Chapter 1
The ceiling of the National Assembly building shattered and was remodeled into an arena.
The game had begun. Players from other worlds had been summoned for it.
“Argh! Not even here is safe!”
The politicians hiding in the Assembly tried to flee but were slaughtered.
Yet, no one rejoiced at their deaths—because the same thing was happening everywhere.
Gyeongbokgung. The Blue House. The Han River…
Across Seoul—across the world—the game had opened.
A deadly game in which the participants would have to risk their lives.
The colossal force that unified dimensions—the Stream!
Within the Stream, games were serious business.
The weak were destined to perish.
From across the vast universe, countless spectators tuned in.
The arena event being hosted at the National Assembly was brutal, which only fueled its popularity.
Bets poured in on who would win.
Greed and frenzy ran wild.
What, the Earth server is still alive?
That backwater planet is still hanging on?
You don’t get it. Earth isn’t just some pushover frontier.
Gotta admit, they’ve got persistence.
They’re trash, but they grow fast.
Since joining the Stream, the Earth server had endured for quite a while.
Humanity had done everything it could to strengthen its combat power.
Even so, on average, they were still as soft as tofu.
“Yesss! Lucky roll! I got assigned to the Earth server! Time to farm them easy!”
The summoned players from other worlds were vicious.
Though their home planets were tens of thousands of light-years away, the Stream’s power allowed them to cross over with ease.
Before the Stream, the entire universe was one.
And today, the otherworld players brimmed with confidence.
After all, Earth was just a scrub-tier server.
Just looking at the fate of those politicians, running with their golden badges only to be crushed, proved Earth’s level.
“They all died just from the ceiling collapse! Earth’s rulers really are as weak as the rumors said!”
“That’s what you’d expect from a backwater race.”
“I heard on Earth they vote to choose their king.”
“What’s a vote? Some kind of duel?”
To the otherworld races, Earth’s culture was laughable.
From their method of selecting rulers to their way of running society—it was the height of inefficiency.
Humans were nothing but peace-rotted weaklings.
Soon after, the Earth players were summoned.
Forced into the game, they instinctively tried to escape the arena.
But one must not forget—where exactly could Earthlings run when the game was taking place on Earth?
This star was both their homeland and their grave.
‘Whew… fortunately, it seems no one from Cheon-Yul is here.’
The otherworld players sighed in relief.
Humans were weak, yes—but there were always exceptions.
And above all, they had to be wary of the group called Cheon-Yul.
Any human affiliated with Cheon-Yul fought like a rabid hound.
“Did you know? Cheon-Yul is apparently… a company.”
“A company? What’s that?”
“Pfft, don’t you know? A company is the same as a corporation.”
“Oooooh.”
The alien players gasped at such profound knowledge.
“Wait, then what’s a corporation?”
“That much I’m not sure of… but I do know this. The Cheon-Yul humans call themselves office workers.”
“Aha! Then this ‘company’ or ‘workplace’ must be a place of great torment, if it can produce such murderers.”
“No doubt about it.”
The terrifying office workers of Cheon-Yul!
But even office workers had a weakness.
If a certain word was spoken, Cheon-Yul employees became pathetically frail.
Just hearing it could leave them gasping for air, on the verge of collapse.
Not that they would even need to resort to that today—the current Earth players seemed like nothing but fodder.
“Heh. This’ll be easy. Let’s bet on who kills the most Earthlings!”
Squelch—
One of the otherworld players dropped dead.
His throat had been skewered by a blade.
A flag rose above the arena—bearing the dreaded mark of Cheon-Yul.
The supposedly weak Earthlings revealed their true colors.
“We were fooled! They’re Cheon-Yul!”
“Slaughter them all!”
The command thundered out.
Cheon-Yul’s assistants and managers, who had been suppressing their bloodlust, revealed their true nature—bloodthirsty killers.
The weak act was just a smokescreen.
And that wasn’t all.
Heh-heh-heh…
Cheon-Yul’s office workers were born slaughterers.
Their smiles were anything but human.
The otherworld players were driven into a corner.
There was only one way to survive.
“C-Chief Secretary Lee Si-hoon!”
That name—Lee Si-hoon, Chief Secretary.
The magic word to suppress Cheon-Yul’s office workers.
As the rumors said, they froze instantly.
Their killing spree stopped. Their strength plummeted.
Some even wheezed, clutching their throats.
What was Chief Secretary Lee Si-hoon?
How terrifying must he be, for just his name to reduce these monsters to this?
“Damn it! Who said that name?! I thought he was actually here!”
The office workers quickly realized it was a false alarm.
Enraged, they attacked three times more ferociously.
The otherworld players couldn’t even die cleanly.
For daring to utter that man’s name, they were butchered in ways too cruel to describe.
The game ended.
Earth had won—by a landslide.
The ordinary Earth participants looked upon Cheon-Yul with awe.
Truly, the heroes of Korea—the mighty Cheon-Yul Group!
“Proceed with the tasks.”
But the office workers of Cheon-Yul didn’t celebrate.
Instead, they pulled out laptops, filing reports and gathering loot.
Clack. Clack-clack.
The mechanical sound of typing echoed eerily.
“Cheon-Yul sirs! Thank you for saving us—”
“Shut your mouths.”
The reply was ice-cold.
“If you survived thanks to us, then scram quietly. You dirt-poor commoners stink of soil. Pathetic peasants…”
“I want to run them over with a dump truck, Manager!”
“Assistant Park, you always know what I like.”
The survivors were stunned.
Every single one of them was rotten to the core.
“Manager, I think we’re screwed. We won’t even meet the bare minimum quota this month…”
“I know. Especially with so little loot delivered. If our performance falls short again, the Chief Secretary will—ugh.”
“I have an idea.”
“Speak.”
“What if we… butcher these useless humans and strip them for items?”
“…Harm innocent civilians just for loot?”
A brilliant plan!
The office workers slapped their knees in delight.
They rose, gazes sweeping over the survivors as though pricing slabs of meat.
These were born killers.
Ordinary people were nothing to them.
“Good brainstorming, Assistant Park.”
“Aw, thank you, Manager.”
“I’ll recommend you for top performance this quarter.”
“Really?! Thank you so much!”
Cheon-Yul’s banner fluttered.
The survivors’ throats went dry.
Their instincts screamed—this wasn’t a joke.
Why hadn’t they recognized them earlier?
Every single one of these Cheon-Yul employees was infamous.
A singer ruined by repeated DUIs.
A chaebol heir jailed for drug abuse.
An idol disgraced for catastrophic school bullying.
Each one had made national headlines.
Of course they’d be capable of this.
“—But what if the Chief Secretary finds out?”
That comment came from the youngest employee.
And with that, the villains faltered.
Stumble.
Chief Secretary Lee Si-hoon.
The second-in-command of Cheon-Yul.
A man without mercy.
A villain so terrifying he was the stuff of nightmares.
Every employee carried PTSD from him.
They sweated buckets, feeling as if he were watching them from the shadows.
And so, they began their confessions.
“I am happy. I am happy. Because I am Cheon-Yul, I am happy.”
“IamsorryIwasbornIamsorryIwasbornIamsorryIwasborn—”
The survivors were awestruck.
It was like witnessing Sun Wukong grovel under his headband curse.
Who on earth had broken these villains so completely?
“Who is this Chief Secretary Lee Si-hoon?”
“Eeeeeek! Don’t say his name!!”
Overcome with terror, the Cheon-Yul employees abandoned their evil scheme and returned to paperwork.
“Let’s just work. Gotta get off on time.”
Their eyes were sunken, their necks hunched forward.
They were the very image of overworked Korean office workers.
“That bastard Lee Si-hoon set the performance goals way too high. It’s insane.”
“I want to quit this hell company. Somebody, let me resign already.”
“Assistant Park, that’s your first sword? Did you lease it?”
“Yes. Chief Secretary gave me a loan at 39% interest… I’m revolving the payments for now.”
“At your age, already sword-poor? You’re screwed. Now you’re locked in long-term. I got shackled by a Windforce Bow loan—still got 12 years left.”
“But he told me, with my skill, I’d pay it off quick!”
“Ha. That’s what I thought. Fifteen years later, I’m still here.”
“…Ah.”
The killers wept bitterly.
To an outsider, they looked less like villains and more like corporate slaves being exploited.
“Um… cheer up.”
The survivors even began to comfort them, pity rising in their hearts.
“My younger brother runs a barbecue place. If you come, we’ll give you free samgyeopsal…”
“Team dinner? Is it company dinner tonight?”
The killers’ faces brightened instantly.
And so, even at the dinner table, their grumbling continued.
Their only toast was the same line:
“Somebody please, for the love of God, kill that bastard Lee Si-hoon…”
But only one person in the world could do that—
the Chairman of Cheon-Yul himself.
“Chairman, what the hell are you doing?”
The old man. He really went for it.
My legs gave out, and I collapsed.
This was the secret archive of the Cheonyul Group.
A lavish place stacked with martial arts manuals and treasures.
And, judging by the situation, my grave-to-be.
The chairman’s swordsmanship never missed its prey. Unfortunately, this time, I was the prey.
Splash.
Blood poured from the stab wound in my stomach.
“I devoted my whole life to Cheonyul. And now, you’re suddenly tossing me aside like this? I’m really hurt.”
“Director Lee… you’ve done very well until now. But from here on, there’s not much left for you to do.”
So, it finally came.
I shut my eyes tightly.
Not even five people in this world could access this secret archive. I was one of them.
Recognized by the chairman himself.
A loyal retainer of the owner’s family.
Cheonyul Group’s Chief Secretary, Lee Si-hoon.
That was me.
Which is why this was only natural. I wasn’t family, yet I knew far too many secrets.
It was simply time for disposal.
Drip, drip… my blood stained the martial arts manuals, and the chairman frowned.
Even in this situation, he was a remarkably handsome old man.
“Don’t make a mess. Just die quietly. You know even the janitors can’t come in here.”
“Oh dear, my apologies. Looks like you’ll have to mop this up yourself, Chairman.”
I deliberately waved my hand to splatter more blood around the archive.
The chairman let out a heavy sigh—then really did start wiping the place down himself.
“But you dodged well. I was aiming a good three millimeters closer.”
“I’ve got a good eye, don’t I? Or maybe you’re just getting too old, Chairman.”
“Hah.”
The chairman laughed coldly.
A laugh drier than the Arctic night sky.
“You’re the only one who’s ever dared to talk to me like that, Si-hoon. Gutsy. Full of venom. If you’d had a combat class, you would’ve been a great success.”
The old man was mocking me.
Because I was an Interpreter.
— 「Curse Activated」 —
Interpreter’s Curse.
Combat Power is fixed at 0.
Interpreters had no combat ability. Yet, they provided infinite value to others. An endlessly giving supporting role.
And I was good at it.
There were countless interpreters in the world, but none who worked as obsessively as I did.
Any item others failed to interpret always ended up with me. I was like a universal key—able to decode everything.
…And now even praising myself felt pointless. My body temperature was dropping.
At least one piece of good news arrived.
— 「Match Over」 —
National Assembly Arena Game
Winners: Earthling Players
(Casualties: 0)
Whew. I let out a breath of relief.
Once again, destruction was postponed.
“Si-hoon, are you really happy about that while you’re dying?”
“Planning Team 3 pulled it off. Good thing I dumped the task on Manager Cho.”
“That team’s got a rough edge. You handled them well.”
“That’s what you pay me for. And compared to others, Planning Team 3 is actually tame.”
Drugs? Assault?
Petty crimes like those—being a triple offender wouldn’t even match the Cheonyul average.
Villains tended to adapt well to apocalypse scenarios, which is why our group preferred villains.
Cheonyul was the ultimate form of a black company.
A black conglomerate.
“I hear complaints in the company. That you push the employees too hard.”
“My call. You gave me full authority, remember?”
And besides, you pushed me too.
Bzzt bzzt. My phone rang.
It was Manager Cho, fresh from victory.
I gestured to the chairman for permission and answered. Just wait a little before killing me.
Manager Cho’s report followed.
“Yes, Manager Cho. Got your message. The National Assembly damage was minimal. Expect a promotion next quarter. No—your whole team is getting promoted!”
Noise erupted on the other end. Probably celebrating over drinks.
It was good for teammates to be close.
I got to the point.
“Oh, right. You’ll probably have to come in this Sunday too.”
Silence.
It was like a funeral on the other end.
“Don’t misunderstand. I’m not forcing you. Really, you can rest. …What’s that? You’ll come? With the whole team? Oh dear, now I feel bad. Mm. All right.”
I ended the call.
The chairman seemed genuinely impressed.
“Remarkable. Those people aren’t the type to listen.”
“Well, in the end, everyone listens to me.”
“The employees, sure. But what about my grandchildren? They’re sharp-edged kids. Yet, in front of you, they just cower.”
Ah, the chairman’s grandchildren…
They were hopeless delinquents.
Talented, but absolute trash.
I’d barely managed to rein them in, but it was too late to save the world.
Humanity was now hanging by a thread. Barely holding out on the Stream.
If I’d convinced and subdued those brats sooner, there might have been a chance to turn things around.
But it was a pointless regret. Our destruction was already sealed.
“Enough chit-chat. Let’s get to the real issue…”
The chairman crouched to meet my gaze. I wanted to rip his throat out, but my body wouldn’t move.
— 「Curse Activated」 —
Interpreter’s Curse.
Combat Power is fixed at 0.
Interpreters had no talent for combat.
A shame. If I’d known it would come to this…
As chief secretary, I should’ve…
…skimmed off more!
“Tell me honestly, Si-hoon. How much did you embezzle from that position?”
“Oh dear, what a question. That’s too difficult. Got a hint for me?”
“I hired the best law firms and private investigators to expose your vile embezzlement habit.”
“And what did they find?”
“Not a speck of dust.”
I had a secret taste.
When I embezzled…
…I got excited.
…Oh, Lord.
“You must have built a fortune. Enough to buy a U.S. state, at least. But your accounts and properties were completely empty.”
“I’ve always been frugal, haven’t I?”
“So where did it all go?”
“I invested it in my dream.”
I had a grand dream.
And this time, the embezzled goods were on another level.
“Chairman. You’re looking for that item, aren’t you? Too late. I swallowed it.”
“Hmph. Did you forget? I’m the one who raised you to chief secretary. Half a day and I’ll find it. Let’s not trouble ourselves unnecessarily.”
“Mmm~ you’ll never find it.”
My greatest embezzlement prize.
It was a martial arts manual.
The original text of Cheonryu Divine Art.
The most precious book in the universe.
Rumored to contain <Martial Arts That Can Turn Back Time>. The very manual sought desperately by even the greatest masters of the martial world!
In truth, it wasn’t far away. It was right in front of the chairman even now. Which meant it wasn’t in this world. Because Cheonryu Divine Art—I…
Haha.
The ever-so-clean chairman who even wipes the floor himself.
I won’t tell you. You’d faint if you knew.
