Player in a Ruined World – Chapter 003
Character: Buster.
A character with no outstanding abilities and inferior starting stats compared to others.
Back when No Way Home was being played, posts like this would often show up on Yanben:
- “Are people who play Buster just masochists?”
- “A character only used by veteran players who enjoy self-imposed hard mode.”
To casual players, it naturally looked that way.
He had no abilities at all, and even his starting physical stats were severely lacking compared to other characters.
However, if you managed to survive, he became a character with absurdly strong survivability and attack power.
In an apocalyptic world, zombies aren’t the only danger.
Especially in a setting like No Way Home.
Conflicts with survivors, battles with zombies, and threats from all kinds of mutations.
At the core of survival is physical ability.
People say that if you’re dumb, your body suffers—but on the flip side, if your body is overwhelmingly strong, your brain doesn’t have to work as hard.
“Use points.”
[Would you like to move to the point shop?]
“No need. I’ll just raise my stats with points.”
[Activating Buster’s ability.]
[100 points are required per stat increase. Do you wish to proceed?]
“15 each into stamina and agility. 10 into strength.”
[4,000 points consumed. Stamina and agility increased by 15, strength by 10.]
Other characters could only increase their stats through equipment, but Buster could convert points directly into stats.
Since I had received 4,000 points for free at the start, Buster was the obvious best choice.
“Show me my stats.”
[Stats: Stamina 20, Strength 15, Agility 20, Epidermis 5]
The stat called “epidermis” might feel a bit confusing.
It’s also something other characters don’t have.
Here, epidermis literally refers to the toughness of your outer skin.
In a world where getting bitten by a zombie infects you with a virus—what if your skin is tough enough?
Naturally, it means you could become immune to the zombie virus.
The problem is, unless you raise it to a very high level, it won’t withstand a zombie’s bite force.
From multiple tests during the closed beta, I knew that you needed at least 110 epidermis to endure a normal zombie’s bite.
It might sound overpowered, but that’s only enough to withstand a regular zombie’s bite.
And converting that to points? That’s a whopping 11,000 points.
In other words, extremely inefficient.
Armor that can block zombie attacks is sold in the point shop, and can also be crafted.
From a cost-efficiency perspective, epidermis is basically garbage.
But—it had a hidden function.
If you raised epidermis to 100…
No matter what, if you just hit 100…
Buster gains a skill.
And not just any skill—an overwhelmingly powerful one, incomparable to any other character.
The character that seemed useless at first was actually the most overpowered one in the game.
Of course, if you didn’t balance your stats early on, you’d die before even getting that skill—99.9% chance.
So for now, it was better to focus on strength, agility, and stamina for survival and point farming.
Epidermis could be raised gradually as the episodes progressed.
I clenched and unclenched my fists, stood up and sat down repeatedly.
‘Light.’
Was it because my stamina and agility were now 20?
My body felt much lighter than before.
I felt like I could even run a marathon right now.
“Open the coin shop.”
[There are no items available for purchase with your current 1 coin.]
So it won’t even show anything if I can’t buy it?
Should I call that shameless or just ridiculous…
“Are you BJ Gaia?”
[…]
“Who is BJ Gaia? A god?”
[…]
“What do you gain from this? What do you get by putting 8 billion people in danger?”
It was a blunt question.
It had to be.
Out of nowhere, the game had suddenly become reality.
When I first woke up in the fog, I was dazed. When I reached the shelter, I felt wronged.
What crime had humanity committed to deserve playing such a ridiculous game?
The system gave no answer.
As if it had no will.
As if communication with individuals was forbidden.
It was frustrating—but what could I do?
If I couldn’t get answers, I had to find them myself.
I had become part of the system, unable to defy it.
All I could do was clear the game using what I knew.
Ding—
[The first episode will now begin.]
[Episode 1: Safe House—]
“Wait. Answer one thing first.”
I crossed my arms and stared at the system message.
“Korea doesn’t appear in No Way Home. Nowhere in the world does. The setting is fictional.”
[…]
“Was that what the ‘background update’ meant? Did you overlay the game world onto reality?”
[That is correct.]
“Then the knowledge I have about the game… is it useless in the real world?”
[The starting point is a virtual space based on the game’s setting. Upon reaching a shelter beyond a certain distance, you may register your character and begin the main game.]
“I asked if my knowledge helps in reality.”
[Please experience it yourself.]
Damn system.
So… does that mean all survivors from my area would eventually end up in Haengdang-dong no matter which direction they moved?
“Are spawn locations different for everyone? You didn’t cram the entire Korean population into one district, did you?”
[All players are summoned based on their registered address. You are registered as a survivor of Seongdong District.]
“Seongdong District?”
[Emergency episode triggers and progression are counted differently per affiliation.]
[Upon completion of the main episode, all regions will advance to the next phase.]
So the main episode progression is shared across regions?
“If I reach the safe house now, people who haven’t arrived will still move to Episode 2?”
[Correct. Continue to grow so you do not fall behind the main episode.]
It ignored personal questions but answered game-related ones.
So it only responds to game matters?
And it calls this something to “enjoy”? This isn’t something you can enjoy.
[Initiating Episode 1: Safe House—]
[Checking survivors…]
[Reviewing episode…]
Reviewing?
Ding—
[The majority of users have not recognized the situation.]
[Too many users have failed to leave the starting point.]
[Emergency episode activated in all regions.]
Ding—
[Emergency Episode: Qualification for Survival]
[Survive for the given time.]
[Those unworthy of survival cannot proceed to the main episode.]
[Time Limit: 72 hours]
[Clear Condition: Survival]
[Reward: 1,000 points]
[Failure: Death]
I couldn’t close my gaping mouth as I read the message.
Is this thing insane?
“Hey, what the hell is this?”
[98% of users have not left the starting point.]
“……”
[Proceeding with the emergency episode, as continuing the main episode would be meaningless.]
“Of course people can’t accept this! Zombies suddenly appeared—who would—”
[You succeeded.]
“……”
[You are the player who reached the shelter before the tutorial and episode explanation.]
“That’s because I played the closed beta. Others didn’t—”
[Inferior beings have no value in survival. Citizenship in Another World is wasted on them.]
“……”
The system’s cold response made me frown.
“What even is ‘Another World’?”
[Cannot disclose.]
Before I was summoned, a message appeared in the sky.
The fourth game—Another World.
Was that also a game-like world with episodes like this one?
If I had to live in such a place…
I’d rather refuse survival.
Anger boiled inside me.
But there was nothing I could do right now.
Complaining wouldn’t change anything.
It felt like BJ Gaia wanted humanity to die.
“If I clear this game… will I meet the creator?”
[Users who clear the game will receive gifts and citizenship directly from BJ Gaia.]
Good.
Then I’ll survive to the end—and smash the creator’s face in.
I opened my bag and took out a notebook.
I briefly organized the current situation and thought about my next move.
If I was a Seongdong District survivor, then the thousands of people I saw in the rain were all from the same district.
If they all reached the same shelter?
This place would soon be filled with all kinds of people.
Some would be insane enough to enjoy the ruined world.
Some would believe this was divine punishment.
Others would be easily swayed or completely lacking the will to live.
But the worst of all…
‘Those who cling to others.’
People who do nothing themselves but demand everything.
If they formed groups and just talked endlessly?
Just imagining it made my skin crawl.
Sure, I could loot apartments here for food.
But living with people like that would never be safe.
‘It’ll affect future episodes too.’
I had no intention of getting involved in faction conflicts or sacrificing myself for others.
Once I finished organizing my thoughts, I stood up.
Since everyone was summoned suddenly, residential areas should have plenty of food.
So I needed to go somewhere less crowded.
A place I knew well.
A place where it was easy to shake off both zombies and people.
I’d head to the villa district.
I picked up the baseball bat from the floor and walked toward the entrance.
Rain poured down heavily.
I ran through it, constantly checking the smartphone-sized 3D map.
The visibility was so poor that I couldn’t confirm my surroundings with my eyes.
“Graaah!”
Every time a zombie suddenly lunged out of the fog, it made my heart jump.
I quickly stuffed the map into my pocket and smashed their heads with my bat.
This was still the very beginning.
The first episode hadn’t even started yet.
If this place followed the game’s logic, early zombies wouldn’t be that dangerous.
The heavy rain dulled human senses, heightening fear—but it was also an opportunity.
Zombies, with their sharp hearing and smell, would also be affected.
Just as my vision was limited, their senses were weakened too.
Still, moving through main roads felt risky, so I stuck to narrow alleys.
After about 15 minutes…
I began to see the outlines of villas.
This was my neighborhood—I could navigate it with my eyes closed.
My heavy, soaked legs started to feel lighter.
Just a little more… a little more, and I’d reach my building.
“…Huh?”
Then suddenly, something caught my eye.
A signboard.
—Suni’s Gimbap
A snack shop at the corner.
Was this always here?
There was supposed to be a lottery shop here…
Looking around, I noticed something strange.
The layout was the same—but the buildings were different.
A café where a hardware store should be.
An arcade where a café should be.
A mixed-use building where a wedding hall used to be.
Same terrain, different structures.
“Grrr…”
At that moment—
A chilling sound echoed behind me
