Chapter Text
“There are three ways to survive in a ruined world. Now, I have forgotten a few, but one thing is certain. The fact that you, who are reading this now, will survive.”
–Three Ways to Survive in a Ruined World.
I scrolled down. Up. Then down again, despite the fact that I couldn’t remember how many times I’ve been doing this.
“Really? That’s it?”
I exhaled, opened my eyes and glanced at the screen.
Unfortunately, the ‘COMPLETE’ was unmistakable.
The story was over.
[Three Ways to Survive in a Ruined World (TWAS)]
Author: tls123
3149 chapters
“Haa…” A sigh slipped out my mouth, feeling slightly betrayed.
TWAS was a feature-length fantasy novel that I’d been steadily reading since the third year of middle school.
I’d been reading it when I was bullied, when I ruined my entrance exam and was left with the choice to enter a third-rate local university. I’d been reading it when the damn random draw put me in the military unit at the forefront, when I repeatedly switched jobs and now working as a contractor of a large company…
Damn. Let’s stop talking about this.
[Author’s words: Thank you so much for reading TWAS up to here. I will come back to you with an epilogue!]
“Ah…There’s still an epilogue. I guess the next chapter really is the last one.”
This novel spanned over a decade, spun into life since my childhood and now into adulthood. Looking at the end of the page, it felt unreal that it was really ending. I couldn’t help feeling disappointed yet satisfied.
I replied to the author’s last message, and caught myself rewriting the reply several times.
KDJ: Author, thanks for everything. I’m looking forward to the epilogue.
This was sincere. TWAS had been my life. It wasn’t the most popular, but it was the best novel for me. There were many more I wanted to say yet couldn’t put into words. It’d be bad if I were to have said something stupid.
Average hits per chapter: 1.9
Average comments per chapter: 1.08
Yes. This was the average popularity index of TWAS.
Initially, the first chapter had 12000 views, which fell to 120 for the 10th chapter, then 12 for the 50th. By the time the chapter hits 100th, the view was only 1.
Hit - 1
I was overwhelmed by irritation when I saw the numerous 1s attached to the list of chapters. There were occasionally 2s, but those were more likely a misclick.
“Thank you.”
A novel with more than 3,000 chapters with only 1 hit per chapter over a decade. It felt like a story just for me.
The author deserved a lot more recognition. Seriously.
I pulled open the Recommendation Board and furiously started recommending TWAS. The moment it was sent, comments spawned almost immediately.
-
Looks like a new anti. They keep recommending the same novel several times.
-
Aren’t their recs banned? The author shouldn’t do this here.
It slipped my mind—the recommendation I made several months ago. In an instant, dozens of comments demanding investigation flooded the screen. My face flushed with embarrassment, my hands fumbled to delete the message.
A red exclamation mark popped up at the corner of the message box. [REPORTED]
“Damn it.” I bit down on my lip. The message was stuck to the board now.
“This…”
How upsetting. I was simply trying to be sincere and it turned out like this. Just try the novel. Why didn’t anyone bother to read it? I really wanted to donate to the author, but with my current salary…I could barely feed myself.
[tls123 sent you a message]
I froze.
Huh?
-tls123: Thank you.
My hands trembled.
-Kim Dokja: Author?
-tls123: I was able to complete it till the end thanks to you. I also won the competition.
TWAS won a competition?
That put a smile on my face.
-Kim Dokja: Congratulations! What’s the competition?
-tls123: It’s an unknown competition. You wouldn’t know.
I suspected they might be lying out of embarrassment, but right now I genuinely wanted it to be true. Maybe TWAS was a big hit on other platforms and I didn’t know. I was a little sad that the story wasn’t as exclusively for me as I thought, but it was good to hear an excellent story was spreading.
-tls123: I’d like to send you a thank you gift.
-Kim Dokja: A gift?
-tls123: It’s thanks to my dear reader that this story has come to the world.
I gave the writer my email address as they asked.
-tls123: Ah, right. I got the monetization schedule.
-Kim Dokja: Wow, really? When will it start? This masterpiece should’ve been paid for from the beginning.
I was lying, of course. TWAS was a daily series, so I would’ve had to pay 3,000 won a month. That was one convenience store lunch for me.
-tls123: It starts tomorrow.
-Kim Dokja: So the epilogue coming tomorrow has to be paid?
-tls123: Yes. I’m afraid you need to pay for it.
-Kim Dokja: Of course, I’d pay! I’ll buy the last one!
I waited for a reply. One second. Two. Did the author just leave after announcing their success? My admiration immediately soured.
-tls123: Kim Dokja.
-Kim Dokja:Yes?
The author came back. I was honestly surprised.
-tls123: djkKim
-tls123: 0eododfk00000000000000
I frowned at the gibberish onscreen.
-Kim Dokja:Are you alright?
No response. I waited again, then felt pathetic that I was tricked twice into expecting something.
-tls123: Stay where you are.
Were they going to hand the gift over to me personally?
-Kim Dokja: How do you know where I am?
“At this rate, you’d get sucked into your smartphone.”
I raised my head reflexively. In the stifling subway, a pair of eyes studied me curiously. They belonged to an employee from the human resources team.
Yoo Sangah.
“Ah.” I finally remembered to greet her. “Hello.”
“Are you going home from work?”
I nodded. “What about Yoo Sangah-ssi?”
“I was lucky that the manager went on a business trip today.” She sat down next to me as soon as it was vacant. A subtle scent of perfume was shrugged off her shoulder.
My heart skipped.
“Do you normally take the subway?”
"That…" Yoo Sangah’s expression darkened.
Thinking about it, this was the first time I saw her on a subway train. From Personnel Manager Kang to Finance Manager Han, there were rumours that men from the company had been driving her home every workday.
"Someone stole my bicycle."
Bicycle.
"You commute by bike?"
"Yes! I feel like I've been getting less exercise…since I've been working overtime a lot lately. And because there was also a bit of an annoying matter… Things like that were why."
So that’s how it was.
She smiled brightly. Seeing her up close, I understood why men found her attractive. Still, ultimately, it didn't matter to me. The genre of every person's life was already determined, and Yoo Sangah was someone who lived in a genre unrelated to mine.
After the awkward conversation, we both went back to our phones. I opened up the webnovel platform I was on before—
"Puede prestarme dinero."
"Huh?"
"Spanish."
"…I see. What does it mean?"
"Please give me some money," Yoo Sangah replied, beaming proudly. Studying on the subway while going home…She was truly living in a different genre.
But where was she planning to use that phrase?
"You're working hard."
"By the way, what is Dokja-ssi looking at?"
"Ah, I–"
Before I could react, Yoo Sangah's gaze landed on the webnovel page of my smartphone.
"Is it a novel?"
"Yes, well… You could say that I'm studying Korean."
"Wow, I also like novels. I haven't been able to read lately because I don't have time…"
Yoo Sangah liked reading novels?
She counted on her fingers. "Novels like Murakami Haruki, Raymond Carver, Han Kang…"
Ah.
Of course.
Then she asked, “Dokja-ssi, which writer was your favourite?”
I laughed a little. "You won't know even if I say their names."
The subway shook, a metallic screech tore through my ear drums.
Yoo Sangah screamed and clung onto my arm. The passengers were stirred up, mouths opening and closing as they shouted something into the air. In the ruckus, Yoo Sangah’s grip tightened gradually until I could only focus on the pain.
Seconds passed. The train pulled into a stop, flinging us forward. The lights immediately went out.
Confused voices rose from all sides.
"Uh, what?"
"W-What is this?"
In the dark, one or two smartphones lit up, their flashlights sweeping across the carriage. Yoo Sangah was still holding onto my left arm tightly.
She stammered. "W-What is going on?"
I pretended to be unconcerned.
"Don't worry. It’s not a big deal."
She looked unconvinced. "Is that so?"
"Yes. It’s probably a disturbance from a suicide. The engineers will probably make an announcement soon."
But the announcement did not come.
A clang. The inside of the carriage was suddenly brightened, the ceiling of the train curled up and pushed aside like an opened sardine can. The passengers gasped and pressed their backs onto the walls.
Thud. Thud. Boots struck against steel. A shadow obscured the light pouring into the carriage. A figure looked down at us. My eyes focused as the shadow fell away.
With how he was dressed, I was struck with a sense of Deja Vu.
It couldn’t be.
His boots slammed into the floor of the carriage.
His dark coat billowed like a raging sea as he landed, the metal cage shivering under the sheer impact. The passengers sensed that something was wrong and backed away.
“Damn it! Who are you? A terrorist?” A salaryman was already putting his briefcase up as a last-ditch defense. “Please! Spare me! I have a wife and a child at home…”
“All passengers on the train. Telling all passengers on the train…” The engineer’s announcement came on, though I could no longer listen to the words.
Eyebrows seemingly drawn by a single, uninterrupted stroke of a famed artist's brush; a nose and a chin shaped in perfect angles that defied attempts to measure them through mere devices of men; a pair of deep eyes seemingly carved out of a beautiful jewel containing all the misfortunes found in this world…
No.
Yoo Joonghyuk…in the real world?
His sword clinked as he stepped forward. Paired with how easily he had torn the carriage open, the scene was a textbook omen for bad news.
“E-Everyone! Run away… Run…!”
“Dokja-ssi! We need to run!” Yoo Sangah shouted. She pulled me back frantically, pushing through the chaotic crowd accumulating on one side. They banged on the carriage door, even attempting to smash a fire extinguisher on the tempered glass but to no avail. Soon enough we were forced into one corner of the train.
In a split second, the protagonist flashed and reappeared before me.
A rough, calloused hand wrapped around my arm and yanked me away from Yoo Sangah.
“Dokja-ssi!”
Succumbing to my instinct, I struggled and tried to twist my arm out of the protagonist’s grasp like there was no tomorrow. My mind was hardly wrapping around the situation. The confusion was so overwhelming I even attempted to just give up then and there.
“Sir, I advise you to let him go!” It came from a sturdy man with a buzzcut, a head taller from the average height. The man gritted his teeth, hands rolled into fists on his sides. “Harming a civilian is a serious crime!”
My eyes instantly locked onto him.
Isn’t that…?
“Steel Sword Lee Hyunsung.” The protagonist’s voice boomed.
Two characters from the novel had appeared.
I felt the protagonist’s arm coiled tighter around my waist, locking my hands in. With this posture, my neck went sore in the span of seconds, and soon enough I found myself propping my head on his shoulder.
Yoo Joonghyuk.
My brain immediately searched through the 3000 chapters, trying to find the reason why he’d ripped the train apart and held me hostage and an explanation for this absurd situation where TWAS was merging into reality.
I didn’t have an answer now, but there was one thing I knew for sure:
Even with Steel Sword Lee Hyunsung here, who was now still merely a normal former soldier. We wouldn’t stand a chance.
I needed to do something for both of our survival.
Lee Hyunsung launched one step forward.
“Regressor Yoo Joonghyuk!” I blurted out, and the protagonist’s eyes immediately trained on me. The pressure was so overwhelming I felt blood pulled back from my fingers.
Right. I shivered, putting on my best face. I was holding onto his attention now, I had to secure this opportunity to frame myself as the prophet. Knowing him, Yoo Joonghyuk would not kill anyone useful—
“Kim Dokja.” He answered, his gaze softening.
Huh?
A bright light flashed from behind the protagonist. In the subway train, there was a drumming sound growing gradually louder, followed by a pop.
Something was heading this way in the darkness.
[The free service of planetary system 8612 has been terminated.]
[The main scenario has started.]
The protagonist’s eyes hardened again.
According to TWAS, at the beginning of the story, this was supposed to be Yoo Joonghyuk’s third regression.
But why, instead of emerging from carriage 3707, was he here right now?
Yoo Joonghyuk threw me over his shoulder, slicing a hole into the side of the subway train. The metal door collapsed onto the railway with a metallic shriek.
“I’m taking you back home.”