Chapter Text
The silence inside the classroom was suffocating. Even with the bodies of their classmates behind them, already stiff with death, no one had the strength to speak. JL exhaled slowly and looked at each of his friends—his comrades now, whether they liked it or not.
“We should go,” he said finally, breaking the quiet. His voice was steady, calm, but there was an edge of urgency in it. “Contact your families. If they’re still alive… they’ll be worried. And it’s chaos outside. We need to move while we still can.”
There was a brief hesitation. Some looked toward the dead, others toward the window as if expecting the world to right itself suddenly. But it didn’t. This was reality now.
JL stood and walked to the classroom door, holding it open.
“I’ll drive.”
The others slowly followed. Woongki’s eyes lingered for a moment too long on a friend’s motionless form, and Shuaibo gently pulled him along. No one spoke. Even the chatter that usually buzzed in the group like static had gone silent.
As they stepped out into the hallway, the air was thick with a metallic tang. Blood was smeared on lockers and floor tiles. Desks had been overturned in other classrooms. And every so often, a hand or shoe stuck out from a doorway. No one dared look too closely.
When they finally emerged into the courtyard, the full scope of the devastation hit them like a freight train.
The school grounds were littered with bodies. Students, teachers, and even security staff. Some had been torn apart, others simply collapsed as if death had come swiftly and silently. The sky above was unnervingly calm, but the silence was worse than any storm.
Han averted his eyes. Jeongwoo muttered something under his breath in Korean. Juwon’s hands trembled. Chih En closed his eyes as he walked.
They made their way quickly across the lot, weaving around corpses and shattered glass, until they reached the parking area. JL’s sleek black SUV sat in the corner, almost absurdly clean amidst the carnage.
He unlocked it with a beep.
“Get in,” he said.
Steven took the passenger seat without question, while the rest filed in. Han, Juwon, and Jeongwoo squeezed into the back row; Chih En, Shuaibo, and Woongki took the middle. JL started the engine, hands moving smoothly even as the horror sat like a weight on everyone’s shoulders.
The silence hung heavy in the car, only broken by the frantic tapping and murmurs of his friends desperately trying to connect with their families. JL kept his eyes on the road, driving past the gates of the school, tires rolling over splintered glass and patches of dried blood. The city beyond wasn’t the one they remembered. It was quiet in a way that was wrong—no hum of traffic, no shouting from passing pedestrians, no background murmur of life. Just... absence.
JL’s knuckles whitened against the steering wheel. “Try your families,” he said again, firmer this time. “If they’re alive, they’ll be trying to contact you too. The longer we wait, the worse it gets.” Steven, seated beside him in the passenger seat, had already called his mom three times. Each attempt ended the same: silence or the dreaded tone of a dead line. Behind them, the others did the same.
Han stared down at his screen, jaw tight, eyes dry but dark with rising panic. Jeongwoo was the quietest, holding the phone to his ear with trembling fingers. His other hand clutched his knee like it was the only thing grounding him. Chih En sat with his head low, the phone glued to his ear as he tried number after number.
In the middle seats, Woongki whispered his mother’s name over and over between calls. Shuaibo leaned his head against the window, blinking fast, trying not to cry. Juwon, for all his usual energy and charm, was curled in on himself, teeth sinking into his bottom lip, eyes darting down to the call screen again and again.
JL didn’t speak. His eyes were on the road, weaving past wrecked vehicles and small fires on the edge of the street. He didn’t have parents to call. They’d died in an accident long ago. He had no siblings. No extended family. Just his inheritance, and the faint warmth of a home he barely visited. But he wasn’t worried for himself.
He was worried for Steven’s mother.
That woman had cared for him when no one else did. Fed him, held him through breakdowns, let him sleep on their couch when things got too heavy. She wasn’t just Steven’s mother. In many ways, she had been his too.
The others didn't know it, but JL had already scanned the data through the system earlier—he knew the odds. The vast majority of their families hadn’t made it. Not their fault. Just a roll of fate in this cruel new game.
Only three survived: Steven’s mother. Chih En’s father. And Juwon’s little brother.
That was it.
And then, finally, one phone rang back. Juwon gasped. “Oh my god—!” He swiped quickly and brought the phone to his ear. “Hello?!” A small, scared voice crackled through the receiver. “Hyung…?” Juwon choked on a breath, shoulders sagging. “D-Daisuke?! Is it really you?”
“Yeah…” the boy’s voice trembled. “Where are you? Everything’s scary, I got transported somewhere earlier, people were screaming… and then it got quiet…”
Everyone turned to Juwon, eyes wide.
“I’m okay, I’m okay,” Juwon reassured quickly, trying to keep his voice from breaking. “Where are you, Daisuke? Are you safe?”
“I’m still in school,” Daisuke whispered. “We came back in the classroom but many of my classmates are not moving, hyung. I don’t know what to do so I hid under the table. I crouched and kept quiet, just like you told me when we practiced for fire drills. But I heard something outside… something bad.”
JL’s voice came in gently but firmly. “Which school?” Juwon responded with the name of the nearby middle school two districts away, JL nodded. “We can get there in under twenty minutes.”
“Daisuke, listen to me,” Juwon said, trying to sound as calm as JL did, even though his hands were shaking. “Don’t come out there for anyone but me. I’m coming to get you, okay? Just hold on.”
“O-Okay…”
The call ended, and the silence returned—but now it thrummed with purpose. “We’re heading to get Daisuke,” JL announced, changing lanes swiftly. “That school’s closer than any of your family homes. And he’s alive.”
No one objected.
Steven sat straighter. “Right. Let’s move fast.”
JL drove with precision and speed, weaving through abandoned intersections, broken vehicles, and overturned traffic signs. The deeper they went into the city, the more the devastation unfolded before them: buildings scorched at the edges, glass shattered on sidewalks, storefronts looted and left in panic.
And the bodies.
Every few blocks, they passed them. Lying crumpled on sidewalks, slumped over car dashboards, face down in the middle of the street. The further they went, the clearer the scale of the horror became. This wasn’t isolated.
This had happened everywhere.
More than four billion people have gone in the blink of an eye. “JL…” Woongki said quietly, voice cracking, “This… is what happened, right? What the system said?” JL nodded without taking his eyes off the road. “Yeah. Over half the world. Gone. Just like that.” Jeongwoo let out a strangled sound and looked away from the window. Han covered his mouth. Chih En lowered his head again.
Shuaibo muttered, “How are we even supposed to live in this world now?”
JL didn’t answer right away.
Finally, he said, “We do what we can. Stay alive. Protect who we have left.”
Silence again.
Then Steven’s phone buzzed—a message.
His mother.
He opened it quickly, eyes scanning the screen. She was alive. Somewhere outside the city, on the outskirts where she worked in a secure facility. For a moment, JL let himself exhale in relief. Steven’s mom was safe. That was something. “I’ll go to her after,” Steven said, voice quiet but resolved. “After Daisuke.”
“We’ll go together,” JL said.
It wasn’t a suggestion.
JL pushed the accelerator.
Minutes later, they reached the school. The building loomed like a skeleton in the mist, quiet and full of unseen eyes. The courtyard was cracked, the school emblem on the gates defaced with long scratches. Blood dotted the stone path like breadcrumbs.
No one spoke.
They filed out of the car, the eight of them walking with quiet urgency, Juwon leading them inside. The hallways were darker than they should’ve been—lights flickered, some shattered. A foul smell lingered. Distant creaks and groans echoed like the walls themselves were whispering.
As they rounded the second-floor corridor, Juwon suddenly broke into a run.
“Classroom 2-C!” he called out.
They all followed and soon stood outside the door. Inside, behind the teacher’s desk, a small figure crouched. A mop of black hair peeked out—Daisuke. Juwon’s breath caught. “He’s okay…” He stepped forward, but JL reached out and grabbed his arm.
“Wait,” JL said firmly. Juwon blinked. “What are you doing?” JL stared at the door, unease settling in his chest. “What did you guys do with your points?”
“Huh?” Steven asked, glancing over. “Why are you asking that now?” Chih En frowned. “Is something wrong?” JL’s eyes narrowed. “Something’s off. The energy here—it feels like when a game is about to trigger.” Woongki looked up from his phone. “You think Daisuke’s already inside a game?” JL slowly nodded. “Or about to be.”
From inside, Daisuke had noticed them. His eyes lit up as he ran toward the door, tugging at it, but it wouldn’t open. It was sealed. Juwon’s chest tightened. “Daisuke!”
He rushed to the door and reached out—and it clicked open. JL stiffened. That shouldn’t have happened. Classroom games are usually isolated in the room entirely. No one could enter or exit unless the game allowed it. If Juwon could just unlock it—
JL’s gaze swept the hallway. The walls began to shimmer subtly, the floors vibrating under their feet.
JL stood just beyond them, his sharp eyes scanning the environment. Something was wrong—no, very wrong. He had thought they arrived in time to interrupt the start of the game, to pull Daisuke out before it could lock him in. But now? The whole building hummed with energy. The system’s presence was seeping through the walls like smoke.
JL’s chest tightened. “It’s not just the classroom,” he murmured, voice low and grim. “The entire school is caught in it now.” The others turned toward him in alarm.
“What?” Chih En asked. “You mean… the game already started?” Steven’s brows furrowed. “No,” JL corrected. “It’s about to. This is the pre-phase.”
The entire school began to collapse—no, transform.
The school's hallway twisted beneath their feet. Glass shimmered. Lights flickered and exploded in bursts of sparks. Dust stirred in the air like static. The eight friends stood in tense silence as Juwon pulled Daisuke into a tight embrace, the boy clinging to his older brother with a terrified whimper.
Then the system pinged.
JL reacted instantly. “Everyone! Use your points now—this determines your survival!”
The group jolted at his tone, but they obeyed. One by one, their fingers moved, selecting categories with little time to second-guess.
Steven distributed his 10 points evenly across the five primary stats. Agility +2, Strength +2, Endurance +2, Intelligence +2, Charm +2. His body surged with balance, his stance becoming steadier, more grounded. Chih En placed 5 points in Intelligence, 5 in Agility. His mind sharpened. Thoughts came faster, clearer. His limbs felt lighter.
Han went for raw survival. Endurance +4, Strength +3, Agility +3. His muscles tensed with power, bones hardening, his breathing slowing to a calm rhythm. Jeongwoo made a cerebral and social play. Intelligence +4, Charm +3, Agility +3. His senses heightened, voice smoother, mind quick to anticipate strategy.
Juwon immediately prioritized speed and social manipulation. Agility +5, Charm +3, Endurance +2. His reaction time spiked, and a strange allure emanated subtly from him, one that made even the shadows hesitate. Woongki and Shuaibo didn’t touch any base stats. Instead, both dumped all 10 points into their abilities, upgrading them to Level 2. Woongki’s time-stop had a longer duration now—ten full seconds. Shuaibo’s cellular regeneration worked faster and now affected deeper tissue, though still only usable on himself.
As for JL, he didn’t touch his stats at all—he had allocated them earlier. His S-rank healing had only reached Level 2, meaning he could seal cuts, mend sprains, and halt bleeding. But broken bones? Organ damage? Death? He wasn’t ready for that yet.
Then, as the last point was placed, a wave of heat passed over the entire school, followed by silence.
[WELCOME PARTICIPANTS TO THE POLICE VS ROBBERS GAME!]
Players will be randomly assigned into two factions.
Victory Condition: Total enemy elimination.
Game Duration: 3 hours
Location: Isolated Island Arena
Safe Zones: None.
The building vanished.
The concrete beneath their feet gave way to grass. Trees exploded upward from the floor. The sky turned a dusty gold. They now stood on a massive tropical island, surrounded by cliffs and dark ocean. The school was gone. So were the boundaries of the world they knew. Their interfaces shifted.
[Total Detected Participants: 103]
Faction Allocation:
→ Robbers – 51
→ Police – 52
Your Assigned Role: ROBBER
Game Mode: Police vs Robbers
Objective: Eliminate all members of the opposing faction
Each of them could feel it—that tug in their bones, the strange tingle in their skin. The stats they’d just distributed now embedded themselves into their body, weaving instinct into muscle, clarity into mind. JL narrowed his eyes at the jungle. “We’re in a game with a hundred and three people,” he muttered. “Fifty-one robbers, fifty-two police.”
“Wait, that many?” Han muttered, trying to grasp the scope. “Means we’re not the only players pulled into this,” Chih En said grimly. “It must have been the whole school.”
“And we’re all robbers?” Juwon asked, hand on Daisuke’s head protectively. JL nodded. “We’re a full unit of nine. That gives us an edge. Most will be scattered or solo. Stay close, and we can push through.” Woongki scanned the horizon. “So it’s a large-scale battle. Not one of those trust games or psychological rounds.”
“Yeah. It’s just straight-up survival.” JL's voice was hard. “And we’re outnumbered.”
Still, he had to admit—being on the Robbers' side was a small mercy. Robbers were usually given better terrain and more starting advantages in these games, at least in real-life games. They were also the ones often forced to play dirty, which suited some of his companions more than others.
The group reviewed their stats and abilities.
“And me?” Daisuke asked, his voice small. “You stay behind me,” Juwon said firmly. “Your stats won’t matter if you’re dead.” JL sighed. “Everyone was embroiled in a game earlier. If he’s here and alive, he must have survived a game and should have at least a basic ability or hidden stat. But we don’t have time to test that now.”
The forest rustled again.
Everyone tensed.
Then—
[Game Start in: 00:00:10]
Get ready.
“Guys, get ready!” Steven barked. “We can’t just run. We find cover, scan the area, look for weapons, and then locate other robbers to group up. The police have one more member than us, and they’ll be coordinated.” The timer struck zero.
[Game Start!]
Stay alive. Eliminate the other team.
Good Luck!
The jungle came alive.
Somewhere far off, a siren blared. Gunshots echoed—real ones. Explosions. Screams.
It had begun.
Steven took the lead, motioning them through the underbrush. JL followed beside him, alert. Han carried their rear while Woongki floated in the flank like a shadow. Chih En guided from the side, using his intelligence stat to pick up subtle terrain clues. Jeongwoo kept an eye on vantage points. Shuaibo stayed close to the middle, near JL.
And Juwon never let go of Daisuke’s hand.
As they moved, the system pinged once more:
[Special Rule: Police have access to enemy minimaps every 15 minutes.]
Suggestion: Relocate often. Coordinate with allies.
Number of Robbers Remaining: 51
Number of Police Remaining: 52
For now.