People Aiming for the Golden Box (3)

A five-story building.

The structures around it had taken a beating from the monsters and were mostly wrecked, but this one still stood intact — a building wrapped in a blue barrier. A Sector had formed here.

Inside, a man sat at an office desk and stared at a message floating in front of his eyes.

A notice that one of his loyal subordinates was dead. At the same time, a contract materialized in midair — then burned away to nothing.

"So Soo-hwan's dead."

Hwang Min-soo wore a bitter smile. The kid had followed him reasonably well, so he felt a twinge of regret. Not that he particularly needed him anymore. With the ability he possessed, he could always find better people to put under him.

Who the hell did it, though?

Still, one of his men was dead. He was curious. Then another message appeared.

A new contract appeared before his eyes. This time, instead of burning away, Kang-soo's signature on the page began to bleed red.

"So Kang-soo betrayed me."

The betrayal clause written into the contract. Fail to obey him, and that provision would trigger. Who had gotten Soo-hwan killed and driven Kang-soo to turn?

He clicked Y, and a screen opened in front of him. The viewpoint that filled it was nothing like a normal person's eye level.

He's already transformed.

Kang-soo had become a monster completely. There was nothing human left to find.

"That guy?"

A single figure entered Kang-soo's field of vision. A man stood facing him, gripping something that wasn't quite a sword — more like a Giant Knife. And around him, monsters moved at his command.

"A Summoner. That's a rare class."

Not the kind of class you ran into every day. Four-star at minimum. At the presumed Summoner's order, Bugbears closed in on Kang-soo, who had become a giant octopus.

Moving in perfect unison, the Bugbears toyed with the giant octopus under the Summoner's direction. They brought their axes down on its tentacles one by one, and the discipline in those cuts looked like the work of well-trained soldiers.

Slap! Slap!

The giant octopus thrashed in agony. It whipped its remaining tentacles wildly, but it was no use. Most of them were already gone. A massive Goblin strode toward what was left of it with a great sword in its hands and drove the blade down into the creature's body.

Then the man with the knife approached the giant octopus at a leisurely pace.

The knife began to move as if it were dancing, carving through the octopus. The creature was sliced apart with startling speed. It was already dead, but its nerves still seemed to fire — the flesh twitched and writhed. In moments, the giant octopus had been reduced to sashimi.

Flash.

At the same instant, the screen went dark.

"That guy's incredible."

Hwang Min-soo licked his lips. A Summoner who could also handle a blade — and handle it well. If he could put this man under him, it would be quite the profitable arrangement.

"I'll have to look into him."

Knock. Knock.

Click.

The moment I knocked, Jin-hwan pulled the door open.

"Ssaem. How did it go?"

"Don't worry. I made sure they paid."

"Really?"

At my words, Jin-hwan looked at his dead parents and began to sob. Min-cheol patted him on the shoulder. After crying for a while, Jin-hwan wiped the last of his tears and looked up at me.

"Ssaem. Thank you."

"Don't mention ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠it. Those bastards couldn't have been left alive anyway."

People who took lives for nothing more than items. There was no question that others were doing the same thing even now — and not just one or two of them. The things we had to watch out for were no longer just monsters. People had become just as dangerous. I was starting to wonder if anyone could be trusted at all.

Jin-hwan dug a patch of earth nearby and buried his parents there. He would have wanted a proper funeral, but everyone understood that even that was a luxury now. In a world where you could die at any moment, where the only goal was to survive by any means necessary, we headed back to the school.

Several days passed.

Jin-hwan had taken it hard, but he seemed to be doing reasonably well. He wasn't the only one who'd been through something like this. They comforted each other, and he seemed to bounce back quickly. Acting like his usual self, he wandered over and struck up a conversation.

"Ssaem. Remember that Dungeon Scroll you mentioned before?"

"Ah. You mean this?"

A Dungeon Scroll. I'd picked it as one of the better-looking items off the people who'd died by my hand. The fact that you could take whatever you wanted from the dead made it obvious that more and more people would start hunting for exactly that.

"I was looking through the Bulletin Board and I think I found something related to this."

"Yeah? How'd you find it among all those posts?"

Electricity, running water — everything had been cut off. With phones and the internet dead, the System Bulletin Board was the only functioning means of communication. That meant a staggering number of posts went up every day, making it nearly impossible to find anything specific.

"Turns out there's a search function. You have to pay ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Coins for it, though. Pretty evil."

Jin-hwan used the search function right away. Enter a keyword, and it would show only the posts that contained it.

Coins just to run a search. It was a vicious Coin-recovery system, no question. Not that we could afford not to use it. There was no way to check every post by hand. Jin-hwan clicked one of the results that came up.

A Golden Chest?

The words jumped out at me more than anything else in the post. The Golden Chest I'd been desperately searching for was inside that dungeon. It wasn't confirmed, though. Even looking at the comments, there were still people who didn't know the chests existed at all.

Using the scroll might be a gamble, but if a Golden Chest really was in there, that was a risk worth taking. Whatever came out of it would be at least on par with the knife I was carrying — if not better.

So this Golden Key is what you need to open that Golden Chest.

I was considering using the Dungeon Scroll right then and there to go after it when a new indicator suddenly popped up.

Huh? A new notice?

A freshly posted announcement. The existing notices had only covered the most basic information, so I hadn't paid them much mind. This one, I couldn't ignore.

A class?

"Ssaem! Does this mean regular people can ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠get a class too?"

"Yeah. Looks that way."

Jin-hwan, who'd been reading the Bulletin Board beside me, immediately started spreading the news to everyone else. He knew just how critical a class was to surviving in this world. For the Unawakened, this was a golden opportunity they absolutely could not afford to miss.

If you want to last here, you have to have a class. No exceptions.

I looked around at the people who still didn't have one. Most of them have an Awakened in the family, so they can help each other out...

As I scanned the room, Ah-ra and Jin-ri caught my eye. Neither of them had a class. And both of their families were still missing. Since getting a class this time would require an Awakened's help, I called them over.

"Ah-ra. Jin-ri. Come here."

The two of them walked over.

"You've heard, right? They're giving people another chance to pick a class."

They both nodded.

"I'll help you. Don't worry."

"Really?"

"Yeah. But you have to get a class, understood?"

"Of course! I'll give it everything I've got!"

"Me too!"

The truth was, the two of them had been far more anxious than anyone ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠else. Everyone around them had family or close friends who were Awakened, people they could talk through this situation with. They hadn't.

I wonder how this is going to work.

It wouldn't be as simple as spinning the roulette like last time. If it were, there would be no need for the word "quest," or for Awakened to help. Compared to how easily people had gotten a class the first time around, it seemed like there was a penalty for those who'd passed it up.

Tick. Tick.

Time crawled by, and before long it was nearly one o'clock. Every eye in the room locked onto the second hand of the clock.

Five seconds left.

Five. Four. Three. Two. One.

One o'clock arrived, just as the notice had said. And in that instant, music began to play from somewhere.

Holographic letters appeared right in front of us, as if projected onto the air. They were the same letters that had appeared when all of this first began. Nobody thought those letters were a joke anymore. Everyone stared at them with grim, serious faces.

After a lengthy explanation, the bodies of everyone who hadn't chosen a class began to glow faintly. A bracelet locked itself around each of their wrists.