Within ten years, the world dies.I've tried to save it twenty times.Every time, I fail.
Sometimes it ends with fire raining from the sky. Sometimes it's the plague that spreads too fast to contain. Once, a god split the moon in half with his sword.
Twenty lives. Twenty deaths.Twenty failures.
And every time… I come back to this moment.
A faint chime echoes in the back of my skull, like an old melody I'm tired of hearing. My eyes flicker open.
[System Awakening…]Would you like to restart, Player Kang Lim?
Same screen. Same font. Same question.
I stare at it for a moment, dry-eyed.If I click "No," maybe I'll finally be free. No more loops. No more pointless struggle.
No more guilt.
My finger hovers over the "No" option.
...But if there's even the smallest chance...
I press "Yes."
The world flickers around me. The cold metal floor beneath me dissolves into light.
Shutting down. Restarting. Progress loading. Estimated wake-up: March 10th, 2026.
1098—/—SYSTEM MALFUNCTION.Unexpected error. Critical update initiated…Upgrading system…Admin privileges unlocked.
"...What?" I whisper. My heart skips a beat."This hasn't happened before."
And then everything fades.
I wake up gasping. Sweat-soaked sheets, the dull glow of my bedroom ceiling light. It's still dark outside. I grab my watch from the nightstand.
3:14 A.M.Three hours before the Trials begin.
Except this time—"System, open."
The words tumble from my lips without thinking. I expect silence. A locked screen, as always.
But it responds.
[Admin Access Confirmed.]Access to system functions granted.
A translucent interface flickers to life in front of me — blue, sleek, humming with energy. My breath catches.It's real. And it's active before the Trials.
My eyes scan the interface.
Skill Purchase Menu: Available Starting Points – 1,000
Usually, I don't see this until after the Trials begin.This... This changes everything.
I type quickly: Appraisal.
[Skill: Appraisal – Cost: 1,000 points – Confirms purchase?]
I slam my finger down.
The skill embeds into my consciousness instantly. It feels like a pressure at the edge of my thoughts — something quietly humming beneath my senses.
With Appraisal, I can detect artifacts containing even the faintest traces of mana.Which is vital. Because mana isn't publicly known. Most people dismiss it as sci-fi nonsense.
But I know better.
Because I've watched what the world becomes.
But there's one problem.
Appraisal doesn't help me unless I can buy something worth appraising.And for that, I need money. More than I have. Far more than a bank would ever lend a nobody like me.
Which is why I walk out my apartment door at 3:30 A.M., into the cold silence of the alley behind my building.
The gang that operates near my neighborhood doesn't sleep. Not when there's business to be done.
Their headquarters is three blocks east — disguised as a rundown mechanic shop called "Jong's Auto Repairs." But everyone who lives around here knows who really runs it.
Ryu Dae-shik.
An ex-MMA fighter turned underground broker. Ruthless. Paranoid. But if you're willing to pay the interest, he'll fund damn near anything.
I step into the flickering neon buzz of the alley. Just as I expected, two of Dae-shik's boys are smoking outside the metal garage shutter, pretending to fix a beat-up scooter.
They spot me immediately.
I raise my voice just enough to be heard over the hum of the streetlights. "I want to meet your boss."
The taller one turns, squints at me. His arms are sleeved in cheap tattoos. "Tch. Get lost, kid. We're busy."
"I want a loan," I say calmly.
He rolls his eyes. "Then go to a bank."
"This one's too big for any bank."
That gets their attention. The other one, shorter but stockier, snorts. "You serious?"
"Dead serious."
They look at each other. A silent conversation passes between them. Finally, the tall one jerks his chin toward the garage. "Fine. Follow us. But don't waste his time."
I nod.
Same words. Same routine. As if scripted.I've heard them every single time.
Inside, the air is thick with grease and cigarette smoke. A desk cluttered with rusted tools sits under a buzzing ceiling light. Behind it, leaning back in a creaking chair, is Ryu Dae-shik.
His nose is crooked from a dozen fights. His knuckles are scarred. One eye never quite opens all the way.
He barely looks up as I step inside. "Name?"
"Kang Lim."
He taps something into a tablet. "Amount?"
"Two million won. Fast."
He raises an eyebrow. "That's not a small loan."
"I'll pay triple within a week."
"You've got guts. I like that."He leans forward. "But what the hell does a scrawny student like you need two million for?"
I answer without hesitation. "An auction."
He laughs. A deep, amused, disbelieving sound. "You betting on a rare baseball card or something?"
Something like that.
By 4:05 A.M., I leave the garage with a thin black envelope in my coat — cash inside, no questions asked.The interest is brutal, of course. But it doesn't matter. I won't need to repay it if the world ends again.
I arrive at the auction venue by 4:50 A.M. It's held once a month in a disused underground lot beneath an old department store downtown. Unlicensed. Cash only. Mostly luxury watches, stolen jewelry, rare coins, and black-market tech. Occasionally… strange antiques that no one can identify.
Which is what I'm here for.
No one knows it, but every few auctions, a mana-infused artifact slips through. To the average eye, it's just an old necklace or rusty blade. But to me — with Appraisal — it shines like a beacon.
This time, I feel it the second I walk in.
The item sits quietly on a velvet cloth in a locked glass case near the back.
[Artifact Detected – Grade: Mythic]Item: ??? – Current Bid: 2,000,000 KRW
I freeze.
Mythic?That's impossible.
In the last twenty loops, I've never found anything above Rare at this auction. Never once.
What is going on?
The auctioneer drones on about some imported Swiss sculpture, but I barely hear him. My eyes are fixed on the artifact — a dull silver ring with a single, cracked red gem.
To everyone else, it's junk.
To me, it's salvation.
The bidding begins. No one even raises a hand for the ring. One man snorts. "Looks cursed."
The auctioneer shrugs. "Opening bid: two million won."
I raise my hand without hesitation.
Silence.
No one counters.
The gavel slams down.
"Sold."
As I walk out of the auction hall, the ring feels impossibly heavy in my pocket — like the weight of a future I haven't seen yet.
Something's changed.
This isn't like the last twenty times.
And for the first time… I feel hope.