Chương 5: AetherBlade

Gray made his way through the deserted streets of Hongdae, holding both daggers in a shaky, amateurish defensive stance. The district, normally alive with college students, indie bands, and K-pop blasting from storefront speakers, had become a hollow ghost town. Before they parted ways, Gray swallowed his pride and asked Nabi if she wanted to team up. The Blood Reaper rejected him outright, insisting he'd only slow her down.

Then, with a dismissive smirk, she added that her mentor had worried for nothing—as Gray could clearly take care of himself. Several blocks later, the cramped urban streets opened into a broad intersection dominated by a massive department store at least ten stories tall. Its front windows had been shattered, and the automatic doors hung crooked in their frames. Entering a huge building where dozens—if not hundreds—of participants or monsters could be hiding was an objectively terrible idea.

But the potential reward was equally enormous. If anywhere in the city was likely to be packed with usable equipment, it was a department store. And if Gray wanted any chance of catching up to participants like Nabi, he couldn't keep avoiding every risk that crossed his path. He stepped inside. He instantly regretted it.

Name: Shota Kotetsu Class: AetherBlade Level: 2 Rank: Awakened Ladder Rank: 1 Gray spotted the man moments after passing through the ruined sliding doors and rounding the corner into the food court. Shota stood alone in the center of the vast mall. He appeared to be in his early twenties, with pale, flawless skin that gave his sharp features an almost delicate quality.

His black hair was parted down the middle, framing his pronounced cheekbones, while the back flared into a wild, unconventional wolf cut that tapered all the way down his spine. Twenty goblins surrounded him. The creatures formed a loose ring, snarling and brandishing rusted swords and jagged daggers as they gradually closed in. Shota didn't move. A slender silver rapier rested loosely in his right hand, while his left remained tucked casually behind his back.

His eyes were closed, his posture completely relaxed, as though he were waiting for the screeching horde to make the first mistake. They obliged. The goblins rushed him from every direction. Shota's eyes snapped open. He stepped into a wide lunge and drove his rapier cleanly through the lead goblin's eye. The creature's momentum carried it halfway up the blade before Shota ripped the weapon free in a spray of dark fluid.

He pivoted smoothly on one heel and thrust again, burying the narrow steel straight through the throat of the next attacker. His movements were a blur of absolute precision, but there were simply too many of them. A goblin leaped onto his back and dug its claws into his shoulders. The others seized the opening, piling onto him from every direction until Shota disappeared beneath a writhing mass of green bodies. He didn't panic or even struggle.

Instead, a mildly annoyed groan emerged from beneath the pile as he thrust his rapier straight into the air.

"Who invented this stupid Earth sport?" Shota shouted, his voice muffled beneath the swarm. The silver rapier shot from his grip and soared ten feet overhead. It spun rapidly along its axis before stopping abruptly, its razor-sharp point aimed directly at the center of the horde. Then it plunged. Like a bullet, the weapon punched through the crown of a goblin's skull and burst out beneath its jaw in a spray of dark gore without losing momentum.

It streaked through the air, pierced the next creature between the eyes, then changed direction and struck another. And another. Within seconds, the screeching fell silent. The entire horde collapsed across the food court tiles, each goblin left with a precise hole punched through its skull. When the final body hit the floor, the rapier halted in midair. With a casual flick of Shota's wrist, the hovering weapon drifted toward one of the corpses and leveled itself against the goblin's ragged shirt.

He twirled a finger, and the blade spun rapidly in place, wiping the blood from its steel against the filthy fabric. Shota brushed off his sleeves and turned his head. His gaze landed on Gray, who stood half-hidden behind a shattered kiosk with his mouth hanging open. Shota raised a hand in a friendly wave, offering a bright smile that didn't reach his cold eyes. Gray swallowed, his pulse pounding in his ears. Ladder Rank 1, he reminded himself.

He took a slow, cautious step backward and returned the greeting with an awkward nod. Then something behind Shota caught his attention. The white tiles at the man's feet began to distort, rippling like the surface of disturbed water. A dark, muddy puddle bubbled up from the floor. A head emerged silently from its center, followed by a pair of shoulders and a torso, until a man sprang fully from the makeshift portal. A jagged dagger gleamed in the stranger's hand as he lunged for Shota's exposed back.

"Behind you!" Gray shouted, jabbing a finger toward the attacker. Shota's smile vanished. He twisted at the waist and glanced over his shoulder. In one fluid motion, he dropped low and swept his leg in a wide arc, striking the assassin cleanly across the ankles. The man's feet flew out from under him. He crashed onto his back, the rear of his skull slamming against the hard tile with a sharp crack. Blood immediately spread beneath his head in a widening dark-red stain.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. Shota rose and casually dusted off his pants. He sighed and shook his head.

"I almost feel bad for not letting him land a single hit. Maybe then he could've died with a tiny shred of dignity." Shota turned his attention back to Gray, expecting a response. Instead, he found him halfway across the food court, cautiously tiptoeing toward the exit like a cartoon character trying not to wake a sleeping bear.

"Hey!" Shota called. Gray froze mid-stride, one leg suspended awkwardly in the air. Pretending he hadn't heard, he carefully lowered his foot without making a sound and resumed his painstakingly slow escape. Shota didn't let him get far. He sprinted after him and closed the distance in a beat, slinging an overly friendly arm around Gray's shoulders.

"Didn't you hear me calling you?" Gray blurted out the first excuse his brain could conjure." Joesonghamnida, yeongeo mot haeyo." He fired off his best Korean, ducked beneath Shota's arm, and sidestepped out of his grasp before offering a deep, polite bow. Shota stared at him with one eyebrow raised.

"You realize the System has an automatic translation function, right?" His expression flattened.

"Why are you trying to run away from me?" Heat crept into Gray's cheeks. He let out a long, defeated sigh as his shoulders slumped.

"Look, I'll just be straight with you." Gray clenched both fists tightly.

"If you're going to kill me, can you at least make it as quick and painless as it was for those goblins?" Shota narrowed his eyes at him for one tense second. Then he burst into genuine laughter.

"Why in the world would I kill my savior?" Gray's eyes widened as a flicker of hope returned to his eyes.

"Oh. I'm glad you see it that way." He nodded quickly.

"In that case, this savior should probably head out and, you know, go save more people." Without waiting for a response, Gray spun on his heel and marched briskly toward the exit. Shota's hand clamped onto his shoulder, stopping him cold.

"Now, hold on just a second. I can't let you leave without rewarding you!" He tapped his chin thoughtfully, his gaze traveling over Gray's lanky frame.

"Hmm. How about I teach you how to fight? You definitely look like you need it, considering how deep you are in the pits of the leaderboard. We can cover some of the basics." Gray's interest immediately piqued, though his suspicion remained firmly intact. Why would the number-one-ranked competitor in this death game go out of his way to help him? Especially over a warning that had accomplished practically nothing? Shota had dodged the sneak attack effortlessly. He clearly hadn't needed saving.

This sudden generosity had to come with strings attached.

"I… really appreciate the gesture, but I think I'll be okay," Gray mumbled, trying to politely shrug off the hand on his shoulder. It didn't budge." Okay?" Shota echoed.

"You won't be okay if you finish this tutorial ranked 8, 453rd." He gave Gray a pointed look.

"Besides, my father always told me that a Kotetsu always pays their debts." Before Gray could invent another excuse, Shota spun him around and marched him back toward the center of the bloodstained food court. Gray swallowed his protests. Rejecting the offer again might irritate the man, and irritating the Ladder's number-one competitor seemed like an excellent way to shorten his life expectancy. It was safer to swallow his pride and play along with whatever Shota had planned.

The silver rapier hovering above the nearest corpse suddenly lifted into the air. It glided smoothly across the food court and stopped inches from Gray's chest, presenting its hilt to him. Gray hesitated, then reached out and took the weapon.

"Use my blade for your training," Shota said cheerfully.

"I'll lure over some fresh targets." Without waiting for a response, he backed up a few paces, then broke into a sudden sprint. Shota planted his foot and punted the severed head of a goblin corpse across the food court. It sailed through the air and crashed into an Uncle Unc's pretzel stand with a loud metallic bang that echoed through the empty mall. The noise worked instantly. Five goblins scavenging inside a nearby NovaBucks coffee shop shrieked in alarm.

They scrambled over the shattered glass counter and charged. Gray instinctively gripped the rapier with both hands like a baseball bat, raising the blade high for an overhead chop.

"What are you doing?" Shota shot him a bewildered look.

"Aren't you from Earth? Do you not know what fencing is? You don't chop with a rapier. You thrust. And use one hand." Gray nodded quickly. He released the hilt with his left hand, shifted into an awkward sideways stance, and pointed the tip toward the approaching horde. The first goblin snarled and lunged within range. Gray stepped forward and thrust directly at its chest. The silver blade struck the monster's sternum with a dull thud.

It barely penetrated the tough hide, sinking only an inch before lodging firmly in place. Shota sighed. He strode up beside the thrashing creature, grabbed the few remaining strands of hair on its scalp, and casually yanked the rapier free.

"Here. It should be easier to practice on a stationary target." He held the screaming goblin at arm's length, letting its body swing helplessly from side to side like a carnival prize.

"Aim directly for the eye." The creature hissed and spat, claws raking uselessly through the air, but Shota's iron grip kept its head completely still. It was an absurdly easy target. All Gray had to do was extend his arm and drive the point through its yellow eye. He thrust. You have slain [Goblin] +1% EXP | +10 CP The goblin went limp. Shota tossed the corpse aside like a discarded rag and immediately seized the next charging monster by the neck, shoving it toward Gray.

Caught off guard by the sudden weight, Gray threw out an arm to brace himself and trapped the creature in a sloppy chokehold. It bucked violently against him, hot breath and spittle spraying across his cheek. Gray gritted his teeth, and drove the silver blade through the soft tissue beneath its jaw. You have slain [Goblin] +1% EXP | +10 CP Shota snatched two more attackers before they could reach Gray, pinning one in each hand and presenting them like practice dummies.

Gray stepped forward and ran them through one after the other, each thrust growing slightly cleaner than the last. With only a single goblin left pacing nervously several yards away, Gray finally voiced the question that had been nagging at him.

"Does this really count as training?" he asked, wrenching the rapier free from a collapsing body.

"All you're doing is serving them up on a silver platter." Shota gave a firm nod.

"You're right. Proper combat training would be much more technical—footwork, parrying, stamina management, positioning." He tapped an imaginary watch on his wrist.

"But we're working under a time crunch. What I can teach you in this short window isn't how to fight."

"It's how to kill." His voice dropped to a low pitch. Gray swallowed hard. The playful edge had vanished from Shota's voice.

"The most important skill you Earthborn need to learn right now is the willingness to take a life," Shota continued.

"That is the key to surviving this competition—and the world waiting beyond it. Most of the participants near the bottom of the Ladder stay there because their morality paralyzes them. They're too afraid to confront the Riftborn summoned for this death game, so they hesitate until fear makes the decision for them."

"Well, obviously!" Gray shot back, tightening his grip on the rapier.

"Nobody here is used to killing things! Unless you're some kind of serial killer…" His words trailed off. Gray narrowed his eyes and took two very cautious steps backward. Shota placed a hand proudly over his chest.

"I am a serial killer, yes. Just not in the deranged way you Earthborn tend to use the term." Gray's face twisted into a scowl, momentarily setting aside the casual confession.

"Why do you keep throwing around this 'Earthborn' thing? Are you not from Earth?" Shota cracked an amused grin.

"No. I'm not from that barren planet.

'Earthborn' is what we Astorian's call people native to your world. I assumed the meaning was fairly obvious." He gave a lazy shrug.

"Anyway," Shota continued, "if you intend to survive long enough to assimilate into my world, you need to numb yourself to the act of killing. Besides, these goblins aren't even real. They're mindless simulations created by the System specifically for this tutorial phase." To prove his point, Shota strolled over to the final cowering goblin. He grabbed the creature by the top of its head, planted his palm flat against its crown, and squeezed. Its skull burst like an overripe melon.

Bone fragments and dark gore splattered across the food court tiles. Gray gagged reflexively and jerked his head away, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth.

"I don't really count these goblins as actual kills," Shota said, completely unfazed by the gore dripping between his fingers.

"For that, you'll need…" His gaze shifted toward the participant on the floor. Shota crossed the food court and crouched beside the motionless man. He tilted his head and lowered an ear near the stranger's mouth. Still breathing. Shota seized the man by the back of his collar and hauled him upright with one hand. The unconscious participant hung limply in the air, his shoes dangling inches above the blood-slick tiles.

"…an actual human." Shota turned toward Gray and held the helpless man out between them.

"Kill him."