The first thing that reached him was sound. A dull, endless murmur echoed against his ears, steady and cold, as if the world itself was breathing beside him.
Drops of water struck his face one after another, dragging him out of the darkness, and his eyelids trembled before slowly opening. His vision swam, blurred by pain and exhaustion, until gray skies and broken concrete came into focus.
He lay on a riverbank, his body half-soaked, clothes clinging to his skin as the Han River flowed past with an uncaring calm.
For a few seconds, his mind was empty. Then fragments returned like shards of glass.
The crowded station, the familiar subway, the final chapter notification, the red emergency lights, screams, blood, the impossible blue screen, and the bridge collapsing beneath them all. His breathing quickened as he pushed himself up, coughing out river water, his chest tightening when he looked back.
The bridge was gone. What remained were twisted sections of steel and concrete jutting out over the river like broken bones, smoke still rising from parts that had burned.
There was no subway, no sign of the dozens of people who had been with him moments ago, and no proof that any of it should have been survivable. He stared at the ruins for a long time, his thoughts looping between disbelief and terror, until a sharp sting pulled his attention back to himself.
His arms were scraped raw, blood dried along his palms and forearms, and pain throbbed through his shoulder and ribs whenever he moved.
As he checked himself, a familiar flicker of blue light appeared in front of his eyes.
The screen hovered in the air, translucent and unreal, and for a moment he wondered if he had finally lost his mind.
You have cleared Main Scenario #1.] [Reward distribution will begin shortly.]
He exhaled a shaky laugh, staring straight through the words as if refusing to acknowledge them might make them disappear. In his head, this was still a dream, or perhaps the final hallucination of a life that had ended in the river.
The screen shifted again, lines of text rearranging themselves without sound.
[Reward: 500 Coins] [Reward: Main Skill]
His fingers hesitated in midair before he raised his hand. It passed through the screen at first, cool and empty like mist, but when he focused and tried again, a faint ripple spread across the blue surface. Swallowing his fear, he selected the option for the skill.
The screen glitches . For a brief instant, symbols distorted and lines overlapped as if something had gone wrong, and then new text stabilized in front of him.
[Main Skill: Copy] [Rank: ??]
A description followed, long enough to make his heart pound.
[Skill Effect: Allows the user to copy the skills of others.] [Current Limit: 3 skills.] [Restriction: Copied skills are reduced by one rank due to low skill level.] [Note: Skill capacity and effectiveness will increase with growth.]
The screen vanished as suddenly as it had appeared, leaving him staring at empty air.
He stood there for several seconds, replaying the words in his head, and a bitter smile crept onto his face.
He had read stories like this for years, watched characters gain abilities and grow stronger, yet when it happened to him, there was no excitement, only confusion and fear.
Instinctively, he tried to summon a status window.
He concentrated, recalling every novel scene where numbers and attributes appeared with a thought, but nothing responded. The silence felt heavier than before.
With no answers waiting for him, he forced himself to stand, ignoring the pain, and turned toward the city beyond the river.
The skyline he remembered was gone. Buildings stood broken and hollow, fires smoldered in the distance, and smoke drifted through the streets like fog.
Cars lay overturned, storefronts shattered, and the road was littered with debris that crunched under his feet as he walked. The city looked like it had aged decades in a single night.
As he moved deeper inside, the smell reached him first. Blood and decay clung to the air, and soon he saw the source.
Bodies lay scattered along the street, some crushed beneath rubble, others torn apart in ways he could not bring himself to examine closely.
Among them were shapes that were not human at all, twisted forms that made his stomach churn.
He ducked into a small store to steady himself. Inside, shelves had been knocked over, but some supplies remained untouched.
He changed into cleaner clothes he found there, ate what food was still sealed and fresh, and drank until the shaking in his hands eased.
From a dusty cabinet, he retrieved a first-aid box and carefully bandaged his wounds, hissing softly as pain flared.
Before leaving, he picked up a steel pipe from the floor, its weight reassuring in his grip even if it was a poor substitute for real protection.
The noise came when he least expected it. A wet, tearing sound echoed from an alley ahead, and curiosity mixed with dread pulled him closer. Peering around the corner, he froze.
Creatures crouched over a human body, tearing into flesh with savage hunger, their movements jerky and inhuman.
Fear clenched his chest, and every instinct screamed at him to run.
As he backed away, his foot struck a metal bin. It toppled with a loud crash, echoing down the street, and the creatures snapped their heads toward him in unison. Panic took over. He ran.
His lungs burned as he sprinted, footsteps pounding behind him, and just as he turned into a wider street, his foot caught on debris. He fell hard, the pipe skidding away, and shadows leapt toward him. Gunshots shattered the air.
The monsters dropped one by one as bullets tore through them, and voices shouted orders he barely processed.
Hands grabbed his arm and pulled him up, dragging him away as more distant roars echoed through the ruined city.
A man barked that the noise would draw more of them, and they had to move fast.
He followed them without protest, stumbling until they reached a hidden shelter reinforced with barricades.
Inside, exhausted faces turned toward him, questions flying about supplies and the situation outside.
When asked who he was, the group explained they had found him while returning from a supply run.
An old man approached him quietly, placing a blanket over his shoulders with a tired smile.
He told him to rest wherever he could.
Nodding in silence, he found an empty corner, curled up, and closed his eyes as the weight of the day finally crushed down on him.
The blue screen did not appear again, but the world he woke into felt far more unreal than any dream.