Paid Service (1)

It was Wednesday, so after finishing the newly uploaded episode of the Omniscient Reader's Viewpoint webtoon on Naver, I scrolled through the comments.

Same as always.

I'd been putting it off forever — I should read the novel sometime — and today, on a whim, I tapped open chapter one of the ORV novel.

That was all it took.

One moment I was lying comfortably on my bed, phone in hand. The next, I was sitting on a subway seat in a car whose lights had just gone out with a soft flick.

The train should have been rattling along with that familiar subway clatter, but it sat dead still in the dark. Voices murmured all around me, thick with confusion.

An emergency stop. A blacked-out subway car.

Goosebumps raced over my entire body. Cold sweat prickled across my skin.

Why was the word isekai — the kind of genre that flooded novels, webtoons, and anime — suddenly screaming through my head?

And of all things, the kind where you get dropped straight into the novel you were reading.

No. Seriously, no. Getting isekai'd just because I opened chapter one is ridiculous. I've only ever watched the webtoon. I've never even read the novel…!

I was still desperately denying the impossible situation when something happened that looked exactly like the scene I'd seen in the webtoon — identical, not merely similar.

A sound like something being torn open ripped through the air, and a brilliant light flared in the middle of the darkened car, flooding the cabin with white.

Floating at the center of that light was a creature the ORV world called a Dokkaebi.

Two tiny horns. A little rag of a cloak. Soft white fur like lamb's wool. The Dokkaebi known as Bihyung drifted there with an almost cute expression on his face.

Murmurs rose from the passengers at the sight of him.

But right now, I alone had to keep my head.

Otherwise I'm dead…

Calling this unreal and writing it off as a dream would have been nice. But what if it was real? What if it wasn't a dream, a hallucination, or some auditory trick?

I did not want to die a dog's death.

I didn't know the novel, but I'd at least kept up with the webtoon through every episode released so far.

Best move right now is to join up with Kim Dokja's party and ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠become one of their companions.

That was the only way I'd have even a scrap of hope of surviving this insane apocalypse.

The second that thought settled, while the passengers were still murmuring and Bihyung was still babbling in some unpatched alien gibberish, I whipped my head around, hunting frantically for Kim Dokja — one of the webtoon's protagonists.

Why isn't she here?

I searched the entire car. Even with people packed in shoulder to shoulder, not a single person who looked like they belonged to Kim Dokja's group was anywhere in sight.

Even Lee Hyunsung — the guy who's a hundred eighty-seven centimeters tall — is missing. What the hell?!

That was when it finally hit me that something was wrong.

Kim Dokja. Lee Hyunsung. Yoo Sangah. Lee Gilyoung. Han Myungoh. Even Kim Namwoon, who was supposed to die on this train — none of them were here.

Don't tell me… I'm on a completely different train? No, that can't be it. Just a different car, right?

It couldn't be a different train entirely — Bihyung was floating right there in midair. So I had to be in a different car ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠of the same train.

Apparently the Korean patch had finished and Bihyung had said everything he needed to say. His little horns stretched longer, and a message bloomed in front of my eyes.

Wait…

I'd been so busy scanning for Kim Dokja's party that I'd realized too late.

Kim Dokja's group was ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠in car 3807. What number was the car I was standing in?

I scrambled to check the car number painted above the door leading to the next compartment.

3707.

"Shit…"

The curse slipped out of me like a groan. Of all the cars in the entire train, I had to be in the one with the psychotic main character.

3707. The car Yoo Joonghyuk was riding in.

The car where Yoo Joonghyuk killed every single person except herself.

I remembered it clearly — she took the bomb and the lighter off the terrorist and detonated them, wiping out everyone else. The terrorist was supposed to become a real pain if he survived and grew stronger, so she killed him.

I'm fucked.

The realization hit like a post-nut clarity crash. Helplessness, hollowness, and a bone-deep emptiness sank into me.

"Wh-what?!"

Someone's panicked voice cut through the air.

I turned toward the sound and saw her — a black-haired, black-eyed beauty, nearly a hundred seventy-something centimeters tall, wearing a black coat with a black sword at her waist. She had shoved her hand into the pocket of a suspicious-looking man in a beanie and sunglasses, rummaging for something.

Yoo Joonghyuk? Wait — more importantly, a woman?!

I had no idea why the male protagonist had turned into a woman, but the guy in the beanie and shades was the terrorist, and she was searching him for the bomb so she could set it off.

"Coming through! Move!"

"Aagh! Don't push!"

"Wh-what the hell?!"

The second I saw what she was doing, I started shoving through the packed crowd, sprinting for the door that led toward car 3807.

As I ran, a sharp click, click sounded behind me.

That would be Yoo Joonghyuk lighting the lighter.

I still had a ways to go before I reached the door to 3807. The bomb was about to go off. In that case—

"What are you doing?!"

"What do you think you're doing, kid?!"

"Excuse me for a second! Sorry if you die!"

I grabbed the arms of the middle-aged man and woman in front of me, spun them around so they were facing the direction where Yoo Joonghyuk stood, and ducked behind their backs.

KRAAAAAAAAAANG!!

The instant I hid behind them, something exploded. The blast hurled my body across the floor.

"Ghhk…"

So Yoo Joonghyuk really had taken the terrorist's bomb, lit the lighter, and set it off.

A high, unpleasant ringing filled my ears. My vision swam. Still sprawled on the floor, I looked toward where Yoo Joonghyuk had been standing.

In the exact center of the blast zone, only Yoo Joonghyuk remained on her feet.

Around her lay corpses so mangled that finding an intact body was impossible — bloodstains, black smoke, and red flames. The thick, metallic stench of blood soaking the floor and the chunks of what had once been people made bile rise in my throat. But if I retched now, I was dead.

And the middle-aged man and woman I'd used as a meat shield — not friends, just shields — had, unfortunately, died instantly.

P-play dead. Just play dead.

Any second now, Yoo Joonghyuk would smash through the door to get to car 3807. Then she'd find Kim Dokja's party, who had already escaped the train, and chase after them.

If I can just survive in this black smoke and fire until she leaves…!

I could make it. Sure, I'd still have to cross the bridge somehow after that — but once I got out of this car, I'd figure something out.

I went limp, let my body go slack on the floor, and squeezed my eyes shut. Footsteps — thud, thud — approached. Yoo Joonghyuk's footsteps. She'd walk right past my corpse act and smash the door open.

Hurry up and walk, you psychotic kill-on-sight terrorist of a protagonist. This is disgusting. My eyes are stinging, I can barely breathe, my whole body aches, and I'm soaked in blood and it's gross as hell.

Thanks to the man and woman who'd taken the hit for me, I didn't seem to have any broken bones or major injuries. But the acrid black smoke and flames from the explosion made every breath a struggle, and the floor was slick with blood and chunks that felt like human flesh. It was driving me insane.

With my eyes closed, every sense was sharpened to a razor edge. When was this kill-happy maniac going to walk past already?

Finally, the sound of Yoo Joonghyuk passing me. Then the sound of her destroying the door — fist or sword, I couldn't tell with my eyes shut — smashing it open so she could leave.

Yes…! Smash it and get the hell out!

But luck had abandoned me. Right in front of my closed eyes, messages appeared.

The Star Stream system had recognized my meat-shielding of those two people as indirect kills and shoved the messages in my face.

Which also meant I had cleared the Main Scenario.

"Two…?"

Ah.

I was so completely, utterly fucked.