The streets were quieter now. Quieter didn't mean safer.
The air carried a thick tension, the kind that pressed down on you even when nothing moved. Hyunwoo, Ji-ah, and the kid stuck to the shadows, avoiding open roads. Every sound made them flinch—a can rolling, a bird flapping out of a shattered storefront window, the distant crunch of something stepping on glass.
"There," Ji-ah said, pointing to a narrow concrete building wedged between two collapsed businesses. It had no signage, just a partially open metal door and windows covered in old newspapers. "Looks like it might still have walls and a roof."
Hyunwoo nodded slowly.
He recognized it immediately.
This building was described in The Final Apocalypse Chronicles. An old arcade-turned-squat—dark, musty, fortified with furniture and crates. In the novel, it was mentioned briefly as a temporary hideout for a small gang that survived the first scenario by taking from others.
They called themselves the Glass Fangs.
And Hyunwoo knew what happened next. If the story remained the same...
The moment they stepped inside, he braced for it.
A flicker of movement.
The glint of something metallic.
"Not another step," a voice drawled from the shadows.
Ji-ah immediately stepped in front of the kid, blade drawn.
Five figures emerged from the dark—each one armed with something jagged or brutal. Pipes. Machetes. A baseball bat with nails. Their clothes were layered and dirty, but their eyes were sharp. Hyunwoo recognized their leader. Tall, angular face. Scar running down his cheek.
It was Ryeok, the second-in-command of the Glass Fangs.
"Well, well," Ryeok said, cracking his neck. "You look a little too clean to be from around here. Looking for a place to crash?"
Hyunwoo didn't answer.
He could already feel Ji-ah's tension beside him. She didn't know these people. Didn't know what Hyunwoo knew. And he couldn't say it—how could he tell her that he'd read about these people in a book?
"This building's ours now," Ryeok said. "If you're thinking about staying, you'd better have something to offer."
Ji-ah narrowed her eyes. "Or what?"
A slow, nasty grin.
"Or we take what we want."
Hyunwoo's hand twitched toward the rusted dagger at his side. Han Jinho was clutching the pipe so tightly his knuckles were white.
Hyunwoo glanced at the shadows.
He remembered how the original main character of the novel barely survived this encounter.
But that wasn't the point anymore.
This wasn't a story about someone else.
This was his story now.
And he wasn't going to let it play out the same way.
Hyunwoo exhaled slowly, his fingers brushing the handle of his dagger—but instead of drawing it, he focused.
The air around Ryeok shimmered. The outlines of the man pulsed, flickering like candlelight in the dark.
And then—
[ Page Glimpse – Lv. 1: Activated ]
📖 Character Profile: Ryeok
Name: Ryeok Jang-hoon
Role: Sub-Leader of the Glass Fangs
Alignment: Self-Preservationist / Opportunist
Mental State: Predatory, Watchful
Narrative Tag: "He who survives by bleeding others dry."
📌 Once a third-rate gangster, now a scavenger who adapts faster than others. He trusts strength over words and believes the world rewards cruelty. Afraid of dying, but more afraid of looking weak.
Hyunwoo's stomach churned. Ryeok wasn't just a thug. He was dangerous because he'd already decided that morality was dead. This man didn't see them as people. He saw prey walking into his den.
Hyunwoo canceled the view.
Ji-ah hadn't moved. Her stance was tense, protective, ready to fight.
Han Jinho gripped the metal pipe tightly, hiding behind Ji-ah's legs.
Ryeok stepped closer, tapping the barbed bat against his palm. "No answer, huh? That means no deal. That means we do this the hard way."
"Wait," Hyunwoo said quietly.
Ji-ah gave him a sharp look.
Hyunwoo didn't blink.
Ryeok's bat hovered just inches from Hyunwoo's face, tension crackling in the narrow air between them. His expression wasn't rage—not yet. Just suspicion. Calculation.
Ji-ah shifted behind Hyunwoo, silent, coiled like a spring. Han Jinho huddled behind her, eyes wide, small hands still gripping the metal pipe.
But Hyunwoo didn't flinch. He kept his voice calm, steady.
"I know where the next Safe Zone is."
That got Ryeok's attention.
The man didn't lower the bat, but the atmosphere shifted instantly. His gang—lean, sharp-eyed figures with scavenged weapons—began whispering among themselves.
"What are you talking about?" Ryeok asked, his tone skeptical, but tinged with curiosity.
Hyunwoo met his gaze. "A location where the System stabilizes. Reinforced shelter, food, possibly power. It was mentioned in passing before the first Scenario. Not common knowledge."
That was true—at least, it was in The Final Apocalypse Chronicles. Whether it was fact or fiction in this version of the world... even Hyunwoo didn't know. But now wasn't the time to explain that.
"You're serious?" Ryeok asked, voice quieter now.
"I am," Hyunwoo said. "You take this place by force, maybe you win. But you'll lose people doing it. And for what? A cramped shelter and a few scraps?"
He raised a hand slowly—not a threat, not a surrender. A deal.
"Or... you work with us. One night. No blood. In exchange, I lead you to the Safe Zone."
Ryeok's eyes narrowed. He looked at Ji-ah, then at Han Jinho, then back to Hyunwoo.
"...And what if it doesn't exist?"
"Then you can take my place," Hyunwoo said. "No resistance."
The tension hung like smoke.
Finally, Ryeok lowered the bat. "You've got nerve."
"I have survival instincts," Hyunwoo replied.
Ryeok grunted. "Fine. One night. But I'm holding you to that promise. If you lie—"
"I won't," Hyunwoo cut in, his voice low but certain.
Ryeok gave a single nod to his men, and the gang began filing into the shelter behind him—eyes still sharp, movements cautious.
As the last of them passed, Ji-ah leaned close and whispered under her breath, "You better be right about that Safe Zone."
Hyunwoo exhaled slowly, eyes scanning the dark beyond the door.
"Me too."