In a bustling train station, countless people existed in their own little worlds.
Some were returning from glorious nine-to-five jobs.
Others simply minded their own business, faces blank, eyes tired.
From a far corner of the seats came a man dressed entirely in black.
At first glance, you'd think he was a terrorist—or some kind of shady criminal.
…Nope.
Just a classic case of edgy fifth-grader syndrome. A full-blown chuunibyou.
Or maybe just a normal guy who suddenly felt like wearing black.
"Ugh… I hate my thoughts sometimes."
Yeah.
That was me.
Before I could spiral any further, the shrill sound of an approaching train cut through the air.
I stepped inside and took a seat near one of the exits, slouching back as my body finally relaxed. The day's stress melted into the seat.
At this point, I should just go back to the military, I thought.
At least there I actually use my whole body instead of standing around waiting for customers all day.
I pulled out my phone and started some late-night doom scrolling.
For a moment, the dark screen reflected my face.
Heavy eyelids. Dark circles. Exhaustion written all over me.
Well… that was expected.
I hadn't slept at all—pulled an all-nighter just to finish my work.
Oh well. This was life. You adapt or you break.
I shrugged it off as my vision slowly blurred.
A wave of sleep washed over me.
" I guess a five-minute nap wouldn't hurt… right? "
That was my last thought before darkness took me.
____________________
"Wake up."
A low whisper brushed against my ear.
Soft.
Too soft to be a man's voice, too gentle to be a child's.
If I had to guess… A goddess.
"Wake up, sleepy head…"
My eyes snapped open.
Cold sweat drenched my body. Did I run a marathon or something?
I checked myself—arms, legs, chest.
Everything felt… normal.
My breathing was steady. My pulse wasn't racing.
Then I looked up.
And froze.
People were fighting
.
From one end of the carriage to the other, chaos reigned.
Some strangled each other with bare hands.
Others brandished knives, screaming as they slashed wildly.
Blood stained the floor.
"What… the fuck is happening?"
I scrambled out of my seat just as someone lunged toward where I'd been sitting.
"Hey! Are you out of your damn mind? Why'd you do that, old man?!"
I tried to reason with him. The only response I got was a hoarse mutter:
"Just… die already."
His grip on the knife tightened, knuckles turning white.
"We can talk about this, you know!"
He didn't listen.
He charged.
My thoughts exploded.
What happened?
Did the world end?
Is this some kind of apocalypse?!
The knife came closer—so close I could feel the cold air brushing my jacket.
Then—
Time slowed.
Something stirred in my right hand.
No—called to me.
As if responding to instinct, my fingers curled as though gripping something invisible.
Light erupted.
Dark purple energy formed in my hand, stretching outward, solidifying—
I swung.
The man's upper body split cleanly in two.
Blood sprayed everywhere.
I gasped, lungs burning as I sucked in air. Warm droplets splattered across my face and clothes. His body collapsed at my feet.
Yet…
My hands weren't shaking.
My vision didn't blur.
It felt… normal.
Why am I not shocked?
Is this who I really am?
My gaze drifted to the blood pooling around my shoes.
I wasn't a psychopath. No. No, no, no.
I hated gore. Always had. Even thinking about blood used to make my spine shiver.
And yet—
My thoughts halted as I finally looked at what I was holding.
A scythe..Long-bladed. Otherworldly.
It wasn't metal. It wasn't cloth.
The handle was pitch black, fractured with glowing purple cracks. The blade shared the same eerie hue, as if the weapon itself were alive.
"Woah…"
That was all I could say.
A grin slowly spread across my face. " This is so cool! "
I inspected it from every angle, my earlier panic melting away.
I mean—was this even my fault?
The guy tried to kill me first.
An eye for an eye, right?
My thoughts snapped back as translucent text appeared in front of me.
[ You have killed a living being. ]
[ 100 coins acquired. ]
"What the hell is happening…?"
I glanced around. People were still fighting. Others huddled in corners, trembling.
Then it hit me.
People killing each other — check.
Apocalyptic chaos — check.
Me holding a badass weapon — check.
"…Am I the protagonist?"
A laugh escaped my mouth.
"That's stupid. If I were the main character, wouldn't there be some damsel begging for help right now?"
"And isn't every isekai protagonist supposed to have a harem?"
I snorted.
"With my looks, I'd be lucky if a girl even glanced at me."
My muttering drew stares.
Everyone froze, clearly more unsettled by me than the bloodshed. My giggling didn't help.
[ 5 minutes remaining. ]
I slapped my own face.
Focus.
From what I could tell—
While I was asleep, the world had turned into some game-like apocalypse.
A system. Scenarios. Fantasy nonsense.
And apparently—
[ The Main Scenario Has Begun ]
[ Proof of Value:
Kill one or more living beings ]
Type: Main
Difficulty: F
Time Limit: 30 minutes
Reward: 300 coins
Failure: Death ]
I nodded slowly.
"So… I'm overpowered, armed with a dark edgy weapon, and stuck in manwha."
I smirked.
"I'm such a genius."
I'm basically Einstein.
From what I could tell, I was definitely inside Omniscient Reader's Viewpoint.
I didn't need further confirmation. The evidence was everywhere—the translucent panel floating in the air, the suffocating tension inside the carriage, the language spoken by everyone around me.
Korean.
That alone narrowed it down to two possibilities.
Either I was a Korean citizen suffering from complete memory loss…
Or I had been reincarnated into another world.
I leaned back slightly and glanced at the digital clock hovering beside my vision.
[ 2 minutes remaining ]
Two minutes.
Enough time to hesitate.
Enough time to act.
People around me were already breaking—sobbing, screaming, some clawing at their own throats in desperation. Others stared blankly ahead, frozen by fear.
If everyone was going to die anyway…
Then why shouldn't I benefit?
Coins were power. Power was survival. And morality—morality was a luxury that died first in this world.
My grip tightened around the scythe.
Could I really do this?
The answer came faster than expected.
This is fiction, I told myself.
And fiction doesn't care about excuses.
If there was a passive skill dulling my emotions, then good. That only made things easier.
I raised the blade closer to my face, a slow smile stretching across my lips.
"Then let's begin."
The moment snapped.
What followed wasn't a fight—it was slaughter.
Blood sprayed across the carriage walls. Screams echoed until they were cut short one by one. Bodies collapsed before they even understood what was happening.
I didn't stop.
Didn't hesitate.
Didn't look back.
"Please—please don't kill me! I'll do anything!"
A woman fell to her knees, hands shaking as she begged.
I swung.
Her body slumped to the floor before her words could finish forming. I muttered a quiet prayer—not out of mercy, but habit.
I wasn't a psychopath.
I just did what needed to be done.
When it finally ended, the carriage was silent.
Too silent.
Only one presence remained besides me.
A woman stood across the blood-soaked floor, her blade lowered but not dropped. She was breathing hard, hands trembling—not from fear, but exhaustion.
She had killed too.
That much was obvious.
For a brief moment, neither of us moved.
"Well," I said, breaking the silence, "looks like it's just the two of us."
"Shut up," she snapped. "I know how this ends. If you're going to kill me, then do it."
I raised my scythe.
She raised her weapon.
And then—
[ You have completed Main Scenario #1: Proof of Value! ]
[ Number of survivors in Carriage 3907: 2 ]
[ Survivors: Kim Do-yeon, Lee Eun-ah ]
[ Rewards are being distributed. ]
The tension snapped like a severed wire.
"…Huh."
I exhaled slowly, lowering my weapon as the adrenaline drained from my body.
"Guess that's that."
I tried to dismiss the scythe.
" Get the fuck out of my hands! "
Nothing happened.
"Disappear."
Still nothing.
"Cancel summoning."
This time, the weapon dissolved into light, vanishing from my grasp.
The emptiness that followed felt… wrong.
Uncomfortable.
I stared at my now-empty hands.
Although I had only held it for a short time, the scythe had already become something more than a weapon.
It had been my companion.