The silence in the sub-basement lounge was a living thing. It was heavy, cold, and broken only by Cheol's whimpering breaths.
Hye-jin's question—"Seo-jun? Is that you?"—hung in the dusty, paper-scented air.
Jin-ho was the first to recover. His 'B-Rank Potential' was more than just a system tag; it was a core of stubborn, arrogant pride. He saw a 'rival'—an 'equal'—not a monster.
"Seo-jun?" he repeated, his voice lowering, his grip on the broken chair leg tightening. He visibly forced his 'bravado' back into place. "What the hell? We thought you were dead. Where did you... what happened to you? You're covered in..." He gestured vaguely at the black, dried ichor on Seo-jun's arms.
Hye-jin took a half-step forward, her hand outstretched, her terror warring with a desperate, misplaced hope. "Seo-jun, your... your eyes... they're... are you okay? You look..."
Cold.Empty.Dead.
Seo-jun knew what she saw. He'd seen that same look in the mirror of his gosiwon, just before he'd left. It was the look of a man who had already been to his own funeral.
He ignored them both.
His gaze, cold and analytical, swept the room. [Monarch's Eyes] active.
[Crumpled Soda Can (F-Rank Junk)] [Flickering Lantern (F-Rank Tool)] [Broken Chair Leg (F-Rank Weapon, 'Ineffective')]
His eyes finally settled on the three of them.
"Have you chosen your Classes yet?"
His voice, a gravelly monotone, cut through Hye-jin's building sob.
The question was so alien, so insane in the context of their terror, that it stunned them into silence.
"W-what?" Cheol stammered, looking up from his knees. "What... what classes? The blue... the blue screens? We... we were too scared! They just... vanished!"
"We're hiding," Jin-ho said, as if it were a brilliant strategy. "Barricaded the door. We're waiting for... for rescuers. The army..."
"The army is dead," Seo-jun said, his voice flat. "The government is gone. There are no rescuers."
"You... you don't know that!" Jin-ho snapped.
"I do," Seo-jun said. He looked at the three of them, these children who, ten years from now, would be S-Rank hunters and his murderers. But today? Today, they were just food.
[Potential: B-Rank.] [Potential: A-Rank.] [Potential: F-Rank.]
Pathetic.
They had A and B-Rank potential, a golden ticket to the new world, and they were hiding in a basement, waiting for someone to save them. While he, the F-Rank Porter, had already climbed to Level 3.
The irony was so bitter it was almost funny.
CRRRRRASH!
A sound from above. Not a small sound. It was the sound of a ten-ton shelving unit toppling over in the main hall, followed by a chorus of triumphant, shrieking Goblin cries.
Cheol screamed, a high-pitched, thin sound. Hye-jin clamped her hands over her mouth, her eyes wide with fresh terror. Even Jin-ho paled, taking an involuntary step back.
"They... they're in," Hye-jin whispered, tears streaming down her face. "They're... they're on the first floor. We're... we're trapped..."
Seo-jun, for the first time, showed a reaction. He tsked in annoyance.
"They're just Goblins."
He turned his back on them.
He began walking, not toward the barricaded lounge door, but deeper into the sub-basement, toward the automated stacks.
This move, this complete and utter disregard for their 'safe' huddle, broke Jin-ho's nerve.
"Hey!" Jin-ho yelled, his voice cracking. "Where the hell are you going? You can't just... you can't leave! The rule is we stick together! That's the only way we survive! We protect each other!"
We protect each other.
The exact same words. The exact same lie he'd used in the dungeon, just before he'd left Seo-jun to die.
Seo-jun stopped.
He stood in the darkness of the aisle, a silhouette against their small, flickering lantern.
He turned his head, just enough to look at them over his shoulder. His eyes, in the gloom, seemed to glow with that faint, purple-ish 'Monarch's' light.
"Who," he said, his voice dropping, "is 'we'?"
He turned fully. He took one step back toward them. Jin-ho flinched.
"You are hiding," Seo-jun stated. It was a judgment. "I am hunting."
He let that hang in the air, let them choke on it.
"You're right, Jin-ho. You're trapped. Those Goblins upstairs, they'll get bored of the first floor. They'll find the stairs. They'll smell... you. They'll find this room. And they'll tear that flimsy door down and eat you, starting with him."
He nodded at Cheol, who promptly threw up on the floor.
"I am not here to save you," Seo-jun continued, his voice like a scalpel. "I am here for a book."
"A... a book?" Hye-jin's voice was incredulous. "You... you're... insane..."
"I'm efficient," Seo-jun corrected. "And my business is on the third floor. Rare Manuscripts."
He looked at the three of them. The future Warrior. The future Healer. The future... corpse.
They were tools. Potential assets. Nothing more.
"So," he said, in the most reasonable, conversational tone he'd used yet. "You have two choices. You can stay here, in your 'safe' room, and wait for the Goblins to find you. You'll be dead by morning. Or..."
He paused.
"Or you can choose. Open your 'System' menu. Select your 'Class'. And follow me."
He saw the flicker of hope in their eyes. He crushed it immediately.
"But let's be very clear. If you follow me, you are not my 'friends'. You are not my 'party'. You are my assets. You do exactly what I say, when I say it. You do not talk. You do not question. You do not hesitate. I am not your savior. I am... your only option."
Jin-ho's face, which had been pale with fear, was now red with rage. His pride was all he had.
"You... you..." he sputtered. "You think you can just... just order us? You're a gosiwon part-timer, Seo-jun! A nobody! I'm... I'm..."
"You're what?" Seo-jun cut him off. "You're a terrified little boy with a piece of wood."
Seo-jun raised his left hand.
['Void's Hand' (Level 3) activated.]
He pulled.
The 15kg of telekinetic force was instant. The chair leg was ripped from Jin-ho's grasp. It flew across the small lounge, past Seo-jun's head, and slammed into the concrete wall behind him with a sharp CRACK.
It shattered.
The lounge was dead silent.
Cheol was staring, his mouth open. Hye-jin's sobs had frozen in her throat.
Jin-ho was just staring at his own, empty, tingling hands. His entire worldview had just been shattered, more effectively than the chair leg.
Seo-jun walked over and calmly plucked his [Ebon Dagger] from its sheath on his belt. The black, stone-like blade seemed to absorb the lantern light, making the shadows in the room deeper.
"That," Seo-jun said, "was magic."
He pointed his dagger at Jin-ho. "That," he said, pointing at Jin-ho's empty hands, "is a splinter."
"I am going to the third floor. I am going to kill anything that gets in my way. And I am going to get my book."
He turned his back on them again.
"Decide. Now."
He began walking into the darkness of the stacks.
He heard a frantic shuffling behind him.
"W-wait!" It was Hye-jin. "Wait! We'll... we'll come! Just... just tell us what to do! How... how do we get the 'Class'?"
"Open your menu," Seo-jun said, not stopping. "Focus. Will it."
He heard Jin-ho's sharp, angry hiss. "Hye-jin! We're not... we're not following him!"
"He has magic, Jin-ho!" she shrieked, her voice breaking. "He has magic, and he's not scared! What do you have?!"
A long, terrible silence.
"How... how do we do it, Seo-jun?" Jin-ho's voice was a low, defeated growl.
Seo-jun stopped. He turned.
"Good. You," he said, pointing his dagger at Jin-ho. "You're a [Warrior]. You," he pointed at Hye-jin. "You're a [Healer]. You," he pointed at Cheol. "You're useless. You're... [Support]. Choose. Now. We're leaving."
"H-how do you know that?" Hye-jin whispered.
Seo-jun's cold smile returned.
"Because I know everything."
He turned and continued walking.
Step. Step. Step.
After a moment, he heard three sets of frantic, clumsy footsteps stumbling to follow him into the dark.
He had his meat shields.