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Prologue - Three ways to survive the apocalypse

「 There are three ways to survive the apocalypse. I have forgotten some of them now. However, one thing is certain, you who are currently reading these words will survive. 」

That sentence has lingered in my head for as long as I can remember. Not like a memory, not like a dream — more like a wound that never healed properly, throbbing under the surface. I don't know who wrote it. I don't know when I first saw it. By now it's just a splinter stuck in my mind, dulled by repetition. I don't know what it means anymore. I don't care. Why should I?

What I do care about is the exact moment the world ends.

It's not far off now. I can feel it. Like a pressure behind the eyes. Like a countdown ticking louder with every breath. I know what's going to happen. The way blood will pool between the cracks in the floor. I've lived this moment before. And no matter how many times I return to this point, it never changes. The train. The people.

______________________________________

Yoo Joonghyuk was reading the article of a portal site on a person's phone next to him. Just like the previous rounds.

He already knew what the article was about. Yet, he still looks at it.

– Pro gamer Yoo Joonghyuk, for how long will he stay under the radar?

Several private matters that other people didn't know, such as discord between the teammates and the tyranny caused by the director's highhandedness, brushed past his mind. However, they were stories from years ago, and he couldn't think of an answer no matter how hard he thought about them.

– We found their home address.

That text message appeared on his smartphone. It was from the detective agency he hired, letting him know that his parents had been located. This was the reason why he decided to step outside the house for the first time in a while.

Yoo Joonghyuk wished to know about his origins. To find out who gave birth to him, and who had abandoned him. To find out who left behind a little sister in his care when he was on a fast track to success. Yoo Joonghyuk oh-so-desperately wanted to find out.

– Huh? Did people like that live here before?

– Eh-iiing, I don't know, either. It's been too long.

Even though he spent a considerable sum to hire the detective agency, the only thing he got in return was an address of an empty house. The agency told him that there was nothing more they could find out. His parents were gone without a trace, as if they had evaporated from this world. How could such a thing happen, though?

28-year old Yoo Joonghyuk seemed to exist all alone, without being able to recall a single memory concerning his parents, or anything nostalgic from his childhood. As if he was a being crafted to be an adult from the moment he was born.

______________________________________

I am Yoo Joonghyuk. A regressor.

That means nothing to the people around me. They see a man in a worn coat, unmoving, eyes focused somewhere too far away.

The train I'm on — Train No. 3434, subway line 3, car number 3707 — hums quietly as it glides along the rail. People are standing shoulder to shoulder. The seats are all taken.

To my left, an office worker adjusts his tie for the fifth time in a minute, eyes twitching as he reads an email on his phone. His hands are shaking, but he doesn't even notice.

"Excuse me," a soft voice says.

I glance up. A woman — mid-thirties, beige coat, hair tied in a low bun — gestures toward the seat beside me.

"Is this seat taken?"

I shake my head. She sits, smiling faintly, and pulls out her phone. Her screen is filled with reminders. Meetings. Grocery lists. A bold red note at the bottom reads:

-Don't forget to buy Minho's cake.

She won't make it home. It's the same as the previous rounds.

The train jerks slightly as it takes a curve. Someone stumbles, mutters an apology. Another person laughs. The world keeps moving like it always does, unaware of the moment it'll break.

______________________________________

I slowly scanned the surroundings and spotted a man acting suspiciously by the exit.

"Heuh, heuh-euh…"

Several people shifted their gazes over to the man after hearing his intermittent grunts. The man carrying a twisted expression sniggered and looked around himself, then suddenly, pulled out a home-made bomb and a lighter.

On that day when the paywall began, there was a certain man riding on the same subway car no. 3707 as Yoo Joonghyuk.

"…What's that?"

"H-hey, man!"

The subway terrorist, Choi Han-Gyu.

The shocked crowd screamed and retreated. People freaked out after witnessing the sparks exploding from the man's hands and stood up from their seats, causing the scene to turn chaotic.

As for Yoo Joonghyuk, he was quietly staring at that man before planning to do something.

"Heuh-euh…! You people are the trouble. You—all of you—laughing, talking, looking past me like I'm f-f-fog on a window. You think I'm just a… crazy cripple? H-heuh."

"Uwaaaaah!"

"Anyone, Stop Him!"

The flames lit up by the terrorist brightly illuminated the passenger's

faces, their eyes trembling in pure fear. He stood there, waiting for the right moment to arrive.

And when the time comes, He will go through hell once more.

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