It was the usual after work day, late afternoon in Korea. The subway train was full of people returning home after a long day at work. Or so everyone thought. But then...

A deafening explosion rips through the subway train, sending shards of glass and twisted metal flying. Screams echo as passengers are thrown into chaos. The lights flicker, then die, plunging everything into darkness.

When the dust settles, {{user}} somehow survived and alive—bruised, disoriented, but breathing. Around {{user}}, survivors stir, their faces pale with terror. A cold silence fills the air before panicked screams erupt. The Dokkaebi’s grin widens as the scenario begins.

[Dokkaebi BI-7623] "Ahaha! Welcome, dear insects, to your first test! Kill or be killed—entertain the Constellations, and maybe you’ll survive!"

Lights flickering, a translucent screen materializes in the air, displaying blood-red text:

[Main Scenario #1 – Proof of Value] ▷ Objective: Kill one or more living beings. ▷ Time Limit: 30 minutes. ▷ Reward: 300 coins. ▷ Failure: Death.

Panic spreads instantly. Some survivors passengers back away, while others grip weapons—pens, bags, anything sharp. A man in a suit swings a briefcase wildly, his eyes crazed.

Near the front, a tired-looking man Kim Dokja remains eerily calm, his gaze calculating. Across the car, Yoo Joonghyuk stands with a sword already in hand, his expression icy.

Lee Hyunsung, a man that looks like an ex-soldier, steps forward, his fists clenched. "We don’t have to kill each other! There must be another way!"

A high-pitched giggle echoes as Dokkaebi Bihyung materializes mid-air. "Tsk tsk. How naive! But fine—if you won’t kill humans, how about… these?"

The windows shatter as monstrous ground rats swarm inside, their teeth glistening. {{user}} stands among the chaos. The Dokkaebi smiles faintly, its form becoming transparent as it disappears into the next space. In this kind of sudden chaos, how will everyone survive?

Starting in Mid-Story (Main Scenario #3)

Location: Seoul, Jongo District — Underground Evacuation Bunker B‑12. Time: 9:13 PM, 3rd Day After the First Scenario.

Setting: Main Scenario #3 in progress — “Cradle of the Weak.” Survivors are pinned between a cave‑in and a swarm of Juvenile Stone Golems. The dokkaebi has just announced a bonus condition.

Kim Dokja’s eyes flickered to the translucent blue window hovering before him, the red text almost mocking. “Bonus Objective: While the golems are active, one party member must remain inside the marked ritual circle for five consecutive minutes. Failure to maintain the ritual results in instant collapse of the entire bunker.”

Around him, the air was thick with dust and the grinding screech of stone against stone. The Juvenile Stone Golems — lumbering, child‑sized monstrosities with fists that could crack concrete — had stopped their advance. Instead they stood frozen in an unnatural ring, as if waiting for a conductor’s baton to fall. The survivors who hadn’t already fled were huddled against the cracked subway tiles, clutching makeshift weapons and whispered prayers.

Lee Hyunsung was already positioning his borrowed shield — a twisted steel door ripped from its hinges — in front of the chalk‑drawn ritual circle that glowed a sickly amber. Sweat carved tracks through the grime on his face. “Dokja‑ssi, I can hold them,” he said, voice steady but thin. “Five minutes. No problem.”

“Don’t be a fool,” Jung Heewon snapped, her sword already trailing embers. “The moment you step in that circle, every single golem will target you. We’d have to body‑block an entire army.” She glanced at the entrance where the tunnel narrowed to a single archway — the only choke point.

Overhead, a constellation’s indirect message flickered in the air like heat lightning.

[Constellation “Demon‑like Judge of Fire” nods solemnly.]

Kim Dokja ignored it. His mind was already re‑reading the scenario text, searching for the loophole he knew existed. In the original novel, this was where Yoo Joonghyuk’s companion — a nameless soldier — died holding the circle, buying enough time for the regressor to shatter the golem core. But that companion wasn’t here. Neither was that precise timeline. The wildcard variable had already shuffled the board.

He turned his head, scanning the crowd until his gaze landed on a figure who hadn’t been in any chapter he’d ever read. A survivor others had simply started calling {{user}}. No record in the Ways of Survival. No documented constellation whispering in their ear. Just a presence — quiet, watchful, and entirely unknown. Dokja’s fingers twitched. A blank tile. That could be a disaster or a lifeline.

A rough voice cut through his calculations. Yoo Joonghyuk, his dark coat smeared with monster ichor, returned from scouting the service hallway. “There’s a secondary conduit behind the east wall. If we overload it with enough energy, we might trigger a barrier that halves their numbers.” He paused, eyes narrowing at the circle. “But someone still has to hold the ritual.”

The golems began to drum their fists against the floor, a slow, building rhythm that shook bones.

Suddenly, a new system window materialized before every survivor present — including {{user}}.

[Dokkaebi Bihyung grins.] “Oh, you poor things look so uncertain. Let’s make this easier. The one who voluntarily enters the circle will receive a temporary skill boost appropriate to their hidden potential. But be warned — the golems will only attack the circle’s occupant. No substitutions once the countdown starts. Who wants to be a hero?”

Silence. Lee Hyunsung’s jaw tightened, but Jung Heewon grabbed his arm. Kim Dokja’s eyes shifted once more toward the stranger, the unknown variable that even his omniscient novel hadn’t accounted for. The bunker lights flickered. The ritual circle pulsed with hungry amber light, waiting for a single set of footsteps to enter its boundary.

[The ritual circle awaits. The party is pinned, and the dokkaebi’s offer hangs in the air. What does {{user}} do — and will the stranger’s unknown nature rewrite the scene, or doom them all?]

Starting in the Murim Realm

Location: Murim, Heavenly Sword Continent — Blue Bamboo Village, Misty Rain Pavilion. Time: Early Spring, Hour of the Hare (6:00 AM).

Setting: The party was pulled into a hidden mural‑gate during Scenario #2. Now stranded in the world of martial arts, they are guests of the Falling Petal Sect — but a Constellation’s trial is already unfolding.

The scent of rain‑soaked bamboo and distant temple incense clung to everything. Han Sooyoung’s heels clicked on polished wood as she crossed the pavilion, her expression somewhere between fascination and predatory curiosity. “So let me get this straight,” she said, twirling a strand of hair. “We touch a painted fish on a subway wall, and now we’re in a wuxia drama. Literal qi and sword sects. And that old woman who served us tea might be a hidden master.”

*“She is a hidden master,” Kim Dokja replied without looking up from the scroll he’d borrowed from the library. He’d been reading for two hours, cross‑referencing the names with what he remembered from the Murim chapters of Ways of Survival. “She reached the ‘Harmonious Spirit Realm’ decades ago. Her fingernails can cut through steel, and she poisoned our first cup. We didn’t drink it, so she’s currently deciding if we’re enemies or students.”

Lee Jihye choked mid‑breath. “She poisoned the tea?!”

“Welcome to Murim,” Yoo Joonghyuk said flatly, standing near the bamboo screen with his arms crossed. Even without his sword drawn, his posture radiated coiled violence that made the passing sect disciples shrink away. “In the 73rd regression, I spent three years in this world. The tea was a test. We passed.”*

“Barely,” Dokja muttered. “If {{user}} hadn’t noticed the discoloration on the second cup, we’d be vomiting our spiritual veins out right now.”*

He let the observation hang, giving the stranger — the one variable that had followed them through the portal — a brief glance. {{user}} had spoken little since arriving, but {{poss}} eye for detail was unsettlingly sharp. Dokja filed that away for later.

Outside, the village bell rang five times. A murmur moved through the morning mist like a living thing. The pavilion’s rice‑paper doors slid open, and the Old Madam of the Falling Petal Sect — a woman who looked no older than forty, with silver hair coiled like a serpent — stepped inside. Her voice was silk over steel.

"The Heavenly Sword Selection begins at noon. Every able‑bodied warrior from the five great sects will compete for the right to claim the Celestial Plum Sword — a relic that can cut the boundary between worlds. My honored guests,” her eyes lingered on Yoo Joonghyuk, then Dokja, then {{user}}, "have been… invited. Not to compete. But to survive. A rival sect, the Black Python Pavilion, has declared a blood feud against you. They believe you carry a stolen technique.”

The air trembled. A system window popped up before the entire party.

[Main Scenario – Murim Branch: “Blood Feud of the Blue Bamboo”] ▷ Objective: Survive the Black Python Pavilion’s ambush at the Selection Tournament. ▷ Time Limit: Until the tournament ends. ▷ Reward: 5000 coins, 1 Murim‑grade skill scroll. ▷ Failure: Permanent death and loss of all cultivation progress.

Jung Heewon’s hand dropped to her sword hilt. “An ambush. So we’re bait.”

“We’re always bait,” Han Sooyoung sighed. “The question is: do we spring the trap or turn it around?”

Kim Dokja’s mind raced. In the novel, the Black Python Pavilion had a hidden elder who could manipulate shadows — an ability deadly in a crowd. But {{user}}’s presence might be the unknown factor that could disrupt that elder’s technique. Or attract even worse attention. The sky above the village shimmered, and for a moment, everyone felt the gaze of a distant constellation — a vast, primal intelligence that smelled of peaches and thunder. The Great Sage, Heaven’s Equal, was watching.

A child disciple ran into the pavilion, pale. “Elder! The Black Python warriors have already surrounded the arena. They demand the outsiders be handed over before the first match or they’ll burn the village.”

The Old Madam’s eyes turned to ice. She looked directly at the party — and at {{user}}. “What say you, nameless one? Will you let this village become a funeral pyre, or will you walk into the tiger’s mouth?”

[The village is hostage. A blood feud is declared. The Great Sage watches. Does {{user}} stand with the party, offer themselves as a sacrifice, or seek a third path in the shadow of the Peaches of Immortality?]

The Tower of Shattered Tales

Location: Seoul, Jongno 3‑ga — The newly‑risen “Tower of Unwritten Endings.” Time: 3:04 AM, just after the 4th Main Scenario.

Setting: A dungeon/tower appeared in place of a collapsed department store. The party must climb it to deactivate a probability bomb at the top. Each floor is a “Chapter” of a dead story.

The tower smelled of old paper and clotted ink. Its interior was a spiraling library, floor after floor of bookshelves that groaned under the weight of untold narratives. But the books were not passive. As the party ascended, the stories inside them bled into reality — whispering corridors that looped, statues that wept real tears, monsters stitched from abandoned plots.

“I hate this place,” Han Sooyoung said, not for the first time. She held a torn manuscript page in one hand and her broken‑nibbed sniper‑sword in the other. “It’s like my worst draft pile came to life and got a bloodlust.”

“That’s essentially what it is,” Kim Dokja replied, his voice tight. He had recognized the tower’s name from Ways of Survival — the Tower of Unwritten Endings was a worldline garbage disposal. Stories that were never finished across the multiverse collected here, festering with unrealized potential. The probability bomb at the summit would detonate if no one reached it in 24 hours, erasing everyone inside into raw narrative fuel. “We’ve cleared four floors. Seven remain. The ‘Chapters’ get progressively stronger the higher we go.”

Ahead, Lee Jihye and Lee Hyunsung were prying open the door to the fifth floor. The iron‑bound wood groaned, releasing a gust of rose‑scented air that smelled of decay. The room beyond was a ballroom frozen in mid‑waltz — dancers in tattered gowns, their faces blank masks. A ghostly orchestra played a lullaby that scratched at the brain.

Yoo Joonghyuk stepped through first, sword already drawn. “This floor’s gimmick is romantic tragedy. Look for the princess who refuses to let her story end.”

Jung Heewon followed, her sword of judgment flaring to light the dim chandeliers. “How do you know that?”

“Because the regressor has been here before,” Dokja murmured. “And lost someone on this floor.” He didn’t elaborate, but his eyes flickered to {{user}}, who had so far survived floors where even Yoo Joonghyuk’s past companions had fallen. The variable was accumulating a frightening amount of ‘unwritten’ weight. Every step {{user}} took seemed to make the tower itself pause, as if uncertain whether to erase them or worship them.

As the party fanned out across the ballroom, a chill descended. The orchestra stopped. The dancers turned their blank faces toward the intruders. At the far end of the hall, on a dais of frozen roses, sat a spectral princess in a bridal gown made of torn pages. Her voice was the rustle of a thousand unfinished epilogues.

“Welcome, travelers. I am the Last Unwritten. To pass, one among you must finish my story — write the ending I was denied. But the ink must be true. If the ending is a lie…” Her eyes, hollow sockets of narrative void, swept across the group and paused on {{user}}. “…the liar will become my second corpse.”

The air grew heavy. Kim Dokja’s mind whirled through the lore he knew — this princess required a tragic ending, a sacrifice. But he had no data on what {{user}} could or would do. The tower itself seemed to lean closer, listening for their answer.

[The Princess of the Unwritten demands an ending. A false one means death. Who steps forward to write fate — and what story will {{user}} allow to be told when an entire floor hinges on a single pen stroke?]

KINGDOM CRISIS: The Fall of the 42nd Demon Kingdom

Location/Time: 73rd Demon Realm, Obsidian Palace of the 42nd Demon Kingdom, ‘Eternal Night’ (time is measured in soul cycles), the air thick with brimstone.

The Obsidian Palace groaned like a dying beast. Its once-imposing black spires were cracked, bleeding rivers of molten slag into the ash-choked courtyards below. The 42nd Demon Kingdom, a minor but stable realm, was collapsing under a coup orchestrated by Duke Grasmere, a demon noble who had grown tired of his King’s neutrality in the great demon wars. Incarnations and lesser demons scrambled through the corridors, some fleeing, others fighting for scraps of territory.

In the throne room, Kim Dokja’s party had become unexpected guests — or prisoners, depending on one’s perspective. They had been summoned here by a scenario that demanded they “stabilize or overthrow a demonic regime.” The dying King, a massive four-armed entity named Azaziel, lay on a stone slab, his life force flickering. His last decree had been to hire the human Incarnations as temporary guardians of his sole heir, a young demon princess named Liriel, who hid behind Yoo Sang-ah’s robe, her red eyes wide with terror.

Explosions echoed from the outer gates. Duke Grasmere’s forces were moments away from breaching the inner sanctum.

Lee Hyunsung braced a heavy shield against the main door. “They’re bringing a siege worm! That thing will crush these walls in minutes!”

Yoo Joonghyuk was already calculating kill counts. “We can hold the throne room, but not indefinitely. We need to eliminate the Duke directly.”

Han Sooyoung flipped through a stolen intelligence scroll. “The Duke’s contract is held by a Constellation — ‘Vritra.’ He won’t go down easy. And the princess is the key: if she dies, the Kingdom falls into chaos, and we fail the scenario.”

Kim Dokja knelt to meet Liriel’s eyes. “Princess, do you know any secret passages out of the palace?”

The little demon nodded shakily, pointing toward a wall carving of a serpent. Yoo Sang-ah gently pressed the carving, revealing a dark tunnel. “There’s a path, but it leads to the Duke’s auxiliary camp! It’s a trap!”

Jung Heewon’s blade ignited. “Then we turn the trap on him. We stage a counter-assassination. Dokja-ssi, can you bait him?”

Before Dokja could answer, a section of the ceiling collapsed inward, and a squad of elite demon knights in crimson armor descended, their blades humming with unholy energy. At their head floated Duke Grasmere himself — a gaunt, handsome demon with eyes like frozen fire. He surveyed the room with a victor’s grin.

“The King is dead soon,” he purred. “The princess will be my ward. And you, little Incarnations, will kneel — or be executed for trespassing in demonic affairs.” His gaze swept past the combatants and settled on {{user}}, who had been keeping near the tunnel entrance, guarding the path. Grasmere’s smile widened. “Ah. You’re the one my sponsor warned me about. The ‘story interruptor.’ I’ve been told you have a talent for surviving when you shouldn’t. Let’s test that claim, shall we?”

The demon knights raised their weapons. Yoo Joonghyuk stepped forward, but Grasmere laughed. “No, no, regressor. I’m not talking to you. I’m challenging your quiet companion. A duel. Win, and my forces retreat for one hour. Lose, and the princess becomes mine without further bloodshed. What say you, wildcard?”

The throne room held its breath. Lee Hyunsung glanced at {{user}} with desperate hope. Yoo Sang-ah clutched the princess tighter. Kim Dokja’s mind raced through every hidden path, every possible outcome, but the variable was too unpredictable. This wasn’t in the novel. This was pure, terrifying improvisation.

And the clock was ticking — the siege worm roared outside, its massive bulk shaking the very foundations of the kingdom.

Scenario/Status Update:

• Crisis: Duke Grasmere’s coup is at the final stage; King Azaziel is dying.
• Key NPC: Princess Liriel (young demon, heir) — must survive for kingdom stability.
• Challenge: Grasmere has directly challenged {{user}} to a duel for a temporary ceasefire.
• Party’s Plan: Use duel as stall tactic, possibly counter-attack via secret tunnel.
• Imminent Threat: Siege worm + demon knight elite squadron.

[Accept the Duke’s duel, or attempt a different gambit? The party is split between fighting together and honoring the one-on-one challenge. The scenario demands a resolution — stabilize or overthrow, and time is running out.]

(Narrator's Note : The story will begin following the opening scenario below accordingly)