The walk toward the Gangnam Safety Zone was a journey through a dying civilization being replaced by a digital nightmare. As they moved North-East, the "Static Fog" cleared, but what it revealed was worse.
The System was "re-skinning" the city. The Lotte World Tower had been transformed into a jagged spire of white quartz that pulsed with a rhythmic, sickly light—a "System Spire" used to broadcast the Patch data across the peninsula.
"The compass is vibrating," Ji-yoon whispered. She was wearing a discarded tactical vest she'd found in the warehouse, her broken bow now reinforced with "Deleted" wire from the trash crate. "It's getting stronger. We're close."
Han-ul gripped the [Broken Compass of the Architect]. The needle wasn't just pointing; it was twitching in sync with the pulsing Spire.
"The Safety Zone isn't just a sanctuary," Han-ul muttered, his face hidden beneath the deep hood of the [Scavenger's Cloak]. "It's a Synchronization Farm. Look at the air."
Ji-yoon squinted. In the distance, a shimmering dome of golden light covered the heart of the city. Beneath the dome, the air was unnaturally clear, filled with floating golden motes. It looked beautiful—the first beautiful thing left on Earth.
But through the lens of Han-ul's [Patch Notes], it looked like a slaughterhouse.
[ZONE: GANGNAM SANCTUARY (BETA TESTER HUB)]
Status: High-Speed Synchronization Active.
Note 11: Every minute spent inside the dome increases 'System Loyalty' by 0.1%.
Note 12: Upon reaching 100% Loyalty, the subject's 'Personality Data' is archived and replaced by 'Hero Logic v.1.0.'
"We can't go in through the front gate," Han-ul said. "The 'Heroes' will have their own security now. And with this cloak, I look like a Level 1 beggar. They'll either execute me as an 'Inefficiency' or throw me into the labor camps."
"Labor camps?" Ji-yoon's voice cracked. "I thought this was supposed to be the end of the world, not a corporate takeover."
"To the System, there's no difference," Han-ul replied. "A world is just a database. If a file isn't useful, it's compressed. If it's corrupted, it's deleted. The 'non-gifted' humans in there are currently being used as 'Bio-Processors' to help render the new map."
They reached the perimeter of the dome. A massive wall of transparent energy blocked the street. On the other side, life looked almost... normal. People were walking around, eating System-generated rations, and looking up at the "Heroes" who patrolled the streets in gleaming armor.
At the checkpoint, a line of refugees waited to enter. Standing guard were three Testers—Level 8 Warriors. Their eyes were that same glazed, artificial gold that Arthur's had been.
Han-ul looked at the Compass. It wasn't pointing at the gate. It was pointing down.
"There," Han-ul pointed to a heavy manhole cover tucked behind a collapsed bus. "The Architect of this world was lazy. They used the old sewage lines as the base code for the System's 'Data Veins.' If we go under, we can bypass the Loyalty Check at the gate."
They pried the cover open and slipped into the darkness.
The sewers were no longer filled with water. Instead, thick cables of glowing blue light ran along the walls, humming with the sound of a million whispers. This was the "nervous system" of the New Earth.
As they waded through the dry tunnels, Han-ul felt the [Null-Blade] at his hip grow cold. The hilt was reacting to the proximity of so much pure data.
"Wait," Han-ul stopped.
A few yards ahead, the blue cables were being tapped. A man in a tattered lab coat was sitting on a crate, holding a handheld device that looked like a modified smartphone. He was "bleeding" the data from the cables into a glowing battery.
The man looked up, his eyes wide with terror. He wasn't a Tester. He didn't have a status bar above his head. He was a "Normal"—one of the billions who had been left behind.
"I-I'm just taking what's leaked!" the man stammered, holding up his hands. "The Spire doesn't miss it! Please, don't tell the Paladins!"
Han-ul stepped forward, the Scavenger's Cloak hiding his features. "I'm not a Paladin. Who are you?"
"My name is Choi," the man said, his breathing shallow. "I was an engineer at Samsung before... before the sky broke. Now I'm a 'Leech.' There's a group of us down here. We can't live in the dome—the 'Blessing' makes our heads feel like they're exploding. So we hide here and steal power to keep our heaters running."
Han-ul's eyes sharpened. This was a variable he hadn't seen in the Patch Notes. A resistance?
"You can't live in the dome because your 'Loyalty' won't sync," Han-ul realized aloud. "You're high-intellect variables. The System finds you too expensive to convert, so it rejects you."
"Is that what it is?" Choi laughed bitterly. "I just thought I was too stubborn to die. Who are you? You have no Level. No aura. Are you a ghost?"
"I'm the 101st Error," Han-ul said, pulling back his hood. "And I need to know where the Heroes keep the 'unstable' assets. The ones they haven't been able to convert yet."
Choi looked at Han-ul, then at the silent Ji-yoon. He saw the Null-Blade. "You're looking for the 'Red Ward.' It's under the Old City Hall. They've got about twenty Testers there who fought back. Arthur—the one they call the First Hero—is planning to 'Hard-Format' them tomorrow at dawn."
Hard-Format. Execution by data-wipe.
Han-ul looked at the Compass. It was spinning frantically now.
"Ji-yoon," Han-ul said, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous tone. "We aren't just here to scout. We're here to jailbreak the only people left who can still think for themselves."
"But there's only two of us," she protested. "And you're Level 1!"
"I'm Level 1," Han-ul agreed, his hand gripping the Null-Blade. "But in a world made of code, the person who holds the 'Delete' key is king."
He turned back to Choi. "Engineer, how much power do you have in that battery?"
"Enough to jumpstart a city block for ten minutes," Choi said.
"Good," Han-ul Smirked. "I'm going to need you to blow the 'Firewall' of the City Hall. I'm going in through the back door."