The train car was in chaos. People screamed, pushing and shoving as the centipedes continued to pour in from the bridge. Someone tried to force the doors open, but they didn't budge. Another person laughed nervously, a sharp, high-pitched sound that made everyone flinch. "Is this some kind of prank?!" they shouted. "It's not funny!" The echo of their voice bounced off the metal walls, mingling with the skittering of countless legs outside, creating a sickening rhythm.
Phones were pulled out frantically, calls and messages attempted, but nothing went through. "No signal—what the hell?!" one voice cried. "It's the system! It's blocking it!" The glow from the screens cast pale faces into sharp relief, eyes wide, reflecting panic and disbelief.
Voices overlapped, panic spreading faster than the scuttling creatures outside. But through all the noise, one figure remained untouched by the chaos. Saigid's gaze was locked on the floating message in front of everyone:
[Survive until tomorrow]
[Reward: 1,000,000 coins]
It wasn't a game. The air around him felt too heavy, too real, too absolute. People were losing control, screaming, fumbling, trying to fight the invisible restrictions that bound them. Sweat ran down foreheads, hands shook, and yet the creatures outside didn't pause they kept advancing relentlessly, their segmented bodies glinting under the dim train lights.
Then, cutting through the cacophony, a calm, flat voice rang out. "The same as last time."
It wasn't raised, wasn't panicked, wasn't demanding. It was almost bored. Saigid turned his head to see the source.
A man leaned casually against the wall, dark hair falling into his eyes. His posture was relaxed, as if waiting for a train that would never come. Nothing about him suggested tension or fear. It was as if this scene had already played out countless times before.
Saigid's eyes followed him. Something about the man's presence felt… off. The chaos seemed to bend around him, as if the screaming, shoving crowd and the relentless centipedes existed in a separate layer of reality.
In front of him, a glowing panel flickered into existence:
[Yushai's level: Σ]
Nearby, a passenger noticed it and whispered in awe, "What… what is that?"
"A symbol? A level?"
"I don't see that on mine!"
Confusion rippled through the crowd, momentarily overtaking panic. Everyone stared at the figure, trying to understand what they were seeing. The usual cacophony of fear paused for a heartbeat, as if the world itself had taken a small breath.
Then another panel appeared, this one floating in front of Saigid himself:
[Saigid: Level F]
He narrowed his eyes. Level F. The ranking system was real. This wasn't a glitch.
This wasn't a joke. His pulse quickened slightly, a spark of adrenaline crawling up his spine, but his voice remained steady.
Exhaling slowly, he looked back at the man. Yushai still calm, still composed, still unshaken by the chaos around them. There was something almost predatory in the serenity, a quiet mastery over a situation everyone else was barely surviving.
Saigid took a careful step forward. Not too fast, not too slow, keeping his movements deliberate. "You're not surprised," he said quietly.
Yushai glanced at him briefly, lips curling into the faintest hint of a smile. "You are?"
"…Not really," Saigid admitted, tilting his head slightly, feeling the weight of inevitability pressing down like the metal walls around them.
A pause fell over them, the screams and shouts fading into distant noise, like background static. Saigid studied him.
There was no fear, no confusion, no hesitation only certainty.
"You knew," Saigid whispered.
Yushai closed his eyes for a moment, calm as ever, as if waiting for something that hadn't happened yet. When he opened them again, there was a glint a subtle promise that he was the one holding the rules, and everyone else, including Saigid, was still learning to play.