Chapter 2

Chapter 2
So what you are telling me is that you chose cola at that convenience store too?

In response to my question, the blonde boy with red eyes gave a sharp, energetic nod.

Unlike myself—a traditional East Asian character model featuring black hair and dark eyes—this kid possessed a distinctly Western appearance.

And somehow, impossibly, he happened to be someone I already recognized.

Your handle is… ShutInHoney? That foul-mouthed user?

Do you really have to append foul-mouthed to it? Who on earth avoids swearing entirely within internet forums?

Individuals who constantly hurl insults at total strangers are generally labeled social misfits… Never mind. Whatever.

Myself and ShutInHoney.

Pooling our thoughts and analyzing the clues we gathered, one fact stood out clearly: this environment was unquestionably Apocalypse: Safe Zone.

The two of us had materialized inside the Cola Safe Zone.

Two people transmigrating into the video game simultaneously……

Does that even make logical sense?

Everything felt far too vivid to dismiss as mere imagination.

But why is your handle ShutInHoney anyway? Were you aiming for ShutInLuBu and accidentally made a typo?

It was a clever spin on ShutInLuBu. You simply lack the appreciation for it.

I honestly had no clue what part of that could be considered clever.

What about you then? What is your handle?

Me?

For a fleeting second, I almost uttered Dopamine Addict, but checked myself just in time and substituted someone else’s screen name instead.

…T-balnom.

T-balnom was a regular participant who consistently dropped thoughtful questions underneath my strategy guides.

My reason for concealing my actual username was straightforward: right before my transition into this world, I had blocked ShutInHoney, meaning I needed to dodge an awkward confrontation somehow.

Whether we liked it or not, since the pair of us had dropped into this realm together, collaboration was essential. There was no benefit in starting on bad terms……

T-balnom? I believe I have spotted that name around the community. So you acquired the convenience store location from Home Protector as well?

From Home Protector?

I had been wondering how ShutInHoney managed to learn about that shop prior to his transmigration.

So that scoundrel Home Protector had actually circulated the address I provided him?!

This individual had seen the location, visited the store, and subsequently transmigrated.

…Wait.

Could this indicate that additional transmigrated users exist within this game beyond the two of us?

What about the genuine T-balnom I was currently impersonating?

…No. T-balnom was the sort of user who despised cliques and networking; there was zero chance he would accept a loose note containing directions from Home Protector. Even if he had, he lacked the dedication to track down a convenience store over it.

Yet Home Protector, the person who distributed the papers—that presented an entirely different scenario.

Home Protector might be lurking somewhere nearby then.

Regardless of whether he arrived at the identical deduction, I overheard ShutInHoney muttering under his breath.

Should we go search for him?

I doubted that Home Protector shared our specific zone, however.

For a logical reason.

Home Protector is a heavy smoker. He likely opted for tobacco.

Yes, that makes sense.

ShutInHoney nodded in comprehension—then seemed to recall a detail and groaned softly.

That jerk is here too……

What jerk?

Dopamine Addict. That attention-seeking wretch.

My expression hardened instantly. ShutInHoney misinterpreted my look as unadulterated hostility toward Dopamine Addict and launched into an animated rant.

He is the one who originally published the convenience store address, correct? Therefore, he must have transmigrated as well.

…Most likely.

Where was that fellow’s primary zone again? Unicorn, wasn’t it? Just picturing him trapped in the most punishing zone right now, drowning in regret—man, that is deeply satisfying.

Indeed. Deciding against introducing myself as Dopamine Addict had definitely been the correct choice.

Though… I remained fairly confident I had never experienced any direct conflict with this person……

ShutInHoney allowed himself a brief smirk before his expression darkened once more, prompting him to ask,

So… what are our next steps? If we genuinely crossed over into the video game universe, are we required to execute a walkthrough or something similar?

The difficulty level here might be somewhat milder, but he was only just fully grasping that he, too, was trapped inside the digital realm.

Preparing for the end of the world is preferable to remaining idle. Either way, if this truly is the setting of the Apocalypse game, this region faces imminent destruction.

Why did this misfortune have to befall me… If I ever track down Home Protector, he is a dead man.

Precisely how many individuals had Home Protector handed that address to?

How many of us had been transported here?

For whatever reason, ShutInHoney and I happened to spawn in the identical location, yet other players might have dropped into Cola as well.

Well… once the Second Apocalypse commenced, encountering the rest of them would happen naturally enough.

…Except by that point, it transforms into zone-against-zone survival, doesn’t it?

The realization that we might eventually be forced into mortal combat with fellow transmigrators flickered through my mind—though that crisis remained distant.

Furthermore, this was no longer a mere game. It was absolute reality. Perhaps the traditional player-versus-player survival mechanics would not even apply here.

Within the game environment, anyone hailing from an alternate zone was classified as an enemy. Among transmigrated players, however, the dynamic differed.

Surely a collection of Koreans would not genuinely attempt to murder one another……

…I could not be certain. I would ponder that dilemma later.

ShutInHoney appeared to be weighing several thoughts before inquiring,

If this constitutes a game transmigration, are we capable of utilizing standard game interfaces?

He immediately began shouting commands into empty space—phrases like Status Window, Inventory, and similar gaming terms.

Nothing occurred.

Ha, damn it… They yank us into a game without granting us any starting advantages?

Speaking of which—did you observe that phenomenon?

Observe what?

The notification that appears at the very beginning. The Revelation.

Ah… right, I did not receive that either.

The Revelation consisted of a single sentence.

Typically, the instant a player opened their eyes within their designated starting zone, they should have been greeted by the following text:

REVELATION
The world will soon end. Prepare for the apocalypse.

Yet when I awoke inside this world, that prompt never appeared.

Judging by ShutInHoney’s reaction, he had missed it as well.

So we genuinely have to survive this catastrophe with zero assistance? As children? Does that make any logical sense? I led a perfectly decent life, damn it……

I stared at him with a prolonged, steady gaze. He flinched visibly and looked away.

Ha, hell, I really should have restrained my swearing……

Considering that even that muttered complaint began with a curse word, expecting restraint from this individual was hopeless.

What are your intentions moving forward? T-balnom, have you played through the Cola Area before? How far have you progressed?

Myself… all the way through Unicorn.

In truth, I had cleared the game completely through the Knife stage, yet the sole player who had ever conquered the hidden zones was Dopamine Addict.

Even with my purposely scaled-down response, ShutInHoney eyed me with undisguised skepticism.

Do not feed me nonsense. The only people to conquer Unicorn are Dopamine Addict and a handful of fanatics who treat his guides like scripture. Wait… oh, I understand now. You merely read Dopamine Addict’s strategy notes and are pretending to possess actual expertise.

…Strange.

For someone who supposedly despised me, this kid possessed an excessive amount of information regarding my activities.

Beyond just my guides—he even tracked the clearance records of my dedicated followers.

Come to think of it, when I published my final strategy post, he had materialized immediately following Home Protector to leave a reply.

Perhaps he did not harbor any genuine hatred for me at all……

I tossed out a casual probe to test the waters.

Yes, I am a follower of Dopamine Addict. I rarely comment, but I have committed every single one of his guides to memory.

Y-you memorized all of them?

Well, yes. I authored them.

ShutInHoney’s lips twitched as though he were suppressing a remark, before he asked in a subdued tone,

Then… do you happen to have his Knife guide memorized as well?

Naturally.

…Really? That comes as a relief.

A relief?

Did you not read that guide yourself? I thought I spotted your username in the comments section.

That triggered a sudden reaction. ShutInHoney flared up instantly, his complexion shifting rapidly between pale and crimson.

I was in the middle of reading that exact guide… and that wretched bastard blocked me, dammit…! I left supportive comments under every single post and clicked recommend every time, and that son of a bitch……!!

Ah……

So he did not loathe me after all.

Put differently, he had cultivated a one-sided sense of familiarity with me, suffered a block, and remained bitter about it ever since.

He had diligently endorsed my guides?

Perhaps he was not such an unlikable person after all.

Goddamn it. Committing all the guides to memory is impressive and all, but why on earth did I have to transmigrate alongside a Dopamine Addict fanboy……

If you harbor a grievance, resolve it independently. More importantly, you inquired about my future course of action moments ago, correct?

I brushed aside his grumbling and continued.

Starting from this moment, I intend to assume the identity of the Bastard Son.

The Bastard Son strategy.

It represented one of the Cola Safe Zone blueprints I had previously shared within the online community.

This specific Safe Zone, Cola, was governed by a powerful warlord who maintained total control and protection over the region.

The Bastard Son strategy involved positioning oneself as the illegitimate offspring and designated heir of the warlord’s primary commander: Hayden Goodman.

Hayden Goodman functioned, essentially, as the equivalent of the Grand Duke of the North in this domain.

Given that the Cola Safe Zone occupied the snowy continental periphery, the comparison was entirely accurate.

The moment I introduced the concept of the Bastard Son, ShutInHoney clicked his tongue in disapproval.

Yes, you have definitely only studied Dopamine Addict’s walkthroughs. That is his infamous Bastard Son strategy. Listen, do not attempt that. Video games and reality operate under different rules. Is that even something a rational human being would try?

I was well aware that my strategies—which consistently courted maximum risk—were specialized.

Cola served as a low-difficulty zone. One could easily survive until the apocalypse arrived without resorting to the reckless gamble of playing the Bastard Son.

However, high risk paired with high reward was a principle that held true for a reason.

We might only receive a single opportunity to achieve a successful clear.

During that window, we needed to extract every possible advantage available.

To achieve that, securing Commander Goodman’s heir position was paramount.

If you are terrified, handle your survival independently.

W-who is scared? I am merely questioning whether such a feat is even executable.

Executable……

The Bastard Son strategy dictates that you must deceive the Commander directly. If your falsehoods are exposed, you could quite literally forfeit your head.

So you are admitting that you are frightened.

No… fine, yes, I am terrified. This is no longer a simulation. Actual death is on the table.

I could not entirely fault ShutInHoney for his fear.

We had been abruptly dragged into a digital universe without warning.

Plunged straight into an apocalyptic wasteland where perishing at any second as ten-year-old children was entirely plausible.

Naturally, terror was an appropriate response.

Yet strangely… I felt no such dread.

Whether it stemmed from the self-assurance of having conquered even the hidden tiers, or simply because the reality of the transmigration had not fully registered, I could not say.

If anything, ever since stepping into this world, I had experienced a bizarre, exhilarating rush.

I had previously assumed no further adrenaline remained to be extracted from this game.

Perhaps harboring this exact mindset was precisely why ShutInHoney resented me so deeply.

Regardless.

I am the one obligated to fool the Commander either way… and if my life ends in the process, so be it.

What?

Who knows? Perhaps dying simply transports you back to reality.

I voiced the thought aloud, though the probability of such an outcome remained microscopic.

It served primarily to comfort ShutInHoney, who was spiraling into panic, whereas for myself, a life-and-death scenario functioned more like a stimulant than a deterrent.

Such panic could not simply be ignored.

ShutInHoney represented a necessary chess piece in my broader scheme. Should he start acting independently out of panic, complications would arise.

At the suggestion that expiration might return him home, ShutInHoney’s expression flickered with momentary interest.

Judging by his demeanor, he was evidently entertaining the notion of purposefully dying just once.

Fortunately, I was spared the trouble of talking him out of it.

He lacked the actual courage to test the theory; his shoulders slumped in resignation almost instantly.

What if you fail to return and simply… actually perish……

Perishing due to a failed clearance attempt versus perishing because a lie was uncovered amounts to the exact same outcome. Regardless, I am departing to execute the strategy. Accompany me or stay behind.

Hey!

ShutInHoney intercepted me as I pivoted to walk away without a backward glance. He hesitated briefly before asking in a hushed tone,

Between the two of us, who is actually performing the Bastard Son routine?

I informed you previously. From this point forward, I am assuming the role of the Bastard Son.

Why do you get to claim the superior position?!

Had he not just argued that getting caught in a deception would lead to execution?

Well then. One primary motivation for handling the task myself stemmed from my severe doubts regarding this kid’s mental capacity to pull off the Bastard Son deception. Yet a more decisive factor existed as well.

Commander Hayden possessed black hair and dark eyes—distinctly East Asian traits.

ShutInHoney sported a blonde-haired, red-eyed Western character model.

My own avatar featured black hair and dark eyes.

If you claim to be the Commander’s illegitimate offspring, do you imagine anyone would swallow that ridiculous lie?

Only then did ShutInHoney appear to examine his own character model. He jerked upright and muttered a curse under his breath.

Dammit, why was I saddled with this specific avatar……

You are Korean, you little fool—why does your character model look like that? You absolute Western-idol-obsessed freak.

My original starting zone happened to be Love, you jerk!

So this individual had failed to spawn in his native zone either.

The Love Area was heavily saturated with appearance-based social hierarchies; a pretty-boy aesthetic like his fit seamlessly into that environment.

Regardless, I am claiming the Bastard Son role.

Then what am I supposed to occupy myself with? The Bastard Son framework does not require assistance from secondary parties.

Ah.

That explained why he was so disgruntled regarding the Bastard Son strategy.

It functioned as a solo-clearable guide.

Certain alternative strategies demanded coercing cooperation from non-player characters, and ShutInHoney had likely anticipated filling an NPC support role for cooperative gameplay.

However, I preferred operating alone.

At least for the present, I harbored zero intentions of partnering with this kid.

That being said, this world faced a prophesied apocalypse—meaning I would eventually require his utility.

For the region to prepare adequately, the local populace needed to be convinced that the end of days would arrive within a decade.

Down the line, he would need to assist me in persuading them.

And to accomplish that……

He first needed to win their confidence.

I turned to him and inquired,

Have you completed your mandatory military service?

What? No? I just turned twenty years old.

Scarcely twenty?

No wonder he behaved like an immature brat.

A draft dodger. Magnificent.

What part of that is magnificent?

I offered an amicable smile toward ShutInHoney, who remained entirely oblivious to what lay ahead.

You. Go enlist in the military.