Chapter Text
The life Kim Dokja leads is placed neatly within the confines of the ‘non-fiction’ genre. That was, of course, not always the case. The one year of his schooling experience he looked back on fondly was one such example.
Assassination classroom.
Even if Dokja was still nostalgic, he couldn’t afford to look back. Not when he abandoned the class like he did, not after what he-
He shouldn’t think further on it.
Kim Dokja is a completely normal office worker with nothing to hide beside his embarrassing hobby of reading webnovels. He had a forgettable face, just another cog in the machine. He never did his military service because of a childhood injury. All of his school years were completely normal. One glance at his file would tell you that was the case.
Normal.
It was just another day riding back on the subway when the genre of his life shifted once again.
The scenarios were now reality, and Dokja did what he does best; adapt and keep moving.
Kim Namwoon was fairly easy to take down. Dokja was rusty, but not that out of practice. The kind of training he got was the kind that sticks.
He felt a little bad for not giving the kid a chance to live, but it’s not like he killed him directly. If the highschooler had gone for one of the crickets then Kim Dokja wouldn’t have interfered. Never mind the fact that he wouldn’t have hesitated to deal a killing blow if that’s what it came to.
“How did hyung move like that! It’s like the knife just slid off…” The child that had the bug catcher exclaimed. He ran up to Dokja and held on. Sangah looked like she wanted to say something, but refrained.
“The coins… you can invest them in stats like a video game.” He responded while looking away.
What a perfect lie.
Before anyone could say anything else, the Dokkaebi crackled back into their train car and surveyed the survivors. “Wow what a big group… some interesting results! You lot are now qualified to be supported by constellations. Neat reward for your hardship, right?!” There was a wicked smile on the face of the creature.
A window popped up in front of him with a ding. There were four options available to him. Pretty decent, the protagonist of TWSA had five after the first scenario.
Although he was tempted, Dokja knew that there was only one path he could take if he wanted to make it to the end of the scenarios and abolish them.
He still looked at the constellations that expressed interest in him.
‘Demon-like Judge of Fire’ should be the archangel Uriel… quite shocking to see her here.
‘Abyssal Black Flame Dragon’ is powerful but drives his incarnations raving mad.
‘Prisoner of the Golden Headband’ is the legendary Sun Wukong. He would be a incredible pick too, if Dokja were actually considering it.
Then there was ‘Secretive Plotter’. Kim Dokja, in his many readings and rereadings, has absolutely never seen this constellation before. He was admittedly curious. Not curious enough to actually pick him, but still. There was a good chance this constellation was weak.
They all seemed like they would make good sponsors (with the exception of Secretive Plotter), but Dokja just wasn’t going that route. It was a bit of a shame.
The selection was about to close when a number 5 flickered into existence at the bottom of the screen.
[5. ■■■■■■■■■■]
’error!’
‘this entity is banned from the starstream!’
Just like that, the option disappeared and the selection ended. What in the world was that about?
Dokja couldn’t dwell on it. He needed to get the group away from that psychopath in the neighboring car.
“Hyunsung could you use your ability to break open the doors?”
The rest of the survivors were confused about why they should leave the subway car for the monsters outside. All it took to change their minds was pointing out the bloodbath in the other car and some break-in attempts from the protagonist himself. Soon enough, they were desperate to escape.
It worked out fine when Sangah’s supporting constellation invoked a deus ex machina, but that did unfortunately leave Dokja to deal with Joonghyuk. He wasn’t excited for the meeting, even if he told the others he would be fine and not to worry. The zombies were easy enough to deal with.
He got into the groove of fighting for his life with the knife he pocketed off of Kim Namwoon. It’s been a long time since he’s felt this way, and Kim Dokja can’t deny it’s still as exhilarating as it was back then.
He made it through the crowd eventually, feeling the edges of exhaustion.
[several constellations have taken great interest in you!]
[1,000 coins sponsored.]
Out of the sea of blood splatter, a man stepped towards Kim Dokja.
This man was a regressor, the protagonist of TWSA, and above all a bastard in the eyes of Kim Dokja.
“You.”
He drew his sword. Kim Dokja was good with a knife, but not that good. There was no way he would be able to beat this guy in his current state.
“How did you survive?” Joonghyuk used his spare hand to grab Dokja’s shirt collar and hoist him off the ground.
Dokja contemplated just spitting in his face, but Joonghyuk was necessary to beat the scenarios which means he’s got to make a companion out of this despicable person.
He struggled against the hands at his throat but it was useless. “I know… the future,” Dokja wheezed out.
This made Joonghyuk frown and his eyebrows creased.
[incarnation ‘Yoo Joonghyuk’ has activated skill ‘sage’s eye’]
Yes, the bastard was always fond of peeking into other’s attributes, he thought.
What came next shocked Kim Dokja.
[the skill ‘fourth wall’ has deflected ’sage’s eye’!]
What was this skill? He needed to check his window. A personal skill that can block sage’s eye is no joke.
Joonghyuk was clearly just as shocked as Dokja was.
“…What is your name?”
Dokja really was considering spitting in his face. Seriously. Screw living and companionship, he was going to punch this guy sooner or later.
Joonghyuk squeezed harder. “Name,” he demanded.
Now Dokja was actually choking. Joonghyuk let go just enough that he could breathe again. Through the coughing, Kim Dokja managed to speak, “If you make me your companion, I will bring you to the end of scenarios. My name is… Kim Dokja.”
The grip slackened even more. It seemed that the regressor was thinking through something.
A cruel smile graced Joonghyuk’s face, “If you really know the future, will I let go of you?”
So that’s the game he was going to play? Dokja returned with his own smirk, and with all the bravado he could muster, replied: “Let go of me you bastard.”
This was the correct answer to the riddle. With a rush of wind, Dokja was free falling. In a snap he was eaten whole by an ichthyosaurus.
Inside the stomache smelled of rot and blood.
It looks like he was to have a rough couple of days ahead of him.
It was grueling, but he did eventually escape the sea serpent’s insides more or less intact.
He was tired, and his arms felt like they’d been put through a steam roller. There was good to come out of the situation though; mainly, the dokkaebi bag.
It was night time when he finally got out, putting the crescent moon on full display. The moon should be collapsed, just rubble held loosely together, but here it was. Restored to what it looked like back when he was in e-class, as if a single day hadn’t passed.
Kim Dokja spent what was probably way too long staring. Breathe in, breathe out. He turned away and got to work, he couldn’t reminisce forever, after all.
What a pathetic man he was.
…
In his old apartment, Kim Dokja dug through his stuff.
Most of it couldn’t be used during the apocalypse, but there was something he needed desperately to keep safe. In the scenarios nothing could actually be protected completely, nevertheless Dokja would try.
Hidden in the back of a random drawer, is a green knife. The material is a strange plastic, and the knife itself can’t actually cut anything it’s not supposed to. He justifies the retrieval to himself with the rationale that it could be very useful if he went against anything antimatter.
[would you like to activate exclusive skill, ‘hidden weapon’ lvl. 1?]
Huh?
With hesitation, Dokja clicks the small ‘yes’ under the notification.
[current slots available: 0]
The knife rippled, and in the same blue tone as the windows, dissolved.
With some fiddling, he managed to pull the knife back out of the skill. So it was some kind of inventory storage skill? That seemed nifty.
He let out a resolved sigh, then put the monkey lung back in his mouth and turned to face the poisonous gas outside. There were a couple more errands to run before he could go to the safety of a subway station. Namely, get some new clothes.
The apocalypse, as expected, sucks.
…
When Kim Dokja had just been about to enter his second year of middle school, a weird letter came in.
It offered for him to become a foreign exchange student at, what was apparently, a very posh Japanese middle school.
Here’s the issue: Dokja never applied for any kind of international student program.
As soon as his relatives that he had been living with realized that meant he’d be out of their lives, they verified the letter was real and started paperwork to get rid of him.
To be honest, Kim Dokja didn’t mind that fact at all.
It was a little strange that such an offer was out of nowhere, but with the release of that book his life here had been hell. Sometimes… he wondered if it was worth it to continue on.
Going to a place where everyone hadn’t read that book was a dream come true; Dokja felt like he could make it work.
Japanese felt clunky on his tongue, and he still had to ask people to slow down sometimes, yet some how he managed.
His host family was nice enough.
At Kunugigaoka, things went alright for the first part of the year- that was until the bullies sniffed him out. Dokja was not, in fact, fluent enough to be able to defend himself properly to the principal. His grades weren’t stellar, either.
He promptly got sent to the end class, and Dokja wouldn’t know the weight of that decision for months.
E class was in a run-down shack at the top of a mountain, and an absolute pain in the ass to get to.
His classmates were alright he guessed. They didn’t really care to take the time to be understood by Dokja or understand him, so he pretty much didn’t talk to anyone.
Yukimura-sensei was a gift from god on this green Earth; she was patient, kind, and when Dokja asked stupid questions she would gently explain.
The rest of the year went by just fine for Kim Dokja, he did his work and tried his best. He was getting decent at Japanese, and climbing up the mountain each day wasn’t so hard anymore.
Then the moon exploded.
And Yukimura-sensei went missing.
Finally, the next time he entered the E class building, there was a new teacher.