That night, after everything that had happened—
Yeon and Jisung returned to their respective beach houses in silence.
Neither of them brought it up again.
Not the system.
Not the rank.
Not the secret now shared between them.
But something had changed.
Subtly.
Irreversibly.
The next five days passed quicker than expected.
What started as an awkward, tension-filled trip slowly shifted into something… easier.
More natural.
There were still moments of discomfort—especially at the beginning—but they faded with time.
Conversations became less forced.
Silences became less heavy.
And somehow—
Yeon and Jisung kept ending up near each other.
At the beach.
During meals.
Even during group activities.
At first, it was coincidence.
Then it became… intentional.
Not obvious.
Not spoken.
But noticeable.
To everyone.
"Wow," Kim had whispered one day, watching them walk side by side. "Look at that. Character development."
"Shut up," Yeon had muttered.
Jisung, walking just ahead, had clearly heard—and chosen to ignore it.
Or pretend to.
Even Felix and Seo-wu had started noticing.
"…You're spending a lot of time with him," Seo-wu had said casually.
"…Am I?" Jisung replied.
"Yes."
Felix grinned.
"It's cute."
"It's not."
"Sure."
Despite everything—
Despite Yeon's initial resistance, his confusion, his denial—
They grew closer.
Slowly.
But undeniably.
When summer vacation finally ended, things didn't go back to the way they were.
If anything—
They changed even more.
Yeon and Jisung continued to meet.
Not as often as during the trip—but enough.
More than enough to raise questions.
And their friend groups?
They started overlapping too.
Which wasn't exactly easy.
Jisung and his friends were fourth-years.
Older. More experienced. More intimidating.
Yeon and his friends were first-years.
Younger. Louder. Far less composed.
The difference showed.
"Why do I feel like I'm being evaluated?" Jake whispered once.
"You probably are," Kim whispered back.
"I don't like it."
"Stand straight."
"I am standing straight."
"…Stand straighter."
Despite that—
It worked.
Somehow.
Awkward at times, yes.
But not impossible.
And over time—
Even that gap started to feel smaller.
Meanwhile—
Far from their view—
Things were being carefully arranged.
Mr. Han had not forgotten what he had overheard.
If anything—
He had taken it very seriously.
Quietly.
Efficiently.
Without drawing attention.
He had people watching Yeon.
Not openly.
Not in a way that would raise suspicion.
But enough to know where he went.
Who he spoke to.
What he did.
Every detail—
Noted.
Controlled.
Because if Yeon-hwa was as valuable as he seemed—
Then nothing could be left to chance.
Especially not something as unpredictable as—
Feelings.
Mr. Han had no intention of allowing outside influence.
No distractions.
No unexpected attachments.
Any possibility of Yeon growing close to someone else—
Was subtly removed before it could even begin.
And at the same time—
He did the opposite.
Carefully.
Delicately.
He created opportunities.
Moments where Yeon and Jisung would meet.
Situations where they would be alone.
Small, seemingly natural coincidences—
That were anything but accidental.
A seat placed just right.
A schedule aligned just enough.
An encounter timed perfectly.
Nothing obvious.
Nothing forced.
But enough to guide things in the direction he wanted.
"…Let things develop naturally," Mr. Han had said once.
But behind the scenes—
There was nothing natural about it.
And neither Yeon nor Jisung knew—
That their growing closeness—
Was being quietly, carefully orchestrated.
NOVEMBER 6TH 2026
2:00 AM
A sharp, blaring sound tore through the silence.
Yeon-hwa jolted awake.
"…What—?"
For a moment, he couldn't process where the noise was coming from. His room was dark, the only light flickering from the television across the room.
The emergency broadcast.
The screen flashed red.
A distorted alarm echoed again, louder this time, followed by a voice that struggled to remain steady.
"—nationwide emergency—unexplained mass unconsciousness—citizens are advised to—"
The signal crackled.
Cut.
Returned.
Yeon sat up fully now, his heart already starting to race.
"…This isn't normal."
He threw the blanket aside and rushed out of his room.
"Mom?" he called. "Mia?"
No answer.
The hallway felt too quiet.
Too still.
A bad feeling settled in his chest as he pushed open his parents' door.
"…Mom?"
His mother was lying on the bed.
Unmoving.
Peaceful—but wrong.
"Asleep…?" Yeon whispered, stepping closer. "Mom, wake up."
He gently shook her shoulder.
No response.
His stomach dropped.
"…No."
He turned and rushed to his sister's room.
"Mia!"
She was the same.
Lying on her bed.
Fast asleep.
Completely unresponsive.
Yeon stood there, frozen for a second.
"…This isn't sleep."
He could feel it.
Something was off.
This wasn't normal exhaustion.
Not even close.
He stepped back slowly, his mind racing.
Everyone…?
He ran back to the living room, eyes snapping to the TV.
The broadcast had stabilized slightly.
"—reports confirm that individuals across multiple regions have suddenly fallen unconscious—"
"—no visible injuries—no signs of external attack—"
"—only confirmed unaffected individuals are those identified as awakened—"
Yeon's breath hitched.
"…Awakened."
His fingers curled slightly.
So it wasn't just his family.
It wasn't just this building.
It was—
"…Everyone."
Everyone who wasn't awakened.
Falling asleep.
At the same time.
Without warning.
Without cause.
Without any trace of how.
A chill ran down his spine.
Because this—
This wasn't something small.
This wasn't a random incident.
This felt—
Deliberate.
Yeon slowly looked back toward the hallway, where his family lay unconscious.
"…What the hell is happening?"
The question hung in the air.
Unanswered.
And somewhere deep down—
He already knew.
This had something to do with dreams.
Yeon didn't waste a second.
He started with his mother.
Kneeling beside her, he took a steady breath and placed his hand gently against her forehead.
"…Please let this work," he muttered.
Focusing, he recalled the process—connecting, entering, slipping into the dream.
The world around him dissolved.
When his vision cleared—
He found himself standing in a quiet, ordinary setting.
"…Huh?"
It looked… normal.
Too normal.
No dark atmosphere.
No distorted environment.
No monsters lurking in the distance.
Just a simple, peaceful dream.
"…That's new."
Yeon stayed alert anyway, his guard still up as he walked forward.
Last time had been chaotic—layers, monsters, getting lost, nearly dying multiple times.
This time?
Nothing.
"…Suspicious," he muttered.
But as he moved further, it became clear—
There were no threats.
No traps.
No shifting terrain.
Just silence.
And at the center of it all—
The core.
Floating in plain sight.
Yeon blinked.
"…That was fast."
He approached it carefully, still half-expecting something to jump out at him.
Nothing did.
"…Okay…?"
He reached out and struck it.
Crack.
The core shattered instantly.
The dream collapsed just as quickly as it had formed.
Yeon opened his eyes.
Back in the real world.
His hand still resting on his mother's forehead.
"…That was easy."
Too easy.
He frowned slightly, but didn't waste time thinking about it.
"Mia next."
He moved quickly to his sister's room and repeated the process.
This time, he was even more prepared.
More cautious.
Expecting at least something to go wrong.
But again—
The moment he entered—
Nothing.
No monsters.
No layers.
No resistance.
Just another calm, harmless dream.
"…You've got to be kidding me."
Even the core was easy to find.
Right there.
Like it was waiting for him.
"…This feels like cheating."
Still, he broke it.
Crack.
And just like that—
He was pulled out again.
Back in reality, Yeon stepped back, running a hand through his hair.
"…Both of them were simple."
Too simple.
A sharp contrast to what he had experienced before.
No danger.
No struggle.
No complexity.
"…Last time I almost died," he muttered. "And now it's this?"
Something didn't add up.
At all.
Because if this was happening to everyone—
If millions of people had fallen asleep like this—
Then their dreams shouldn't all be this easy.
Right?
Yeon glanced between his mother and sister, both still unconscious.
"…This isn't normal."
A quiet unease settled in his chest.
Because easy—
Didn't mean safe.
And whatever was causing this—
Was still out there.
Elsewhere—
Chaos burned through the night.
Flames crawled across the ground, licking at the remains of overturned cars. Smoke filled the air, thick and suffocating, turning every breath into a struggle. The sharp scent of burning metal mixed with something heavier—something wrong.
Several vehicles had crashed into each other, abandoned at odd angles as if their drivers had simply… stopped.
No horns.
No voices.
No movement.
Just fire.
And silence.
An unnatural, suffocating silence.
"…Hello?" a small voice called out.
In the middle of it all—
A girl stood alone.
She couldn't have been older than twelve.
Her clothes were slightly singed at the edges, her hair messy, her face smudged with ash—but her eyes were wide, alert, and determined.
"…Wake up," she said, kneeling beside an unconscious man.
She gently shook his shoulder.
"Please… wake up…"
No response.
Her hands trembled slightly—but she didn't stop.
Moving from one person to another, she tried again and again, shaking them, calling out to them, her voice growing more desperate each time.
"Hey—! Can you hear me?"
"Please wake up—!"
"…Anyone?"
Nothing.
Not a single person stirred.
The fire crackled loudly behind her, a harsh contrast to the stillness of the bodies scattered around.
The girl swallowed, forcing herself to stay calm.
"…It's okay," she whispered to herself. "It's okay… I can fix this…"
She looked down at her hands.
Hesitated.
Then—
"…I have to try."
Taking a shaky breath, she placed her hand on the nearest person's forehead.
Her expression tightened in concentration.
The air around her seemed to shift—just slightly.
A faint glow flickered at her fingertips.
"…Come on," she murmured.
And in that moment—
She wasn't just a scared child in the middle of chaos.
She was something else.
Someone awakened.
Her name was Priya.
Twelve years old.
A Dream Hunter.
Rank—
E.
The lowest.
And yet—
Right now—
She was the only one standing.