They ran desperately through the winding alleyways of Itaewon, a place once filled with joy, laughter, and the energy of youth. Just yesterday, the streets had been alive-bright lights, lively music, and the chatter of carefree souls. But today, it was a nightmare.
The air was thick with the stench of death, and the ground was littered with mangled bodies, their lifeless eyes staring into nothingness. Distant, guttural sounds echoed through the ruins, a chilling reminder that they were being hunted.
Suddenly, Hye-won came to an abrupt halt, her hand shooting up to stop the others. Her face was pale, her voice trembling. "We can't go any further."
Young-jae, panting heavily, looked at her in frustration. "Why? We're almost at the Hannam-dong community space!"
Her trembling hands clenched into fists as she shook her head. "No," she said, her voice cracking.
"The B-rank monsters... They're tracking us.They're faster than we thought." She paused, her eyes suddenly filling with terror. "They're here."
The words barely left her lips when a low growl reverberated through the air, freezing them in place.
[Warning!] [Warning!]
Their status screens flashed a bright, ominous red, blaring alarms in unison. The mechanical voice echoed in their minds:
[Danger detected. Hostile entities approaching. Prepare for combat.]
And then, they heard it—a deep, guttural growl that seemed to come from every direction at once.
From the shadows, they emerged: the Ash Creepers.
The creatures were monstrous, towering spider-like abominations, their grotesque forms blackened as if scorched by fire. Each of their eight limbs was elongated and razor-sharp, moving with unnerving precision. Their bodies seemed to pulse with a malevolent energy, ash and embers falling like snow from their cracked, smoldering exoskeletons. Smoke trailed from their charred forms, filling the air with the acrid smell of burning flesh.
Their faces were a nightmare given form. Huge, lidless eyes glowed a malevolent red, locking onto their prey with unyielding hunger. Below their eyes, their jagged mouths split open into writhing tendrils, dripping with a dark, tar-like substance that hissed when it hit the ground.
As the Ash Creepers surrounded them, the sound of their movement—a sickening chorus of clicking limbs and scraping claws—filled the alleyway. The temperature dropped despite the creatures' fiery appearance, an oppressive chill that seeped into their bones.
Rose took a steadying breath and turned to Sung-min. "Let me down," she said firmly.Sung-min set her on the ground, and she reached for a glowing card, its edges radiating faint energy. Her hand trembled slightly, but her resolve was unwavering.
Park Hyun-woo stepped forward, his face pale but resolute. "Be ready, everyone!" he barked, the urgency in his voice leaving no room for doubt. "Right now, we kill or be killed!
The Ash Creepers lunged. Time seemed to slow as the group braced themselves, fear and determination colliding in their hearts.
At that moment, the chaotic symphony of the night - the frantic scrabbling of the Ash Creepers, the panicked gasps of the humans, the stench of decay and blood - was shattered by a sound utterly unlike any other. It wasn't ordinary. This was something else entirely - haunting, ethereal, like a melody plucked from a dream.
It was both terrifying and beautiful, this music, weaving through the air like the whispers of the damned. Its notes, sharp and poignant, seemed to tear at the very fabric of reality. Time itself seemed to stutter, the chaos around them freezing as if the universe had collectively gasped.
Rose, her breath catching in her throat, looked up. On the second-floor balcony of a shadowed building, she saw her. A girl, a silhouette against the pale moonlight, playing a flute. The instrument, dark and elegant, was carved from aged bamboo, its surface etched with intricate golden patterns that shimmered with an eerie luminescence.
The music it produced was otherworldly, a symphony of despair and hope, of fear and courage, all intertwined. It wasn't just a sound; it was an assault on the senses, a raw, emotional experience that resonated deep within their souls. The haunting melody cut through the night, a lifeline in the storm of chaos.
The Ash Creepers, those grotesque abominations, faltered. Their movements, once fluid and predatory, became stilted, their growls reduced to whimpers. It was as if the music had seized their minds, their very essence, leaving them paralyzed by some unseen force.
"What... what's happening?" hye-won gasped, his voice hoarse with fear.
"It's the flute," Rose whispered, her eyes glued to the figure on the balcony. "It's... controlling them."
Before they could fully comprehend the situation,
the heavy door to the building creaked open,
shattering the unnatural silence. Figures emerged from the shadows, their faces pale and drawn, their eyes reflecting the fear that permeated the night.
"Quickly, inside!" one hissed, urgency lacing their voice.
Hesitation warred with the instinct for self-preservation. Then, with a surge of adrenaline, they sprinted towards the building, their footsteps echoing in the sudden stillness. The haunting melody continued to play, a chilling counterpoint to the pounding of their own hearts.
The door slammed shut behind them, plunging them into suffocating darkness. The air inside was thick with the stench of fear and the lingering scent of blood. They were safe, for now, hidden from the gaze of the monstrous creatures outside. But the melody, that eerie, haunting melody, still lingered, a haunting reminder of the unknown forces at play.
They stood in the suffocating darkness, their breaths shallow, their nerves stretched thin. The air was heavy, the silence broken only by faint whispers and the shuffling of unseen figures.
Hye-won's voice broke through the stillness, low and urgent. "There are more than a hundred people here."
Rose's eyes narrowed as she noticed a shadow moving toward them, its steps deliberate and measured. Her mind drifted back to the last time she had used her card. The images had burned themselves into her memory—three chilling visions.
The Mimic, with its deceptive guise.
The Ash Creeper, a relentless predator.
And the warriors who hunted their own, turning others into bait for their twisted survival.
Her heart tightened at the thought, but her focus sharpened as Park Hyun-woo stepped forward, his voice steady yet demanding. "You didn't save us out of the kindness of your heart. What's your motive?"
A beam of light pierced the darkness as a man turned on a torch, its harsh glow revealing his features. Rose's gaze fell on him, and a wave of unease washed over her. His face was striking, though weathered, with defined cheekbones and a strong jawline. His hair, dark and slightly unkempt, fell just above his eyebrows, adding to his rugged charm. He wore an ill-fitted pair of pants and a coat that seemed too large for him, yet his presence still carried an air of authority. His smile, though, was disarming—a twist of his lips that held no warmth, as if it were a mask hiding something darker.
"You're sharp," the man said, his tone laced with amusement. "Smarter than most. Teaming up might just be the best choice for both of us."
His smile widened as he continued, his tone darkening. "In a single day, so many have fallen. The streets are littered with corpses, and even the president himself is dead. There's no cavalry coming, no savior on the horizon. So I ask you—where will you find food? Shelter? Hope? There's no way to survive out there."
His words hung in the air like a noose, tightening around them. Sung-min, his face somber, broke the silence. "What's your solution then?"
The man's smile deepened, his eyes gleaming with a twisted resolve. "We can't fight the A and B-rank creatures, or even the C and D-rank monsters—not yet. They'll tear us apart. But the E and F-rank monsters? Those we can take on. One by one, we'll level up and grow stronger. That's the only way."
He took a step closer, his voice growing more intense, like a preacher delivering a grim sermon. "Every warrior has a flaw, a fear. We don't know how to control our powers, not truly. But if we can master the core of our abilities, if we can conquer the chaos within, then—and only then—can we hope to face the higher ranks. Survive long enough to fight back. That's the only way forward."
Rose's gaze was steady, her thoughts a storm beneath her calm exterior. I already know this, she thought. Even if he's not our ally, his words are the truth. In this world, survival isn't about trust—it's about necessity.
She stepped forward, her movements deliberate, cutting through the tense silence like a blade. Her expression was cold, unreadable, as if carved from stone.
"Then let's team up," she said, her voice devoid of emotion, yet carrying the weight of her resolve.
The room fell silent, the air heavy with unspoken tension. The man with the torch smiled, though it wasn't warm—it was sharp, calculating, as if he had expected this.
Park Hyun-woo frowned, his fists clenching at his sides. "mu-rea—" he began, but she cut him off with a glance, her eyes icy and unyielding.
"We don't have the luxury of trust," Rose said flatly, her gaze sweeping over the group. "But we also don't have the luxury of choice. If this is the only way to survive, then we take it. Together."
Her words were both a command and a declaration, leaving no room for argument. She turned to the man, meeting his calculating gaze head-on.
"We'll fight. We'll survive. But make no mistake—if you betray us, if you so much as think about using us as bait, I'll end you before the monsters ever get the chance."
The man chuckled, a low, rasping sound. "Fair enough,"