Waiting Room (2)
The group of students huddled together in one corner of the lobby glared at the room assigned to Yoon Iseo, grumbling among themselves.
“Isn’t this seriously too much?”
“Right? He has two rooms. Couldn’t he at least share one?”
After the resting areas for ranks one through forty-eight were revealed, people had naturally approached Yoon Iseo and asked to share one of his rooms. They weren’t complete strangers, after all. Since they were from the same department, they had assumed he would obviously let them use the spare room. But Yoon Iseo had refused them with razor-sharp finality.
“How the hell did he get such a high score?”
“No idea. Maybe he worked out a lot? Did you see his body?”
“Fuck, doesn’t anyone here know him?”
Everyone flinched at the crude language from Im Do-geon—one of the few third-years and a classmate of Han Seung-woo—but no one answered. Frowning in frustration, Im Do-geon singled out a guy from the same year as Yoon Iseo.
“Hey, Jang Jun-ha. You’re in the same year as Yoon Iseo, right?”
“We’re in the same year, but we’re not really close…”
“Still, you must know something.”
“Well… he worked out a ton. And whenever he had free time, he was always reading novels on his phone.”
“Novels?”
“Yeah, those internet novels. What do they call them—web novels?”
“Tsk. You’re telling me all that exercise got him a score like this?”
Han Seung-woo tried to make sense of it, but the number honestly didn’t add up. While everyone else had scraped together maybe 100 to 200 points at best, Yoon Iseo had racked up over a thousand. That wasn’t a gap you could close just by hitting the gym.
“Did he regress or something?”
“Even if our situation is fantasy, isn’t regression pushing it?”
“Then how does a normal person get that kind of score?”
“Yeah, it doesn’t make sense.”
They were suspicious, but they had no proof. Deep down, everyone thought something like that might be possible, but it wasn’t the kind of thing you could just ask about outright. So all they could do was suspect.
“So we’re just going to sit here and do nothing? Hey, Mr. President, go say something to him.”
“Dayeong, calm down. The guy just turned us down. You think he’ll change his mind if we go beg again?”
“Exactly. And did you see the way he bought that sword right in front of us? What do you think that means?”
When the room fell silent, Song Dayeong started whining again. Han Seung-woo and Im Do-geon simultaneously drew their thumbs across their throats in a slicing motion. If this were the modern world, it would have been a joke. But here, it might not be. Song Dayeong clamped her mouth shut and buried her face in her knees.
In truth, Yoon Iseo had simply bought the sword in advance because he could use his points in the lobby. But the others in the department, unaware of that, had already labeled him a cold-blooded psychopath with neither blood nor tears.
“Ugh… If I’d known it would be like this, I never would’ve come on this MT or whatever.”
“Why are you bringing that up now, Dayeong?”
“Because it’s true, damn it. I’m a third-year. Why the hell did I follow you guys here and end up like this?”
Negative emotions spread quickly. Starting with Song Dayeong, the resentment rippled outward. And honestly, they had every right to feel that way. Every single person here had died unjustly. Young people in their early twenties—supposed to be enjoying the prime of their lives—had all perished in a sudden accident on a trip. It was the kind of story that might have been mentioned in passing on the news, but they had lived it. And then they started this so-called “tutorial,” only to die again soon after and receive this kind of treatment. Of course they were bitter.
And that bitterness naturally flowed toward the person they saw as the root of it all.
“Hey, since we’re already doing this… how about we take that truck driver’s room?”
Im Do-geon, unable to endure the cold floor any longer, made the sly suggestion. Everyone leaned in to listen.
“C-can we really do that?”
“Why not? The angel said earlier she wouldn’t interfere in disputes between Hero Candidates.”
“But she also said she doesn’t recommend it. Doesn’t that mean we shouldn’t?”
“Come on, man. So we’re just supposed to leave that old bastard alone? He got us all killed!”
Im Do-geon’s eyes were already half-crazed. The others nodded as if possessed. A few grimaced at the instinctive revulsion of actually harming someone, but they all shared the same desire for revenge against the truck driver, Choi Kyung-seok, who had put them in this situation.
“So what’s the plan? That guy got fifth place, didn’t he?”
“What plan? We just go over and beat the shit out of him. There’s thirty of us. And even if he’s fifth, the score gap isn’t that big. It’s probably just a fluke.”
In reality, aside from Yoon Iseo in first, the scores were all fairly close. No matter how quickly these thirty people had died in the tutorial, they had still gained some experience in that short time. They didn’t dare touch Yoon Iseo, who had somehow earned over a thousand points alone. But Choi Kyung-seok, sitting around the 100-point mark, felt manageable.
“If you’re really nervous, we could ask Yoon Iseo to join us. He died just like the rest of us. He must want revenge too.”
“No. We already have this many people. There’s no need to bring him in.”
In Han Seung-woo’s view, the key to surviving here and earning a lot of points was numbers. He had already realized during the first tutorial that his individual survival skills were pathetic. If he wanted to be respected and treated decently, now was the time—while the title of “department president” still carried weight. But if they brought Yoon Iseo into the fold, the momentum would inevitably shift to him and his massive point lead. Han Seung-woo would end up like a duck egg floating down the Nakdong River.
“If the president says so…”
At Han Seung-woo’s firm refusal, Im Do-geon shrugged and stepped back. The title of president was meaningless now, but these people—who couldn’t even kill a single goblin properly—instinctively felt they needed a leader and comrades rather than standing alone. The position of department president was enough to fill that role.
“Anyone object?”
At Han Seung-woo’s words, the others glanced around nervously before nodding. They had already tasted failure in the first tutorial. They knew surviving alone was too much. There wasn’t a single person here confident enough to walk away from a group of thirty.
“Then let’s go.”
Like the saying about pulling the horns while the ox is still young, Han Seung-woo took the lead and headed toward where Choi Kyung-seok was staying.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
“Mister. Let’s have a little chat.”
“What’s this abou— You bastards!”
Choi Kyung-seok, who had opened the door without much thought, instinctively realized something was wrong the moment he saw the crowd gathered in front of his room. He yanked the doorknob, trying to slam it shut.
“Let’s talk with the door open, mister.”
But Han Seung-woo had already wedged his foot in. Defeated, Choi Kyung-seok let go of the knob. He staggered backward, overwhelmed by the hostile aura radiating from not just Han Seung-woo but all thirty of them. Pushed along by the surging crowd of students, he eventually found himself backed into a corner.
“You’ve been relaxing comfortably in here after putting us through all that?”
Han Seung-woo’s eyes swept over the rumpled bedding as he spoke. Choi Kyung-seok trembled.
“W-why are you doing this? Let’s talk like civilized people, students. Is it about the room? I’ll give it to you. I’ve rested enough.”
The same Choi Kyung-seok who had shouted fearlessly when Luniel was present now cowered like a beaten dog, tail between his legs. Back then, he had believed the overwhelmingly powerful angel would protect him. But Luniel wasn’t here now. And the rotten, dull eyes from earlier had been replaced by sharp, determined glares. Choi Kyung-seok couldn’t withstand the pressure.
“Sorry, but just taking the room won’t be enough to ease our anger.”
“You fucking bastards!”
When groveling didn’t work, Choi Kyung-seok finally snapped and charged first. He figured that since he had placed fifth, he could handle one or two of them, and the girls wouldn’t be much trouble.
Crash!
“Ugh!”
But it was impossible for an ordinary middle-aged man to defeat five adult males inside a cramped room. Choi Kyung-seok’s desperate struggle was instantly suppressed. He was shoved to the ground.
“S-save me! I was wrong!”
Terrified, he clung to Han Seung-woo’s pant leg and begged, but his apology had come far too late. If he had stayed low and read the room from the very beginning, maybe things would have been different. But now, none of the students had any intention of showing him mercy.
“Die, you son of a bitch! This is all your fault!”
Starting with Im Do-geon, whose emotions had boiled over, the rage spread like wildfire. A merciless beating rained down on Choi Kyung-seok. The students kicked him without restraint, men and women alike. Thirty people struck him with a single unified fury. There was no way a middle-aged body could endure it.
He collapsed in a wretched state, quickly losing consciousness. His body twitched helplessly. The students who had been beating him with glee suddenly froze when they realized the man was actually dying. They stopped kicking, panic setting in.
“W-what do we do? He looks dead…”
“…What do you mean, what do we do? We clean it up. You want to sleep next to a corpse?”
At Han Seung-woo’s cold words, the others began exchanging uneasy glances. He frowned at their selfish reluctance to deal with the body after they had beaten him so enthusiastically. He pointed at two random underclassmen and ordered them to dispose of it. Only then did the juniors snap into action.
Han Seung-woo scanned the now-empty room once more.
It’s small.
Even though they had obtained it, one room was far too cramped for thirty people to take turns using.
“Do-geon.”
“Yeah?”
“Let’s go to the next room.”
“That’s probably for the best, huh?”
The dopamine from the violence had flooded their systems, making even one room feel too small. Human greed knew no bounds. Once their hands were stained with filth, they had no choice but to see it through to the end.
The two of them explained it to the rest as if it were obvious. They moved on to the next room immediately. The three people using the studio next door looked uncomfortable, but after seeing what had happened to Choi Kyung-seok, they had no choice but to hand it over.
Once the better rooms were taken, the lower-ranked individuals had no room to protest. In the blink of an eye, every room except the two claimed by Yoon Iseo became communal space. Naturally, to finish what they started and claim the best rooms, they went looking for Yoon Iseo. He, who had already anticipated their arrival, greeted the usurpers warmly.
With a razor-sharp sword held high.
I had already figured out what was happening in the other rooms. They were making so much noise that it was audible even from inside my room. At first, I just thought, So this kind of thing happens too. The truck driver had accumulated massive karma, so I figured he would get what was coming to him no matter what.
But my expectations ended there.
Honestly, I never imagined they would go around taking over every room. No matter how much we were about to enter a medieval fantasy world, who could have predicted they would abandon modern sensibilities so quickly and turn into a bandit gang?
Of course I didn’t see it coming.
“Iseo, everyone else has decided to share rooms. You’re the only one left to choose.”
“Choose? With that murderous atmosphere you’re all giving off?”
The way they had swarmed over like this was no different from gangsters. If the mood had been friendly, maybe I would have considered it. But they were glaring at me while demanding I hand over my rooms. I might have listened if they had asked politely and offered something tempting. But judging by the situation, that wasn’t going to happen.
“Want to have a go with me too? I don’t mind.”
When I raised the sword I had bought earlier, the people at the front flinched and stepped back. It seemed they had come to me after successfully intimidating the others.
It won’t work on me.
Why did they think I bought this sword in the first place? It was partly to prepare for the next tutorial, but it was also for situations exactly like this. No matter how much I had trained, there was no beating a mob. If I had gained some kind of superpower upon coming here, it might be different, but I was still just a normal human. Even if I fought well, three or four ordinary people rushing me at once would be difficult.
And besides.
From the moment they first asked for a room, those bastards’ eyes had been ugly. When I refused, that department president guy and his two friends had given me such nasty looks. I knew something like this would happen from then on.
“So, does one of you want a hole in the gut before you leave, or will you just leave quietly?”
This was my final act of consideration. I could make an example out of one of them right here. But we had spent some time together, so I could at least offer this much mercy. Of course, if they ignored my goodwill and charged anyway, I had no choice. Senior or junior, I was fully prepared to cut them down.
“You’ll regret this.”
It was a truly pathetic line—someone clearly terrified trying to act tough. I couldn’t hold back.
“Well, we’ll have to wait and see who ends up regretting it.”