Surviving Restructuring-Chapter 26. The Sacrifice (1)
[Your return is complete.]
[You have obtained an audit pass. Check your inventory!]
Eun-Ho let out a sigh of relief that he'd made it out safely. Who would've thought those bees would chase him all the way to the lecture hall?
I wonder if that guy’s okay.
The assistant instructor was probably still back there in the dark, all alone. Eun-Ho would be lying if he said he wasn’t worried.
He’ll be fine. I’m sure. The guy did create the door in the first place, so he should be able to close it too. It might not be easy, but he would be able to manage.
First things first, Eun-Ho needed to deal with his own situation.
He took a breath and said, “Summon.”
[Beginner Swordsmanship Class Audit Pass]
- Activating this pass opens a door to the Beginner Swordsmanship Class lecture hall.
- Only the pass holder may use it.
- Use Limit: Unlimited
Then, a palm-sized green card drifted gently into his hand. It was a special pass that let him jump between places whenever he wanted. At a glance, he could sense the endless possibilities it held.
Let’s see. What time is it?
He glanced at the faint, semi-transparent system window hovering before him.
It was 8:55 PM. Only ten minutes had passed since he had stepped through the door and arrived at the Training Institute.
Time barely moved just as I expected.
The sluggish clock and his complete lack of hunger made it obvious.
I don’t know the exact ratio, but maybe one hour here equals a minute there?
He had spent over ten hours inside, yet only ten minutes passed here. He decided to test the details later when he had time.
Tap. Tap.
“Ji-Eun!”
He let out a quiet breath of relief. She was unmistakably there, turning the corner ahead.
“Eun-Ho!”
Ji-Eun spun around at the sound of his voice, her short hair bouncing lightly over her shoulders. Worry still lingered in her wide eyes, and her lip was caught between her teeth. However, the moment she saw him, her face bloomed into a radiant smile.
Even from a distance, he could read every emotion etched across her features: shock, joy and finally, unmistakable relief.
“I didn’t take too long, right?” he asked.
She beamed. “Nope!”
How could she be this happy?
To him, it had felt like a long time, but for her, only ten minutes had passed. Still, from the very beginning, Eun-Ho had noticed something about Ji-Eun. She was just genuinely fond of people.
“But, uh... What happened to you, Eun-Ho?” she asked, eyebrows raised.
“Me?” he asked, puzzled.
“Yeah, you look like someone who’d just been pulled out from underground or something.” Her eyes went wide as she gestured at his tattered clothes.
Eun-Ho laughed awkwardly, not quite sure how to explain.
Puff!
Right then, a gift box appeared in front of Ji-Eun, topped with a familiar-looking envelope like a little hat.
“Oh my gosh!”
Ji-Eun clapped one hand over her mouth and gently tapped the envelope with the other. It was as if she’d just gotten a reply to a fan letter she had sent years ago.
Swish.
Then, the envelope slowly unfolded.
“He’s alive.”
Tears streamed down Ji-Eun’s cheeks as she closed her eyes tight.
Eun-Ho, who was halfway to her, froze mid-step, uncertain whether to give her space or stay by her side.
Then, slowly, Ji-Eun wiped her tears away and looked up, her gaze steadier now, clearer.
“It’s all thanks to you, Eun-Ho,” she said softly. “I got the message.”
If the news had brought her this much joy, there could only be one explanation.
“It must be from your brother. Is he okay?”
Ji-Eun nodded, emotion welling in her eyes again as she stepped closer to him. “He’s in Noryangjin. Looks like he’s with some friends.”
“That’s a relief.”
“I’m so glad he made it. And it’s all because of you.”
Eun-Ho shook his head as she stared at him like he had personally saved her brother’s life.
It was 9:00 PM. He glanced at the clock without thinking, right as the minute hand struck nine.
“You don’t need to thank me, really—”
[Synchronization rate has slightly increased.]
[Your exclusive Eye is now open.]
A system message rang out—audible only to him—as the space above his head shimmered faintly. The air, once invisible, began to ripple, condensing like beads of water on glass.
It pulsed and twisted—expanding, shrinking, stretching into impossible shapes. Angles and curves formed in midair. Then, all at once, it solidified into a smooth, glass-like sphere. Eun-Ho recognized it instantly, because it was that familiar Eye.
Ding!
[New observers have joined the session.]
[The Crow from the Bureau of Management coughs loudly, claiming they didn’t join out of curiosity.]
[The Prince from the Bureau of Investigation folds their arms and says they are here to see how long the arrogant target survives.]
Their tone practically oozed disapproval. They were clearly pissed off.
It’s probably because of that little curse I let slip earlier.
Whatever the reason, there was a bigger problem now.
Why is this opening now?
The trial was not supposed to start until tomorrow morning. Then, a chill ran down his spine, just as an unexpected announcement echoed through the air.
[Attention all survivors in the Yongsan District. We have an urgent update.]
“What’s going on?”
“But the trial isn’t supposed to start until tomorrow morning!”
[The number of survivors in your region has exceeded the set limit.]
[To ensure smooth trial operation, emergency population reduction will begin immediately.]
“Emergency reduction?!”
[Currently, there are 1,070 survivors in the Yongsan District.]
[The participant limit for the next trial is five hundred people.]
“Five hundred out of over a thousand?!”
That was close to half of the survivors. In other words, one out of every two people had to die.
Eun-Ho clenched his jaw without realizing it. When he turned toward Ji-Eun, he met her worried, wide-eyed stare.
[By the Administrator's authority, the Arena is now open.]
[The Arena will remain open until the number of survivors is within the acceptable range.]
[If the count is not reduced before the next trial begins, excess individuals will be randomly deleted.]
“The Arena?” Ji-Eun murmured.
“It was the same place from that Razor-Beaked Bird trial,” Eun-Ho added.
It was that hellish trial where the ground tilted and fire erupted from every direction. Just remembering it made it feel like the air around them was scorching hot again.
[Brace yourself for impact!]
Babababam—!
A deep rumble surged up from below, shaking the ground under their feet.
Ji-Eun seemed shocked.
“It’s an earthquake! Be careful!” Eun-Ho shouted.
However, this was unlike any earthquake they had ever known. The tremors were fierce and overwhelming, like the ground itself had become a raging sea, crashing in endless waves.
Boom! Rumble! Thud!
All around them, buildings groaned and crumbled, telephone poles snapped like twigs, and structures toppled in chaotic waves of destruction.
[Yongsan District survivors: 1,033.]
[Yongsan District survivors: 1,019.]
[Yongsan District survivors: 1,007.]
...
Just like that, the number of survivors dropped fast.
“We need to get out of here!”
The situation was especially dire for Eun-Ho and Ji-Eun, who were in the heart of the city. Surrounded by tightly packed office buildings, all it’d take was one collapsing in the wrong direction for the whole area to fall like dominoes. Of course, it wasn’t like anywhere in Seoul was much safer.
“Ji-Eun! Head out for the main road. Now!”
Narrow alleys were a death trap, so they tried to go for the open street. However, just then, a four-story commercial building came crashing down right in front of them.
“Eun-Ho! Look out!”
Between Ji-Eun and Eun-Ho stood nothing but a single abandoned car.
“Accelerate!”
“Beeee caaaareeeef—!”
Glass shards froze mid-air, hovering inches from Eun-Ho’s scalp.
Damn, that was close.
He had nearly turned his head into a cactus. With his hardened right arm, Eun-Ho carefully knocked away the shards of glass, slipping out from beneath a building that leaned like the Tower of Pisa.
Tick—!
“... fuuuul!”
Kaboom!
Just as he turned to wave at Ji-Eun to reassure her, a deafening explosion ripped through the air.
Then, the ground lurched, swaying so violently it was impossible to keep balance.
“Accelerate!”
[The skill on cooldown. 38 seconds, 37 seconds, 36 seconds...]
A gaping chasm yawned open beneath his feet. The floor gave way, as if it had been waiting for this moment. The building, the car, and Eun-Ho were swallowed whole.
“No!” Ji-Eun’s scream, echoing from above, faded.
***
“Secretary Kim, you’re coming to the third round, right? I know a good place.”
“Uh, I... Well...”
Ji-Eun thought back to the moment she first met Eun-Ho. It was at their very first company dinner—their first job, first office, and first drinking party.
Maybe it was the alcohol, shared one glass at a time, loosening the nerves. Amid the chaos of the event, her team leader’s heavy hand settled on her shoulder. Ji-Eun felt a quiet, persistent unease stirring beneath the surface.
“Come on, I’ll treat you to something fancy. You’ve probably never had stuff like this back in school.”
Her superior made a suggestion that was hard to refuse, even though it made her uncomfortable.
“Team leader, the executive’s asking for a chauffeur. Should I call one?”
That was when she first met Eun-Ho—a contract worker from the neighboring team whom she had only heard about until then.
“Huh? Isn’t there a corporate driver?”
“He seems too drunk to find the number.”
“Tsk. Fine, I’ll handle it.”
She had heard rumors that Eun-Ho was cold and hard to work with because of his physical condition. However, for someone supposedly difficult, he was too gentle.
“You’re Secretary Kim, right? Now’s your chance. Head home.”
“Huh? But the team leader said...”
“It’s fine. If he asks later, just say you don’t remember because you were too drunk.”
Maybe that was when her quiet curiosity and subtle concern kicked in. When he seemed likely to eat alone, she’d cancel plans just to share a meal with him. And when the world fell apart, he became someone she depended on—a comrade she felt she had survived a war alongside.
Hence why when Eun-Ho vanished beneath the collapsing earth, Ji-Eun’s fragile hold on composure snapped.
“Aaaaaah! Noooo!”
[All the parameters required for skill activation have been collected.]
Please! Just give me something useful!
[Congratulations!]
[Through an exceptional combination of willpower, emotional resonance with a loved one, and a lifetime of deeply ingrained empathy, a Unique Skill has been created!]
[Psychokinesis(Lv. 1) has been unlocked.]
“Psychokinesis!”
The word slipped from her lips before her brain could catch up.
Fwooosh—!
Then, a sudden surge of energy coursed through her, racing to her eyes, her voice, and her fingertips. It was as if every drop of blood in her was being pulled outward, flooding her senses. Her face burned red with the strain.
First, tiny fragments trembled. Then, bits of debris scattered across the road began to lift, slowly into the air.
“Please!”
“W-what?!”
Then, from the hole beneath, a familiar face appeared—rising steadily, as though gravity no longer applied.
“Ji-Eun! Did you just?!”
He was trying to say something, but she couldn’t register anything. Every cell of her being was focused on keeping him suspended.
“Ji-Eun! Watch out! Look above!”
Focus... I have to focus!
Ji-Eun’s eyes were open, but she saw nothing except Eun-Ho hovering above the abyss. Her ears were deaf to everything but her own heartbeat.
Just a little more...!
It wasn’t until she had dragged Eun-Ho to safety and finally let herself breathe that she noticed.
Floating in mid-air, Eun-Ho screamed, “Ji-Eun! Get out of there, now!”
She looked up.
“Please move!”
What she failed to realize was that the building—one that should have remained still—was collapsing right above her.
“E-Eun-Ho?”
Thud—!
The moment she turned to look, the psychic link snapped and Eun-Ho was dropped. He hit the ground, rolled, and immediately scrambled to his feet, sprinting toward her.
“Acceleration! Acceleration!! Acceleration!!!”
It was a desperate dash, but he started the race a second too late.
“Shit!”
“Swearing doesn’t... suit y—”
BOOM!
[Yongsan District survivors: 1,000.]
Babababam—!
The massive concrete facade crushed Ji-Eun.
[Yongsan District survivors: 999.]
