantly.
"Is it a horde, Oppa?" Minsoo asked, her hand instantly dropping to the hilt of her crowbar.
"No," I murmured, focusing my vision. The data windows were small, fragmented, and universally low-level. "Humans. A lot of them."
Yoon Sul stepped forward, blinking as he tried to peer through his own interface. "My mini-map is registering a massive cluster of neutral green dots ahead. It looks like... a designated safe zone? Or a player encampment."
"Let's see what we're dealing with," I said, shifting my hand closer to the grip of my D-Rank Reinforced Steel Infantry Blade
We advanced cautiously, slipping through the shadows until the narrow maintenance tracks opened up into a massive, vaulted underground junction. The sight before us was staggering. The entire station had been converted into a makeshift fortress. Overturned train cars blocked the main entrance tunnels, forming thick, reinforced barricades topped with jagged scrap metal.
Inside the perimeter, the faint glow of battery-powered lanterns and small, controlled fires illuminated a bustling colony.
There were at least eighty people here. Some were huddled in groups under tattered blankets, their faces gaunt with hunger, while a select few—armed with makeshift spears, metal pipes, and standard-issue police riot gear—patrolled the tops of the train cars. A large, handwritten sign hung from the central pillar, illuminated by a torch: [SECTOR 4-B METRO SHELTER - REGISTRATION REQUIRED].
"A shelter," Minsoo whispered, her eyes softening slightly at the sight of civilian survival. "They actually managed to build a community down here."
Don't lower your guard," I countered coldly, my Dragon's Eyes scanning the armed guards on the perimeter.
Through my vision, I could see the subtle tells of human desperation. Their mana paths were erratic, fueled by adrenaline and fear. They had survival infrastructure, yes, but a gathering of this size on day five of the tutorial was a massive, glowing target for both high-level monsters and desperate player factions.
tracks and into the dim perimeter light, the sharp click of a shotgun being racked echoed from the top of a nearby train car.
"Halt!" a gruff voice barked from the shadows above. Three armed guards immediately pivoted, their makeshift weapons aimed directly at our chests. "Identify yourselves! Are you survivors or raiders?"
State your business!" the guard with the shotgun barked again, his hands trembling slightly on the trigger. "Where the hell did you guys come from? The surface tunnels are crawled with monsters. Why are you down here?"
The other two guards didn't lower their makeshift spears, their knuckles white. The atmosphere was thick with paranoia. In a world where your neighbor might slit your throat just to harvest a few system points, three heavily armed strangers walking calmly out of the dark was a code-red threat.
Minsoo shifted her stance, ready to draw her weapon, while Yoon Sul stepped back, frantically checking the combat data of the guards through his Gamer interface.
Before the tension could snap into violence, a calm, clear voice echoed from behind the barricade.
"Lower your weapons, gentlemen. There's no need to treat our new guests like animals."
The guards hesitated, then slowly lowered their barrels as a man stepped through the gap between two overturned train cars. He had a remarkably average build, dressed in a clean, dark jacket, with neat black hair framing a face that looked to be in his mid-twenties.
What stood out most about him was his smile. It was incredibly warm, gentle, and welcoming—the kind of smile that instantly made people drop their guard.
"Welcome to the Metro Shelter," the man said, his voice smooth and soothing as he approached us. "I'm Woojin. I handle the intake for survivors here. I apologize for the rough welcome, but as you know, the world outside isn't very kind these days. Are you all unhurt?"
He looked perfectly harmless. A good Samaritan trying to keep people alive in the dark.
But the moment my Dragon's Eyes locked onto him, a drop of cold sweat rolled down my neck. The world behind my eyelids fractured into shifting data grids, and a dark, suffocating aura of hidden mana paths came into sharp focus around him.
Woojin...
The name echoed in my mind like a death knell. My fingers instinctively tightened around the hilt of my D-Rank blade. I knew this man. I knew him very well from my past life.
Right now, he was acting like a benevolent savior, but in a few months, the entire Korean peninsula would know him by a terrifying moniker: The Smiling Devil.
He was one of the most prolific, sadistic murderers of the early system era. His legendary starting skill allowed him to subtly manipulate the emotions and minds of others, bending their wills until they blindly followed his commands. He didn't build shelters out of the goodness of his heart. He built them to cultivate a loyal, brainwashed flock—and to quietly harvest the system points of anyone who dared to question his authority. In the future, he would orchestrate mass slaughters, sacrificing thousands of civilians to fuel his own growth.
To think that the Smiling Devil was operating right here, in Sector 4-B, during the very first week of the tutorial.
Woojin's gentle eyes scanned the three of us, his gaze lingering on my sheathed infantry blade and the quiet confidence in my posture. His pleasant smile widened just a fraction, a flicker of intense, predatory curiosity flashing across his eyes.
"You three look remarkably well-equipped for survivors," Woojin noted softly, taking another step forward. "Tell me... what brings a powerful group like yours to our humble little sanctuary?"