A man stood over a mangled corpse, his form nothing more than a silhouette under a dim flickering streetlight. Blood pooled beneath his feet, gray and unassuming as the man ripped his arm out of the body it had somehow impaled, his neck twisting morbidly to stare at a nearby dumpster. There was a girl behind that dumpster, her hand clamped over her mouth tightly enough to scratch into the skin. A student, who clutched a blood-soaked bag to her chest, hoping that her books would protect her.

But the world didn't work like that, as much as it promised otherwise.

The girl would die, and she did.

Displayed on a compact screen cast a dull light onto one of the many faces in a jostling tram car, a lone man stood witness to that death. He watched as the grainy video warped and sputtered with static just as the dumpster crashed into the alley wall, crumpling up like a soda can.

In the soundless CCTV footage, the impact rang dull, and a life ended like a bug. All that was left of that life was a smear of blood, gray in the black expanse of a grainy void, unclear to even the trained eye if it did strain to make sense of it all. As the dark mass of a monster hobbled out of frame to chase its next meal, its elongated arms dragging along the concrete, a fog-like substance writhed under the scrap metal it left behind.

The man blinked, adjusting the glasses that slid down his nose, the glare of the sunset and its vivid colors making it hard for him to make out what he saw. What he thought he saw was a foggy screen, solidifying to hover over the dead, announcing simple yet unintelligible words.

[The White Rabbit found you, Alice.]

Park Hajoon's eyebrows furrowed, replaying that moment several times over. He didn't think the monster resembled a rabbit at all. A deformed mole rat would be a better description, although he had never seen one.

These adverts are starting to get too realistic. What's this rabbit from anyway? The name sounds Novian...so a Novian story?

His thumb paused on his phone screen as a pair of eavesdropping eyes were caught reflected on its surface. There was no malicious intent in those eyes, it wasn't as if she would suddenly snap her head like an owl and attack him, but he felt on edge anyway.

"Is it a movie?" She asked, unbothered by the general rudeness of staring at a stranger's phone. "I haven't seen one like this, the marketing is interesting."

The neat appearance of a typical office worker, clashing with a face that would fit better staring in a melodrama-- calling Lee Hyejin a monster would be a contradiction.

"It's just a video on Vtube." Hajoon explained with a smile, hoping that it was enough to end her curiosity as he looked back down at his phone. Unsurprisingly, the video was gone, purged between the seconds he had taken to humor his nosy co-worker.

From what He could salvage, the video was posted a few weeks ago by an account that had been banned along with the video, leaving no particular name or picture to trace the source back to. Which meant that this video held no credible value in realistic or legal terms.

Therefore, Hajoon had no reason to think further on the topic.

"Ah..." The ignored Lee Hyejin tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, glancing at him before looking away, the awkwardness building as he didn't make any effort to speak again.

"It looked generic, I don't think it'll be in theaters Ms. Lee" The man who sat to the right of Hajoon rekindled the dying conversation, making his facial muscles strain in an effort not to frown.

"Well, you can't judge a film by just one clip. Maybe it's promotional material for a new project?" Lee Hyejin seemed excited, her almond eyes lighting up like a seagull who'd found an opening to steal a poor man's lunch from under his nose. People like her were dying to speak on their interests, and they latched on insistently when they found a chance to do so. He supposed that at least she didn't snatch his lunch like a seagull would.

Nevertheless, this train of thought made Hajoon hungry, his mind drifting to the meal that awaited him if he just made it to his delivery shift on time.

I wonder if the boss has any meat left, I need some protein to get through the next week without kicking the bucket.

As much as he dreamed of living like a chaebol, his unfortunate life as a full time salaryman hinged on extra work dedicated to a beat up restaurant in the riot banks; and as tired as he was, he couldn't find it in himself to complain. To him, good food was good food, made extra delicious by the potential of it being free or discounted.

Hajoon's reverie was disturbed by an elbow to his side, a bump in the road forcing him to acknowledge the outlier in this everyday scene of wage-slaves making their way home as the sun drowned at sea. This imposter was, of course, Takahashi Sadou, the acting manager of the publicity department of GenCure pharmaceuticals.

Hajoon let out a hiss of breath, knowing that he shouldn't expect an apology for a simple jab when no words were issued about the mountain loads of work Takahashi had dumped on him just last week.

"Who would promote something that cheap?" Was Takahashi's next words, confusing Hajoon who hadn't been following their conversation.

Was it a curse, being sandwiched between your coworkers during the evening rush?

Hajoon simply laughed at himself, lamenting the day that he had offered the advice of taking tram 42 as an alternative to the recent railway and road closures. But realistically, ignoring the plight of his nepo-baby manager would have been idiotic if he wanted to keep his job.

"It seems like a clever use of budget in my opinion. Striking but simple, a good ideology to encompass in a proposal, right?" Lee Hyejin smiled, her words being a jab at the complaint Takahashi had made about her work this morning.

"Tch, this and that are two separate things. I can tell when something is a waste of my money"

"It won't be a waste if you get to see something interesting, right Mr. Park?"

Hajoon blinked dumbly, not expecting to have to participate in this dead-end conversation. "Ah, I guess that's true? But if the worry is about money, then there's always ways to watch for free."

"Free? How would you..?" He watched her squint in genuine confusion, finding it funny that someone who was one year his junior had a life so drastically different from his.

"Pirating."

Takahashi made a sound as if he was choking down a laugh, a truly elegant recovery from the sin of being rude on a public tram. "You know that's considered illegal, Mr. Park?"

"Haha...yeah. That is the case isn't it?"

"It's better to support the crew and cast behind a good film right? Show that we appreciate their work?"

Hajoon smiled, his eyes looking past the self righteous Lee Hyejin at the people packed into the tram like sardines. Normally it wasn't so crowded, but things had been less than ideal for the past few weeks in concerns to living life by the defined norm. A person like Lee Hyejin may not have noticed, but the number of patrol units in the 'undesirable' civilian areas had increased recently.

He personally knew a handful of families that ordered less food than before, the favorite meals of their loved one missing from the deliveries he ran. It could mean more than a few things, but in the riot banks, the truth was ugly.

That didn't necessarily explain why ward four was closed off for the foreseeable future, but most passengers of the train that cut through that ward was forced to find an alternative route rather than question the methods of the Mainland Security Division– even if it meant charting a route through the undesirables.

Anyways, this tram really is slower than a slug Hajoon noted as he watched traffic inch past, various old world vehicles sputtering across the crossing that kept the rail bound tram at a standstill. The brown dust of exhaust billowed into the air, trapped within the crowded buildings as its inhabitants breathed in the lead and sulfuric replacement for coal.

As the tram sputtered to a start, pulling its way into the claustrophobia of the Riot Banks, the dull light of the sunset filtered in through the overwhelmed canopy of wires, painting the inside of the bus in a cobweb of red and gold while the sun took its last breaths.

"It's taking a long time..." Lee Hyejin muttered, an action that started a domino effect as the hushed chatter around her turned into a swarm of complaints from young and old alike.

Hajoon found it bothersome, how they latched onto an opportunity so quickly.

"It's always like this these days, no respect for an elder's time..! I won't even get home by midnight you know, It's outrageous!"

"Why don't they fix the train routes? I don't want to get mugged going through this place everyday..."

"Don't bother expecting that..! They've got bigger things to deal with, did you hear that another Novian ship got attacked?"

"They should open Saebyeok station already, it's been weeks...whatever the issue was should have been solved already right?"

It was clear enough that the majority did not live here, otherwise they would have more pressing issues to complain about.

"I heard they're ramping up security for all the neighboring wards, is that right Mr. Park? You don't think it's mutiny in Saebyeok, do you? The riot banks do start there, you could expect as much..." There was condescension in the grayness of Takahashi's eyes even as he feigned worry, his voice raised just enough for the nosy ears to catch on.

"...Haha, isn't that just an assumption? The Riot Banks aren't any different, we're all law abiding citize-...people"

Hajoon had to catch himself, because the truth was that many of those who lived by the banks of the Nakdong River weren't citizens at all. Whether a person was born there or not, it didn't matter, because the simple act of existing in the Riot Banks was enough to make you a second class citizen.

There were rules to life for such people, people without power, and Hajoon found life easier when he followed them. That was the reasoning he gave himself whenever he kept silent, just to lessen the blow on his conscience. 

"Right, of course," Takahashi nodded in an exaggerated fashion. "But you can't argue the statistics, all I'm saying is that there's a high likelihood of...well..."

As his words trailed off, the waves of conspiracy around them shifted to a blame game that Hajoon found no worth in listening to.

"The Health Ministry declared it as a code five quarantine." Lee Hyejin suddenly spoke, catching both him and the smug bastard off guard.

"Eh? What do you mean..?"

"Look. They just made the interview public." She pushed her phone in front of Takahashi's face, only lowering it for all three of them to see once he dropped his smug smile.

Sure enough, she was right. What Hajoon saw on her screen was a televised declaration of quarantine for Saebyeok, ward 4, which had been inexplicably closed for closer to a month. But what gave him pause was the continuation of that announcement.

"Due to the potential spread of this virus, measures will be taken to halt movement in and out of all surrounding wards. This protocol is effective immediately, any and all citizens are expected to follow quarantine protocol and remain calm. Once again, as the head of the Health Ministry, I want to press that there is no need for panic. The Hunters Association is handling procedures as usual...they really do leave no work for us! "

The fossil of a politician ended the message just like that, his forced laugh slipping to show his true feelings as the camera cut. It was a look of annoyance, which was to be expected.

As powerful as the Hunters were, they couldn't escape jealousy.

But then who's fault is it that they have more power than the national military?

Suffer your own consequences damn it. Why is it always us? If it's a virus, send doctors..! Bastards...

Hajoon couldn't help the wince of a smile on his face, at a loss for words as panic caught on around him like a wildfire. Eventually, the confused mutterings became pleas for the driver to turn right back around to the safety of the inner wards, but the man of the hour didn't listen, the scrambling fools getting not even a glance back.

There was never reason to what happens in a quarantine zone, even the balding old men signing off on it couldn't explain if pressed for more than a surface level statement. But no one dared to press for those answers. Why would they? It was illegal after all.

Just like pirating a movie.

Hajoon laughed, his eyes taking on an oddly calm light as he met the puzzled eyes of Lee Hyejin. After a moment, she laughed as well, an odd moment of comradery between two people who felt the end of their lives before it came to pass.

That moment ended with a violent jerk as the tram car came to a screeching stop, sending the unprepared masses flying to the floor.

Lee Hyejin and Takahashi Sadou included.

Hajoon, who had gripped his seat at exactly that moment, fell back into his seat with a grunt. He could feel the thickness of the air change, as if an oppressive substance was drowning his lungs. It made his breath stutter as he covered his mouth to cough into as he stood up to help the fallen strangers.

"...What happened?" Lee Hyejin staggered upright with his help, moving immediately to help an older woman who was struggling to get up.

"That felt like the emergency brakes...Hopefully we didn't crash?" Hajoon said, patting Takahashi on the shoulder as he brushed himself off. The man seemed fine, although he bet that his ego was bruised at the least.

"So we broke down? Hah...you're kidding me!"

Hajoon ignored the exasperated Takahashi as the tang of rust and sparks hit his nose, his eyes focusing on the billowing smoke outside of the window next to him. His palm pressed against the fogged glass as his breath swirled like fog in the dropping temperatures of the tram car.

Tired brown eyes stared back, attached to a face that didn't copy his expression as it should have. A wide grin spread across the face of that reflection until he wiped it away, his fingertips feeling a sharp cold as he peered through at the street outside.

It was deserted, the blocky streetways left abandoned without sign of struggle, save for the usual broken bottle or two–but Hajoon knew the cause of that. Even with a quarantine announcement, no one could react this quickly, no one in the riot banks would react this quickly.

Where is everyone..?

His thoughts were interrupted as the window fogged over, his peering hole closing in front of his face. Just before the fog became frost, Hajoon caught a glimpse of movement down the main street, a large mass coming into view before fading behind a building.

"Hey, you! Driver..!"

He took a step back from the window, and looked at the front of the tram, where Takahashi was berating the driver amidst a crowd of gawkers.

"Do they pay ya to nap there huh?" This time it wasn't the insufferable manager, but instead a bottle blond that was poking the apparently sleeping driver with a used chopstick. The wannabe gangster had been digging away at a ramen cup just before, the evidence of that now scattered across the floor in a puddle of mush that Hajoon did his best to avoid stepping in. It was a waste of food, but his sort didn't exactly care enough about public transportation etiquette to prevent that tragedy.

"Get up. And apologize hm? Please? You ruined my dinner, ya see?" He suddenly grabbed the driver by the collar, pushing his face in the direction of the sad dinner seeping into the floor.

"Look! Look at what you did! Now say sorry...before I get mad alright?" The man continued to berate the lethargic body of the driver, unaware of the reason why a girl in the front row shrieked.

Perhaps it was the blood, pouring out of every orifice on the poor man's face. The red liquid painted the floor and the blonde's shoes in a red splatter that had the man staring down for a long while.

"Let go of him..." Takahashi placed a hand on his shoulder as if they were long time friends, an assumption that held no ground except for their supposed team-up in berating the half dead driver. "He needs a doctor, just look at him."

The people gathered around the scene shuffled awkwardly, a crowd of cowards watching a man bleed out in front of their eyes without a word to say in response.

"What's happened to him?" Lee Hyejin muttered, standing beside Hajoon who didn't particularly have an answer for her.

"Maybe it's a nosebleed?" He mused as he moved closer to the action, taking in the stains of red that spread across the driver's nook, along with the physical damage to the front that had dented the windshield. The cause of the collision was impossible to see, as the frost had spread to cover every shred of glass on this old hunk of metal.

"Noseblee- How does this look like a nosebleed to you??"

"It could be a symptom of overwork? I get them pretty often..." Hajoon glanced at the exasperated Takahashi, then back at the bleeding man. He seemed to be middle aged, not particularly healthy either, considering the potbelly. Hajoon should have known more about this driver, who had been in charge of this tram for as long as he's lived down here, but he didn't.

This old man must get chump change, working himself to death just to get by...

"Maybe you should go see a doctor, Mr. Park."

"Ah, maybe."

"Hey...! I'm telling everyone here, "It wasn't me alright?" The blonde man plopped the driver back into his bloodied seat, his eyes scanning across the nervous passengers as if to dare them to think otherwise. "Ya can't pin this on me. Got it? I didn't hit him or nothing!"

"Well who was it then??" The older woman that stuck by Lee Hyejin spoke up, the panic of the situation making her forget the first rule to survival in this world, especially the Riot Banks.

Never bark if you don't have the bite to back it up. Especially at a rabid dog that was waiting for an excuse to bite.

"You're asking me that? Huh?! It's his damn fault for crashing this rust bucket!" The wannabe thug turned his glare on her, and the woman shrunk back instinctively.

"But he's...just look at that..! That doesn't look like a crash injury to me!" A gaping bystander piped up, shivering from either the cold or pure cowardice. Hajoon himself felt it, having to stuff his hands into his coat pockets just to stave off the biting cold.

Did no one else find this odd? Or were they just too preoccupied to notice?

"What is it then..? Are ya saying I did that?!"

As the blonde thug grabbed that man's collar, Hajoon slipped through the crowd to the tram door, the rigid exit that seemed to have jammed shut with the collision. Without electricity, it likely would not open, but Hajoon tried anyway, slipping his fingers into the slight indent between the two parted door.

He huffed as he strained to pry it open, but his fingers skid from the grip.

"Ack..." Hajoon stared down at his scratched fingers, the tips of which were becoming numb from the cold. He found it hard to breathe, his vision fading at the corners.

I need to get out.

"No..! I'm not saying that b-but...you were rough with him and...if it's not you then...!" The coward fumbled over his words in the background, the blame game continuing as Hajoon gave a tight lipped smile to the few who had taken to stare at his failed attempt.

He stepped away from the door, taking to a seat nearby. He didn't like attention, and the heat of embarrassment warmed his face despite the cold.

I'm overreacting...don't be weird, Joon. No one else feels this, it's just you, so suck it up.

Someone shrieked as a punch was thrown, the claustrophobia of this space making such a scene the expected conclusion. Hajoon could see his coworkers step away from the scene, unwilling to interfere as the poor man was used as a punching bag.

The impact of fist against flesh made his head ache as he watched, his glasses fogging in the unbearable cold.

It felt strange, it was painful.

It hurt, to breathe. But he couldn't stop, not as his eyes darted to movement behind the violent actions of the thug. The driver's lifeless body, it moved, jerking unnaturally as limbs snapped into place, his face a mess of blood and spasming muscles.

For a long moment, there was silence in the tram car, all movement stopping to stare at the man like cornered mice.

In front of each of those gaping faces, a screen of sorts formed from their own crystalized breath. Hajoon stared at his own projection of mist and words, breaking the silence with a laugh that would have marked the end of him if reality was anything like the video this all reminded him of.

『 Conditions for constructing B-Rank Dungeon Unnamed

Monster count: 76/100 』

Those damning words, they didn't fade even as his hand pushed through the screen. He grabbed at the swirling fog, but it simply reformed again, and again.

『Conditions for constructing B-Rank Dungeon Unnamed

Monster count: 77/100 』A flash of red caught his attention as something splattered onto his shirt, his hand going to clutch at the source.

A nose bleed.

Did I not drink enough coffee today..?

『 Conditions for constructing B-Rank Dungeon Unnamed

Monster count: 80/100 』