Free Web Novel“But, Mr. Seo Jehyun.”
“Yes.”
“Are you certain you just awakened?”
The tone was surprisingly firm for a simple question. I gave a short reply.
“Yes.”
“...Understood. Please come with me.”
Ah... so he’s suspicious.
My mood was already in the gutter—half my house had just been blown away and I’d nearly died—now I was being doubted on top of it. Still, if I argued here, I’d just end up branded a troublesome complainant. So I kept my mouth shut and followed behind Ryu Taeyoung.
He walked over to his car and gestured toward the passenger seat. I climbed in without protest and buckled my seatbelt. I’d assumed we’d be moving with the whole team, but it turned out it was just the two of us.
“Small car,” I noted.
“No need to drive anything bigger, so I keep this one.”
“Seems like you’d need it, though.”
Ryu Taeyoung was a big guy. I’m 185 centimeters, maybe a touch more now, and he was definitely taller—easily past 190. With his build, he looked even larger.
When I murmured this half to myself, he glanced at me sideways. Feeling his gaze, I turned fully to look at him. His description in the novel had been pretty spot-on, though, of course, side characters didn’t get meticulous detailing.
Handsome face, close-cropped hair, solid build. They say some people’s hair and eye color change after awakening, but his hair was still black, his eyes just as dark.
His story arc came much later, around episode ten. The life and death of this twenty-seven-year-old man were wrapped up in a mere ten chapters.
“...Why are you smiling?”
Was I? I hadn’t even realized. I wiped the expression from my face and turned my eyes to the windshield.
Ryu Taeyoung—twenty-seven. He awakened three years ago when he, his mother, and his younger sibling were caught in a Gate incident. Awakening usually came from something dramatic—when a life-threatening crisis unlocked someone’s latent potential. Most awakenings happened under the influence of a Gate’s mana waves. In his case, it was the sheer determination to save his family.
His mother died in that accident, but his sibling survived. And Ryu Taeyoung became an Awakened, joining Special Response.
Classic by-the-book civil servant. A bit rigid, but over time, after facing various trials, he loosened up. In the end, he died holding fast to his beliefs—a good man through and through.
“Don’t you have any questions?”
“......”
“Usually, people do after they awaken. Especially after nearly dying multiple times in one day. I’d expect some shock, but you’ve shown no change in expression.”
“I’m not really processing reality right now. My house blew up, I rushed out in pajamas—you think my brain’s working properly?”
“...I see. That makes sense. Once again, let me apologize on behalf of my team member’s mistake.”
“I do have a question, if I can ask.”
I hadn’t had anything in mind before, but with him repeating his suspicions so many times, curiosity started to itch.
“Yes.”
“If I’d been hit by that tentacle and died, would that count as the hunter’s negligence? Or just an unfortunate death in a Gate incident?”
He shut his mouth. I was genuinely asking.
“...If the evidence shows that Hunter Kim’s negligence was significant, there would be disciplinary action.”
“Disciplinary action.”
So, not attempted murder. I guess with so few Awakened, if you punished every single one, there’d be no one left to clear Gates. A perfect world for hunters to turn into complete assholes.
Unfortunately, not everyone was as virtuous as me.
Ryu Taeyoung seemed to mull something over, opening his mouth only to close it again, before offering yet another apology. It didn’t mean much to me, so I just nodded.
“I’d say you’re likely a defense-type Awakened, Mr. Jehyun. From what I saw, your shield was similar to my skill—probably the same category, maybe the same grade... but I can’t say for certain.”
Not a chance. The reason my ability resembled his was probably this:
[Mimic (S)]
A skill that could copy another’s ability exactly. Just ~Nоvеl𝕚ght~ from the S-rank, you could tell it was rare—and, used well, nearly broken. The fact I could replicate any opponent’s skill should sound absurd on its own.
In the original, I hadn’t been the type to use it often. I only pulled it out in decisive moments, so it stood out, but in truth I didn’t spam it. Sure, it was powerful, but since it didn’t stay fixed on one ability, the proficiency was always lacking—it wasn’t quite the cheat code it sounded like.
I pulled up my status window again.
Name: Seo Jehyun
Age: 24
Rank: F
Titles: Transcender of Time and Space / Seed of the Great Apocalypse / The One Who ■■ the ■■
Main Skills: ■■ ■■ (EX), Mental Strength (S), Mimic (S), Agitation (A)
Growth Limit: EX
For reasons unknown, this was quite different from the “Seo Jehyun” in the novel.
First, the rank. In the original, Seo Jehyun started at B-rank from his first encounter with Kwon Taehan, and with skill boosts, far surpassed the average B-rank.
The titles were off, too. Original Jehyun only had “Seed of the Great Apocalypse.” No “Transcender of Time and Space,” and nothing with blacked-out text.
If I assumed I’d been dropped into Lim Sungyeon’s novel, “Transcender of Time and Space” could make sense.
Thinking about it seriously made me snort. Maybe the sanest choice was to get out of Ryu’s car right now and check myself into a psych ward. I mean, shit—if I told a doctor I’d fallen into a novel, they’d give me some very appropriate treatment.
I forced my expression back to neutral and shifted my focus to my skills.
Mimic and Agitation were familiar enough. But the EX-rank skill, blacked out, was completely new to me. Same with Mental Strength.
Before, aside from Mimic and Agitation, I’d had Azure Stream Grenade (A) and Pouring Rain (A)—both water-element offensive skills, my main dungeon-clearing tools.
So why the hell were they gone?
Was it because I wasn’t the same person as novel Jehyun? But if I was going to compare myself to real-life me, I shouldn’t even have a hunter’s status window to begin with. That, more than anything, made no sense.
I tried to stay calm, recalling the novel. Kwon Taehan’s story started at twenty-five. Given we were supposedly the same age, this current time had to be before the novel’s starting point.
So, which life was he on now? Knowing the number of times he’d died would help gauge his level of hatred for me. First... no, second life? Or ideally, way later, when his mental state was shot. ƒrēewebnoѵёl.cσm
If his grudge was at its peak, my current rank meant I’d have no chance of surviving. Sure, he had a bleeding-heart personality, but that didn’t mean he never considered killing me.
Goddammit, Lim Sungyeon. If you knew a world like this was coming, you should’ve written from my perspective, not Kwon Taehan’s. These half-assed scraps of information are useless.
I pulled up my contacts list—completely clean, like it had been reset. No parents, not even the junior from my study group.
Messenger history was the same—no records, not even search history.
“Does my bank balance still exist?”
Checking my main account, I saw the numbers had changed—up, not down.
[Balance: 23,210,783,100 KRW]
In exchange, my stocks and funds were gone, and my officetel ownership was halved—now everything was liquid cash. I didn’t remember my exact net worth, but it hadn’t been in the billions. If my parents had been erased and their assets turned to cash, it should’ve been much higher.
“How different is this world from reality?”
If I existed, my connections should, too. But for now, there was no one to contact. I could dig through social media later, but I had no time right now.
I wanted to kick the dashboard, but harassing a public servant wasn’t on my to-do list, so I just looked out the window.
Maybe I needed to find someone who knew what was going on here. Who? ...Kwon Taehan?
That’s when my status window flashed violently.
Prepare for the coming apocalypse!
Staring at the message, understanding dawned slowly. Prepare for the apocalypse?
Kwon Taehan’s status window said, “Save the world from destruction.” Easy to interpret. But telling me to prepare for it? That made me sound like the one causing it.
Was this telling me to play the original mastermind role?
The moment I thought it, more text appeared.
Welcome, “Seo Jehyun,” The One Who ■■ the ■■!
You are currently in the ‘grace period’ before Returnee Kwon Taehan’s fi■h life begins.
Probability for apocalypse... 7%
Warning.
Do not damage the pro■■ility.
Penalties will be applied for non-compliance.
The blacked-out parts were annoying, but there was still plenty to go on.
First line—skip it. Second—so this was the grace period before Kwon’s fifth life began. And below that, “probability for apocalypse.” In the context of a novel, “probability” made sense.
Grace period...
Kwon respawned three months before meeting Seo Jehyun—in April. Today was October 7, so that left roughly six months. The grace period must be that span. And fifth life?
The novel didn’t cover all thousand lives, just major checkpoints: the second, the fifth—the mental breaking point—and then lives closer to the end, like the 999th and 1000th.
The fifth life was when his hatred for Seo Jehyun was at its peak. After that, his mind gradually eroded into fatalistic acceptance. So of course they dropped me in now.
And this “don’t damage the probability” warning? That never appeared for Kwon. So maybe it only applied to me—someone aware this was a “novel.”
It probably wasn’t just the dictionary definition of probability. More like: follow the villain’s path to bring about destruction.
Which meant I’d have to kill Kwon 994 times? Kill someone whose growth potential was practically limitless? And according to the original, I ended up dying to him in the end.
So basically, I was being told to march toward my own death.
Why the hell would I do that?
As if in answer, the last line pulsed brightly.
Penalties will be applied for non-compliance.
And what were those penalties? The status window stayed stubbornly silent.
Fine. I’d find out myself.
I’d need to know the penalties if I wanted to keep things within tolerable limits. Plenty of ways to damage “probability.” I picked the easiest.
“Hunter Ryu Taeyoung.”
“Yes.”
“I don’t know exactly when, but you die in a jungle dungeon.”
“...What?”
Spoiler, motherfucker.
