30 years ago, Earth experienced The First Cataclysm. The first dungeon appeared at the heart of Seoul, South Korea. Monsters of all kinds imaginable and unimaginable spawned through the gate of that dungeon, and as one might expect from green tribal men with teeth disheveled and abundant like a shark’s, many civilians died. Luckily, those first monsters to appear—goblins—were vulnerable to firearms. At least the stereotypical short ones were. But soon after the first dungeon appeared came many others. Goblins were the least of humanity’s worries.
It was a time predating my presence in the world, but struck right around my parent’s childhood.
Based on the stories I’d heard from the noona next door, it was a hectic time that resulted in mass pandemonium. And through these crises, like always, heroes with great power arose to subdue the chaos. Those were the Hunters of Korea, who hunted monsters to extinction, even to the point of entering dungeons to pull them out from their roots. And as it turned out, just like the hunter’s magical powers that appeared out of thin air, monsters appeared without cause in dungeons as a cradle. There was no such thing as eradication so long as those dungeons existed to spawn more of them.
My parents identified as one of the first hunters, and I knew that because they were dead. It wasn’t that they told me themselves, but the fact that my life as early as I remembered began at one of those government-funded orphanages with the purpose of housing children of deceased hunters.
All the children at the orphanage ended up manifesting supernatural abilities, or traits, as they were now called. I was the exception.
Unlike my peers who went on to the profitable occupation of hunting by attending specialized academies in lieu of normal schooling, I now lived the life of an average man, working shifts from seven in the morning to seven at night, clocking in to an average of 80 hours a week from overtime, which was barely enough to sustain rent in Seoul, the current utopia of the world post-cataclysm. It was one of the only places in the world with hunter academies as well as the founding headquarters of ASH, the Associate Society of Hunters, the global authority on policies regarding hunters and hunting. Surely, that equated to an ultra-safe haven right?
It happened during one late overtime.
I remembered it distinctly as some time past one. I’d enter the staff washroom every few minutes or so to wash the oil off my face as a result of sleep deprivation; having spent the previous night grinding away at a game. It was a popular game inspired off of the real world—in other words, it was a hunting simulation. And reflecting off of real-life, the leveling system was absurdly scaled as well.
For normal people who could only look up to hunters, this was the “I’m just like you,” game.
I could only take the word of actual hunters that leveling up even a single time became exponentially more difficult the higher level you were. Which was why even though I was barely level 50 in the game simulation after two years of playing, I was able to admire the real-life figure of the third globally ranked hunter, Park Soo-Mi who shot up to level 100 in a week since her debut as the face of Korean hunters. In other words, she became one of the richest people of all time in the span of a week.
Crazy.
In my daze, a “customer,” or perhaps more aptly, a shit-faced bastard, waltzed into the store. He wore a simple, ordinary attire unbefitting of a criminal. All black—naturally—though not in the style of a robber, but as a fashion trend. Dark pants and shoes accompanied his winter fur coat adorned with a bright smile on the patch where the logo sat.
He came straight to the counter from the entrance. I had a package of cigarettes ready at the standby assuming it was the only thing a presuming young man would want during the blackest of nights.
That was how it was supposed to be.
“Give me all your money.”
Money this. Money that. Who didn’t need money in this economy?
Despite the blatant demand, he held no gun or knife in hand. In fact, his palms were rather empty with all but some black cotton gloves dressing them. Quite the bravado for a crook with his face revealed. Was it a coincidence that the store’s security camera was outdated?
He was a rogue hunter—was what I would have concluded if I were in the right state of mind. What kind of bastard would host a burglary without a weapon if not a rogue hunter?
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All that was left of my patience as an ace employee escaped me.
“Who the fuck are you?”
Now that I recalled it, it was possible he could have hidden a gun in his coat. I was stupid to provoke him, but unfortunately, my mental fatigue did not allow me to follow the employee handbook with instructions to pray to God and the police to magically appear in such events.
What happened after was a short exchange.
The man raised his hand.
“Give me the money or die.”
I looked at him, stupefied. And a few seconds later, he ticked his tongue in annoyance before performing some sort of movement with his raised hand.
His brows shook, realizing something frightening at that moment. He paused immediately after he casted some magic spell.
Terror grew in his eyes as he then clutched his throat. He collapsed shortly after. I watched on, stunned by the beggar’s stellar performance.
Until it dawned on me that it wasn’t a performance.
[You have slain Sibpal Kim, Human (lvl.18).]
[You have received a title for killing your own kind.]
[You have leveled up.]
[You have leveled…]
[Your existence has been noted in the Akashic Records. You can now view your own records.]
Runic symbols blossomed in my periphery. They were ethereal in the surreal sense, but they were definitely there. Even a blind person could see those words clear as glass despite not knowing Korean and being visually challenged.
From the initial mention of the Akashic Records to the crisp ding of the level-up notification, it was all the same as on the computer screen.
But I had no trait, so I shouldn’t be able to see messages from the Akashic Records.
My dumbfounded gaze lept from the air in front of me down to the collapsed man in front of the checkout counter.
I didn’t know how, but I killed him. The Akashic Records said so. Was there perhaps a hidden power inside me after all? The trait of instant death? No matter how I looked at it, the little shit was dead. And the Akashic Records confirmed me as the perpetrator, as I inherited all his records in the form of level-ups.
I did absolutely nothing to cause this accidental murder, so no guilt or pressure weighed on my shoulders for the sin I did not carry out.
I checked my status as I would normally do in the game, thinking it would provide insight into my current dilemma.
“...Show me my records.”
And to confirm my delusions, it appeared. A screen encompassing about 50% of my vision. Divine imagery stained the symbols to the point where light was all that could be seen when one focused on the runes. When scrutinized with a cursory glance, the runic light squirmed into the shape of legible Hangul.
**********
Kang Cheong-Sin
Type: Human
Level: 9
Title/s: Merciless
Trait/s: Kill Me If You Can (Absolute)
**********
**********
Title: Merciless
Effect: None
Wao. You killed your own kind.
**********
**********
Trait: Kill Me If You Can
Grade: Absolute (Further evolution is impossible)
Effect: All attacks can be deflected (exempt from physical attacks).
**********
‘What the hell?’
I didn’t know if my eyes were seeing right, but according to my status, I did indeed have a trait. And it was a broken one at that—something that no one in this world has seen. Normally there’d be something like “Rare” or “Legendary” next to the grading of the trait, but for me, it was something called “Absolute.” The highest grade possible for a trait in the game was Mythical as that was the highest ever recorded trait by ASH. The top three rankers all had Mythical rated traits as well, proving they were the best of the best. Given that knowledge, I didn’t know how to interpret this irregularity.
Either way, judging by the function of my trait, I was indeed the cause of the shit-faced bastard’s death. In his attempt to kill me with some sort of magic, it was reflected back to him, thus killing himself instead.
It was a broken ability to say the least. While I was excited, I also didn’t care that much having come to terms that I was traitless ages ago. Even though that clearly wasn’t the case now, my work fatigue had reached the tipping point such that it overrode any emotion I was supposed to have, rendering me like a psychopath.
Seeing the foam rise from his mouth, I remembered everything was caught on camera. While it was a shitty camera, it was still a functionable camera that served the purpose of catching employees not working.
It would be difficult to explain if I left the guy there or tried to cover it up, and since the security camera acted as proof that I did nothing illegal, there was no reason for me not to call the police and end my shift with my own judgment.
So I dialed 119. The paramedics came shortly after to collect the corpse.
When asked how he died, I gave a short, concise answer.
“He killed himself.”