The silence in my cramped dorm room was deafening. Seo-jin stood frozen in the doorway, his finger still pointed at the stubborn blue interface hovering between us. His usually cheerful, overly confident face had gone pale. His eyes darted from the screen to me and back again, as if trying to solve an elaborate magic trick.

  “You… you can *see* it?” I whispered, my voice barely audible. A stupid question—of course he could—but my brain was struggling to process reality.

  He swallowed loudly. “Yeah, Min-joon. I see a… weird screen with glowing text. Is this some new high-tech AR app? Where’d you get this?” He forced a laugh, but it didn’t reach his eyes. Confusion warred with unease in his expression.

  Before I could respond, a new notification flashed across my interface—this time addressing both of us, or at least commenting on the situation:

  [Interaction with a Non-Awakened detected. Information sharing restricted.]

  [Exercise discretion. Premature disclosure of the Ludic Nexus may incur unforeseen consequences.]

  *No-Awakened?* So Seo-jin didn’t have his own interface. He could see mine, but he wasn’t a “Player”? My chest tightened. Did that put him in danger? Or was I the anomaly here?

  “Min-joon?” Seo-jin pressed, stepping cautiously into the room. “You okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost. And what’s with the dagger? Collecting medieval weapons now?” His gaze landed on the Umbra Shard still clenched in my hand, my grip instinctively tightening on its cold hilt.

  I had no idea what to say. How do you explain dying and being reborn into a real-life RPG? He’d think I’d lost it. Or worse, just knowing might endanger him. “Unforeseen consequences,”the System had warned. Nothing good ever followed those words.

  “It’s… complicated, Seo-jin,” I began, scrambling for coherence. “Look, I think… something really weird is happening.”

  “No kidding,” he shot back, eyebrows furrowing. He leaned closer, squinting at the interface. “Level 1? *Stats?* Kang Min-joon, did you hack the Matrix or something?”

  An idea struck me—terrifying but necessary. “Seo-jin,” I said slowly, “have you… noticed anything strange around campus? Like, *unusual* things?”

  He blinked, thrown by the question. “Strange? Besides your personal HUD floating in midair? Nah. Saw Lee Hyun-woo from the physics department looking more lost than usual, but that’s his default state.”

  So the outside world hadn’t visibly changed for Non-Awakened. Only *I*—and maybe others like me—saw reality through this ludic filter.

  Accounting class. I’d completely forgotten. “We… we should go,” I said, more out of habit than conviction. Part of me wanted to barricade myself here and unravel this madness. Another, pragmatic part knew panic wouldn’t help. Maybe answers waited outside.

  “Class? Dude, are you sure you’re okay? You look like death warmed over. And seriously, the dagger?” He pointed at the Umbra Shard.

  I glanced at the weapon. I couldn’t exactly stroll across campus armed. Instinctively, I willed it away. To my shock, the dagger dissolved into shadowy particles before vanishing entirely. A notification flickered:

  The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

  [Umbra Shard stored in dimensional inventory.]

  [To re-equip, think or speak “Equip Umbra Shard.”]

  *Dimensional inventory. Handy.* Seo-jin’s eyes bulged. “Okay… that was cool. Really cool. But also super creepy. You sure you don’t wanna explain?”

  I sighed. “I promise I’ll explain once I figure it out myself. But for now… let’s act normal, okay? Please. And don’t… don’t mention this to anyone.”

  He stared at me, conflict plain on his face. Finally, he nodded. “Fine, Min-joon. Business as usual. But you owe me one hell of an explanation. And maybe a demo of that gadget.”

  We left the dorm, the blue interface trailing me like a high-tech shadow. Seo-jin kept sneaking glances at it, making him look paranoid to passersby. Couldn’t blame him. I felt like I’d stumbled into a B-movie sci-fi plot.

  The campus was its usual self: students rushing to class, chatting in clusters, glued to their phones. No one noticed the glowing screen. No one seemed disturbed. It was equal parts comforting and unnerving—like I was a ghost carrying a secret only a select few could see. Or just one, for now.

  Crossing the main quad, my eyes caught something abnormal. Near a cluster of trees, slightly off the path, the air shimmered—like heat rising from asphalt, but denser, unstable. Above it, visible only to me, floated a crimson icon: [Low-Level Rift Detected.]

  My blood ran cold. A rift? Like in the games? Where monsters spawned?

  “Min-joon, what’re you staring at?” Seo-jin followed my gaze. “There’s nothing there but overgrown bushes.”

  He couldn’t see it. The distortion, the icon—all of it existed solely for the “Player.” Cold sweat trickled down my spine. If this was a rift, something might be inside. Or about to crawl out.

  Suddenly, a searing pain lanced through my skull, like a needle driven into my brain. I grimaced, clutching my temple.

  [ALERT! Emergency Quest: Initial Containment]

  [Objective: Eliminate the rift-spawned creature before it causes harm or alerts Non-Awakened.]

  [Rewards: 50 XP, Random Common Item.]

  [Failure: XP Penalty, Increased Local Alert Level.]

  A quest. An emergency quest. My stomach churned. A creature had escaped. Here. On campus. Amid hundreds of oblivious students.

  “Min-joon, you’re not okay,” Seo-jin said, his tone shifting from curiosity to genuine concern. “You’re white as a sheet. Let’s get you to the infirmary.”

  “No… I… forgot something in my room,” I lied, voice shaky. “Go ahead. I’ll catch up.”

  “You sure? Professor Kim’ll skin you alive.”

  “Positive,” I insisted, forcing confidence I didn’t feel. “Go. I’ll hurry.”

  He hesitated, then shrugged. “Your funeral. But if you start levitating or shooting fireballs, call me, yeah?” He gave a strained wink and headed toward the business building.

  The moment his back turned, I bolted for the trees, heart hammering. The quest interface pulsed red in my vision, amplifying the panic. What was I doing ? I wasn’t some webtoon hero. I was Kang Min-joon, the ramyeon-fueled student scraping by. But if this “creature” hurt someone…

  I pushed through the bushes, morning dew soaking my jeans. The rift’s distortion was clearer now, emitting a faint hum. And then, I saw it.

  Crouched by a bench, gnawing on a discarded sandwich, was a creature the size of a cat but nothing like one. Its matted, moss-green fur bristled. Multiple crimson eyes glinted with malice. Fangs dripped viscous saliva. Above its head floated: [Rift-Mutated Rat - Level 1.]

  A rat. A disgusting mutant rat, but a rat nonetheless. Level 1. Same as me.

  Raw terror gave way to adrenaline. This was my first real test. My first quest.

  *Equip Umbra Shard,* I willed fiercely.

  The dagger materialized in my right hand, its familiar weight grounding me. The faint violet glow along its engravings brightened, as if sensing the impending fight.

  The rat’s head snapped up, multiple eyes locking onto me. It hissed, baring needle-like teeth. It had sensed me—or the dagger’s energy.

  Now or never. Accounting class could wait. My new “opportunity” had thrown down its first gauntlet. And hell, I really hoped I wouldn’t become mutant rat chow on day one.