Fang barely slept.
He lay on his bed staring at the ceiling while the faint glow on his wrist pulsed like a heartbeat. Each time his eyes drifted shut, the image of that tall silhouette from the street returned—standing in the darkness, watching.
Waiting.
By the time morning sunlight crept into his room, Fang felt like his brain had only rested for minutes instead of hours.
He sat up, rubbing his temples.
"Day one," he murmured to himself. "Survive. Prepare. Stay ahead."
He walked to the window cautiously and peeked outside.
No silhouette.
No strange shadow.
The streetlight looked normal again, as if last night never happened.
But he knew better.
He went downstairs and found his mother cooking breakfast while Minari sat at the table, yawning exaggeratedly.
Minari pointed at him with a spoon. "Look who didn't sleep. See? That's what happens when you stare at darkness like a psycho."
Fang ignored her and poured water into a cup.
His mother glanced at him with concern. "You look pale. Bad dreams?"
Fang considered telling her something—anything. But if he said even one detail, she would worry, panic, or worse, try to stop him from preparing.
So he simply nodded. "Nightmares."
His mother placed a warm hand on his shoulder.
"You've always been sensitive to stressful things. Take it slow today."
Sensitive?
If only she knew.
Minari smirked. "He's just scared someone will see him falling with his pants down again."
Fang stared at her deadpan.
"I can always throw you again, you know."
Minari shrank back instantly. "Don't! My ankle still hurts!"
But Fang could see it—her ankle wasn't hurting anymore.
The pain ripples he had seen last night were gone.
Meaning his touch…
actually helped.
He turned away before she noticed him analyzing her like a medical scanner.
He ate quickly, grabbed his notebook, and stepped outside.
He needed fresh air.
He needed to think.
He walked down the street slowly, pretending to be normal. People passed by with their usual routines—joggers, delivery boys, an old man sweeping leaves.
Everything looked peaceful on the surface.
But Fang could feel the world differently now.
The air around him carried that faint hum again—subtle, quiet, but present.
Like energy was flowing somewhere it wasn't supposed to.
He reached the convenience store at the corner and stepped inside. The cool air hit his face as he walked to the back aisles.
He grabbed the basics—snacks, water bottles, instant meals. Nothing that would draw attention.
As he approached the cashier, the old store owner—Mr. Han—looked at him closely.
"You're out early today," the old man said, scanning items.
"Couldn't sleep," Fang replied.
"Mm. That happens when something big is coming."
Fang's grip tightened around the counter.
"…What do you mean?"
Mr. Han chuckled softly. "Oh, nothing too deep. My bones hurt more than usual today. Usually means rain. Or a storm."
Fang exhaled.
A storm.
If only it were that simple.
As he left the store, he noticed something unusual. A stray dog was standing at the edge of the sidewalk, staring at him.
Not barking.
Not wagging its tail.
Just staring.
Fang slowed down.
The dog's fur stood slightly on edge—almost like Dubu had reacted to his wrist glow. But this dog looked more alert. Its head tilted.
Its eyes shifted to Fang's wrist.
The number wasn't glowing, but the dog reacted as if seeing something humans couldn't.
Fang froze in place.
"…You sense it too?"
The dog growled low—not a threat, but fear.
Then it turned abruptly and sprinted away.
Fang's heart pounded harder.
That silhouette last night.
The flickering lamp.
Animals reacting.
Stage Zero.
The timeline was moving faster.
Something was pushing the world toward the disaster earlier than expected.
As he walked home, a sudden vibration hit his wrist—sharper than before. He stopped on the sidewalk and lifted his arm.
A new message appeared.
Glowing softly.
"System Synchronization: 2%"
Fang felt his blood turn cold.
The system…
was installing itself.
Like a program updating.
He held his breath as more text appeared:
"Warning: External anomaly detected.
Preparing user for early activation."
Early activation.
So the world wasn't changing early by accident.
The system itself sensed it.
Fang looked up at the sky—the calm, bright, peaceful morning sky.
"How early…?" he whispered.
The answer came instantly.
"Anomaly arrival estimated: 27 days, 12 hours."
Fang felt shocked.
It wasn't 30 days anymore.
The disaster had moved up.
Two days less than the previous timeline.
His hands trembled slightly, but he forced himself to stay calm.
"Fine," he muttered. "If the world wants to start early… then I'll prepare early."
He began walking faster, determination burning in his chest.
But he didn't notice the shadow on the other side of the street.
Tall.
Still.
Watching him walk away.
And with that silent presence lingering behind him—
Fang stared at the floating window in front of him, the glowing number stretching endlessly into a blur of nines. It felt like the number was mocking him. Infinite. Impossible. Wrong.
He rubbed his wrist again, hoping the strange mark would simply fade if he blinked enough times. But it didn't. It glowed faintly, pulsing like a heartbeat.
Minari, meanwhile, was sprawled on his bed, legs dangling off the edge, flipping through her phone as if nothing world-shattering had happened.
"You're staring at your hand like you just discovered you have fingers," she said without looking up.
Fang didn't respond. His mind was already far away.
That number… it wasn't random. It meant something. Something big.
The disaster, the monsters, the collapse of everything—he remembered it clearly. In his past life, people awakened abilities. Some weak, some strong, some… beyond understanding.
He gulped.
"What if… this is my ability?"
The moment he whispered that to himself, the wrist-mark flickered. A faint sound followed—barely audible, like static inside his skull.
Then a voice. Mechanical. Calm.
[Initialization complete.]
Fang froze.
Minari noticed the sudden stiffness. She narrowed her eyes.
"Why are you standing like a broken statue now?"
He didn't even hear her. His focus locked on the glowing space in front of him.
Another line appeared.
[User: Fang]
[Authority: Undefined]
[Energy Capacity: ∞]
He sucked in a sharp breath.
Energy. Capacity. Infinite.
His heart hammered in his chest, louder than the ticking clock on the wall.
Minari finally stood up, sensing something was off.
"Hey… you okay? You look like you saw a ghost."
Fang swallowed hard and forced his face back to normal.
"Y-Yeah. Just… remembering something."
But Minari wasn't convinced. She stepped closer, squinting in suspicion.
"You look like you're hiding something."
Fang took a small step back automatically.
"No. Nothing."
She moved closer again.
"You liar. Your ears turn red when you lie."
He touched his ears instinctively—damn, she was right.
Before she could interrogate him more, their mother's voice echoed from downstairs.
"Kids! If you're done fighting, come and help set the table!"
Minari smirked.
"You're lucky Mom saved you."
Fang released the breath he'd been holding.
If Minari saw the glowing numbers, she would never let him rest. And worse—if the world found out someone had infinite energy, he would become a target before the disaster even began.
He followed Minari out of his room, but just before stepping out, he sneaked one last look at the glowing interface.
[System awakening: 0.5%]
Half a percent.
His ability hadn't even fully unlocked yet.
What will happen when it reaches 100%?
A chill ran down his spine.
He wasn't sure if it would save him… or destroy him.