New World
"Where... am I?"
An endless expanse of white filled the space in every direction. Nothing was visible no matter where he looked, and in that void, a man muttered to himself.
"I was definitely... on my way to school..."
The man, Kim Sung-tae, squeezed his eyes shut and racked his brain, trying to recall what had happened.
Then he remembered waking up that morning with a mix of excitement and anxiety.
"Right. Today was my first day of college classes. I got up, headed to the bus stop... I remember that much."
His hazy memories gradually sharpened, bringing the day's events back into focus.
Kim Sung-tae. Twenty years old. Just starting his new college life after enrolling—not too young, not too old. The long vacation had ended, and he was on his way to his first semester classes. He'd left home early just in case, but anxiety still drove him to sprint toward the bus stop. At a crosswalk, he'd waited for the signal, clicking his tongue at an elementary school kid nearby who tried to cross against the light.
And then...
"That's right! That kid!"
The child had bolted across anyway, ignoring the signal. Sung-tae had slammed on the brakes in panic but couldn't stop in time—a truck barreling toward them. The screech of tires had stunned the onlookers, stunning him too. He remembered instinctively dashing out without thinking to save the kid, but after that... nothing. Like a snapped film reel.
"No way... am I dead?"
Sung-tae pinched his cheek. The sharp sting confirmed it wasn't a dream. The pain was too vivid for death, and his mind was clear, not foggy like in sleep. This felt real.
So where the hell was he? He scanned for clues, but only endless white stretched out—no landmarks, nothing.
Curious about where you are?
"Gah!"
A deep, resonant voice reverberated through his entire body. It seemed to come from above, so Sung-tae looked up. Just more white—no sign of the speaker.
"What? Hallucination?"
Not a hallucination. I'm speaking to you right now.
"Wh-who are you?"
Tensing at the unidentified voice, Sung-tae demanded answers. It revealed itself without reacting to his wariness.
I am this world's Administrator. The one who brought you here after you altered fate unexpectedly.
"This world's Administrator... so you're a god?"
That's what they call me. But it's just a concept. Administrator suits my existence better.
A chill ran through Sung-tae, making him tremble. A god! It could be a lie, but the voice shook his soul, scattering doubts like dust.
"But... I altered fate?"
Yes. That child you threw yourself to save. They were fated to die there. But you saved them.
"Ah..."
Not a dream after all. So he was dead? Tears welled up from an inexplicable emotion boiling inside.
I'm really... dead...
Death was something he'd never deeply pondered. At twenty, it wasn't a weighty concern. And luckily, no one close had died—grandparents, parents, relatives all famously healthy. No exercise needed; their constitutions ensured long, illness-free lives. Even his grandparents, over ninety, jogged every morning. Sung-tae himself built solid muscles and balance with minimal effort. A family healthy as corpses otherwise—that was his bloodline.
Humans are so hasty. I didn't say you died. I said I brought you here.
"So I'm not dead?!"
Correct. You live.
Overjoyed, Sung-tae clenched his fist. Still alive! This must be some near-death afterlife vision. Hit by the truck after saving the kid, comatose in ICU. He'd wake up forgetting this, back to normal life. Joyful tears flowed.
Human imagination never ceases to amaze. You weren't hit by the truck or in ICU. I pulled you here the moment you saved the child.
"Huh? What does that mean?"
The child was fated to die. Saving them added an unexpected life to Earth. Someone had to vanish in their place.
"So... instead of the kid, I vanished from Earth..."
Exactly. Couldn't take the already-altered child. Fate-changers like you are no longer bound by destiny.
His fist went slack, hope draining away. Same as dead!
I said you're not dead.
"Vanishing means no return to Earth!"
True. But other dimensions are possible.
"Other dimensions!?"
Earth can't accommodate you anymore—would require deleting another, violating causality. So, another dimension it is.
What about that dimension's causality? The thought flashed, but excitement over the novel-like twist chased it away. Another dimension!
Sung-tae recalled high school self-study novels he'd devoured daily. Swordmasters, archmages, spirit summoners. Even without talent, spreading Earth knowledge made fortunes.
Don't delude yourself. Spreading Earth knowledge? You couldn't make a ballpoint pen. Not even a pencil.
"I-I could make pottery... learned as a kid..."
What must clay contain to fire into unbreakable pottery?
"Uh? Just fire it..."
See? You don't know. Your knowledge is useless beyond college entrance exams—or already known in your destination world.
"B-but..."
Expecting a fantasy novel world?
Caught off-guard by the mind-reading tone, Sung-tae shuddered. In those novels, protagonists were geniuses for grilling meat both sides or inventing chairs—"Amazing! No more muscle cramps at meals!" No such world?
"H-how'd you know?"
I'm the Administrator. You read them out of boredom, but think: medieval backdrop? They lacked the brains for tables or double-sided grilling?
"Probably not."
No convenient world worships you alone. Life isn't easy. Name your desired world—I'll send you to the closest match.
Desired world. Sung-tae racked his brains fiercer than exam day. Sword-ruled? No—talentless mediocrity likely. Magic world? Same issue. Talent decides all!
Wait. Talent? Ways to grow strong without it...
"I've decided. Send me to..."
Did such a dimension exist? Half-doubting, he chose.
"A dimension where my mere existence makes me the strongest?"
Hm?
"You know that manga? Bald guy one-punches foes—no pain from hits, one-punches the dimension's strongest. Like that..."
Hmm.
The voice pondered. Sung-tae waited tensely.
Exists. A new low-grade dimension. Earth is high-grade—dense, sturdy. Low-grade is immature, everything frail by comparison.
"What does that mean?"
Like a weak adult vs. kindergarteners—or newborn babies. Unwinnable for them. As you wished...
His body began fading.
Off you go.
The white void vanished into encroaching darkness, and Sung-tae's consciousness cut out.
＊＊＊
Sung-tae dreamed. Of being an invincible hero smashing foes. One punch turned enemies to dust; saintesses swooned, cute elves adventured with him, touring the world. Demon kings equal before his fist, villains humbled, dragons befriended for meals. Sweet dreams.
Awakening, he found himself in an unfamiliar place.
What? Where's this?
Just rousing, he gazed at the ash-shrouded dark sky. Warm winds caressed him—oddly. He reached to touch himself.
"Gah!"
His hand barely moved, unleashing a massive storm that ravaged the terrain. Still lying down, he realized his spot was black rock—now chunks soaring skyward in the gale.
And his "Gah!" spawned a vortex linked to his mouth. He clamped it shut fast.
[Thud]
Not rocks falling—his teeth clashing. Even that shook the air, destroying surroundings.
What the!? It said it'd make me strong...
Mere existence strongest? He waited out the storm, rising ultra-slowly, turtle-like.
[Crack]
"Wha...?"
Something crushed underfoot. Applying force, the black ground shattered like cookie; lava below lapped his bare foot.
Lava that melted rock, leaving no bones—yet to him, it was lukewarm bathwater.
"..."
His whisper whipped a storm ahead, sweeping the black plain. Lava danced skyward with rocks.
What!? What the hell!
Recalling: white void, fate talk, sent to desired dimension. Requested existence-strongest; low-grade affirmed, sleep.
Yeah. Strong. But...
Stepping again crushed earth.
Too strong!
Walking destroys land. Speaking summons storms. Too much! At least let him move freely!
And where is this!?
The Volcanic Zone—no life, just smoking volcanoes, flowing lava.
No life, so existence makes me strongest!?
He swore he heard, "Made you strongest, didn't say populated."
And his state? Why am I naked!?
Stark naked. No cloth. Outdoor nudity in volcanoes—Sung-tae tiptoed, scouting.
Thief-cautious, still crumbling ground.
Really empty?
Maybe just here. Find forest?
Super careful...
Still quaking. Quaking the zone, he spotted motion afar.
What's that?
A dog. Calf-sized, red fur, spiked collar gleaming threateningly. Unknown breed.
[Woof?]
Spotting him, dogs charged fiercely—not friendly.
[Grrrr!]
"Eek!"
Dogs leaped, red eyes and fangs terrifying. Panicking, Sung-tae curled defensively, arms up.
Storm again.
[Yelp!!]
Whirled skyward—four red stars against black sky, vanishing into smoky volcano like basketballs.
Damn. Move a bit fast, storm!
Deep breath? Storm. Quick twitch? Storm. Wish granted, but overkill.
At least... other life exists.
Red dogs with spiked collars—owned.
Who pastures dogs here? Owner?
Threatening dogs suggest unfriendly. Naked him? Worry.
Need clothes first.
How in barren volcanoes? Sneak owner's for garb?
Creeping, ground shook violently—he toppled. Hand down, earth split.
"Ugh!"
Bit tongue, swallowed voice. Staring eyes widened at rising earth.
G-golem!?
Novel/game staple: rock giant humanoid.
Intruder detected. Commencing attack.
Unfamiliar tongue, yet understood. But hostile.
"Heek!"
Golem struck suddenly; tiny whimper escaped—like lover's whisper.
Yet hurricane-force storm smashed it.
Intruder... extremely strong... attack immediately.
Half-wrecked golem oozed lava. Body heated, glowing orange like forge-steel. Fist raised—
I'm... strong? Let's see.
Intimidating, but bottom's best. Lava lukewarm; fist fatal? Nah.
Attack...
Not attacking—just raising fist.
Intr...
Tiny motion: storm dwarfed mouth-gales, air-slicing force atomized golem. Storm surged to dogs' volcano.
Rumble!
Uh...
Storm hit base—massive hole. Volcano quaked.
Crack!
Massive eruption. Volcano shattered, spewing millions of rocks and lava skyward.
"..."
Rock tsunami, ash storm engulfed him. Dazed by his handiwork, he stood unmoving.
What the...
No issue. Nothing touched him—bounced or shattered on contact. Ash storm, lava, boulders—all repelled.
This...
Buried in ash, breathing easy. Eyes stung with debris, yet steel-hard, painless.
In ash-lava tide, he roared:
"Too damn strong!"
Of course, the shout blasted away surrounding ash and lava.