I didn’t sleep that night, not because I was fully awake, but because every time I closed my eyes, the image of that familiar game logo kept appearing behind my eyelids, bright and clear as if it had been burned into my mind after two full years of staring at it every single night.
When morning finally came, I dragged myself out of bed and went to work like usual, standing in the crowded subway with my head lowered and my phone loosely held in my hand, half-expecting the app to disappear again so I could laugh it off and tell myself that everything had only been a strange dream caused by exhaustion and stress.
But it was still there.
[ GHOST RAIDING WORLD ]
[ STATUS: READY ]
The words sat quietly on my screen, unchanged and undeniable, and my fingers tightened around my phone as an uncomfortable pressure settled in my chest, because no matter how I looked at it, this wasn’t something that should exist anymore.
The game was supposed to be over.
At the office, the day began like any other, with people greeting each other loudly, chairs scraping against the floor, and the familiar sound of keyboards filling the room, yet the longer I sat at my desk, the more uneasy I became, as if something invisible was standing just behind me, waiting for the right moment to make itself known.
I tried to focus on my work, forcing my eyes to stay on the screen, but my attention kept drifting back to my phone, which felt heavier than usual even though it hadn’t vibrated yet.
Then it did.
Once.
Then again.
Then over and over again, until the sound of notifications blended into a sharp ringing in my ears.
*Ding一
*Ding一
*Ding一
Before I could even unlock the screen, the lights above us flickered violently, causing confused murmurs to spread throughout the office, while someone laughed awkwardly and joked that the building’s electricity must be acting up again.
That joke ended quickly.
The windows darkened all at once, not because of clouds or rain, but because something massive blocked out the sky, casting an unnatural shadow over the entire floor.
Craaaash 一
The glass shattered inward with a deafening sound, exploding across the office as shards scattered everywhere, and I instinctively raised my arms to shield my face while my heart slammed painfully against my ribs.
Screams erupted from every direction.
People ran without thinking, knocking over chairs and desks in their panic, while others froze in place as if their bodies refused to respond to what their eyes were seeing.
Through the broken window frame, something dragged itself inside.
Its limbs bent in ways they shouldn’t, its movements jerky and wrong, and when it opened its mouth, it stretched far wider than any human’s ever could, releasing a low, distorted sound that made my stomach twist.
I knew it.
Not because the system explained it to me.
But because I had seen it before, dozens of times, in dark areas and early-game zones where most players died without understanding why.
Ding 一
[ MAIN SCENARIO START ]
[ SCENARIO 1: SURVIVE ]
[ LOCATION: SEOUL — ALL AREAS ]
[ FAILURE CONDITION: DEATH ]
The message didn’t appear on my phone.
It floated in the air, large and impossible to ignore, and in that moment, it felt like the world itself had been overwritten by something else.
This wasn’t a screen.
This wasn’t virtual.
Someone screamed my name.
“BAEK-HYEON—!”
I turned my head and saw Choi Han standing near his desk, his face completely drained of color as he stared at the monster with wide, shaking eyes, his usual playful expression nowhere to be found.
For a brief moment, he looked exactly like how I remembered him from the past.
Scared.
Small.
Human.
Then—
Ding 一
[ PLAYER IDENTIFIED ]
[ NAME: CHOI HAN ]
[ ROLE: MAIN PLAYER ]
[ INITIAL SKILL GRANTED ]
Choi Han staggered backward as if someone had shoved him, one hand clutching his head while he gasped in pain, his knees nearly giving out as glowing text appeared right in front of him, bright enough for everyone nearby to see.
“What… what is this…?” he muttered, his voice shaking as his eyes darted around, trying to understand what was happening.
I stood there, frozen.
Nothing appeared for me.
No message.
No role.
No skill.
The air in front of me stayed empty, painfully so.
The screams grew louder as the monster moved again, knocking over a desk with terrifying ease, and in that moment, something cold settled deep inside my chest.
This world had chosen someone.
It had chosen a protagonist.
And it wasn’t me.
I took a step back without realizing it, my heart pounding as fear finally caught up to me, because no matter how many times I had cleared this game before, this wasn’t something I could retry, and I wasn’t protected by anything special.
I was just another person standing in a room that had become a battlefield.
“CHOI HAN!”
Someone shouted his name, and he flinched, looking even more confused as his gaze flickered between the monster and the glowing message only he seemed to receive.
I watched him, my thoughts racing.
If this followed the same rules as the game, then early mistakes were fatal.
Hesitation killed more people than monsters ever did.
I moved before thinking, grabbing the edge of a nearby desk and pulling it toward me, the sharp sound snapping a few people out of their panic as I shouted for them to move back, even though my voice came out rough and uneven.
“Don’t stand there!” I yelled. “Get away from the windows!”
They didn’t listen.
Most people never did.
The monster lunged.
Someone screamed.
And as chaos fully consumed the office, I realized something that made my chest tighten painfully.
I had wished for a continuation.
And the world had granted it.
Just not in the way I expected.
