The sky didn't turn red. It didn't rain blood, and the ground didn't split open to reveal the maw of hell. Instead, the world just... buffered.
Han-ul was sitting in a cramped, 24-hour convenience store in Seoul, staring at a half-eaten cup of instant ramyun, when the first "Glitch" happened. The fluorescent light overhead flickered, but instead of going dark, the light froze mid-flicker—stuck as a jagged, static-filled bolt of electricity suspended in the air.
Outside, a delivery scooter frozen at a 45-degree angle didn't fall. The rider's scarf was stiff as cardboard, caught in a permanent wind.
"What the...?" Han-ul muttered, reaching out to touch the static. His finger tingled with a sensation like needles and ice.
Then, the Blue Screen of Death didn't just hit his computer; it hit the horizon.
A massive, translucent window spanned the entire sky, visible from every corner of the planet. It was clean, corporate, and terrifyingly indifferent.
[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION]
Current Version: Earth v.2026.02
Status: Critical Stability Error Detected.
Solution: Data Scrubbing and Reboot (Patch 1.0) scheduled in: 10 Years.
[INITIATING BETA TEST PHASE]
Selection Criteria: Top 100 Humans (Potential-Based)
Objective: Prepare the species for the "New World" integration.
"Beta Test?" Han-ul whispered, his heart hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird. "Top 100?"
He wasn't in the top 100 of anything. He was a twenty-four-year-old dropout working three part-time jobs to pay off a debt his father had left behind. He was a background character in his own life.
Suddenly, 100 beams of light descended from the heavens. They were blinding, pillars of pure white gold that snatched people right out of their shoes. A famous athlete in America. A prodigy scientist in Zurich. A ruthless mercenary in the Congo. The world watched in a paralyzed hush as its "best and brightest" were abducted by the sky.
But then, a 101st beam fell.
It wasn't gold. It was a flickering, sickly violet, and it slammed directly through the roof of the 7-Eleven, incinerating Han-ul's ramyun and engulfing him in a roar of digital static.
[SYSTEM LOG: ERROR]
Manual Override Detected.
User ID: Kang Han-ul
Class Assignment: [Calculating...]
Error: Warrior Class Full.
Error: Mage Class Full.
Error: Rogue Class Full.
[Compensating for System Glitch...]
Hidden Class Assigned: [THE ARCHIVIST]
When Han-ul opened his eyes, he wasn't in the convenience store anymore. He was standing on a floating platform of obsidian rock, surrounded by a void of swirling nebulae.
Ninety-nine other people stood on similar platforms in the distance, each glowing with magnificent auras. Some held flaming swords; others had staves that hummed with lightning. They looked like gods.
Han-ul looked at his own hands. They were empty.
A screen flickered in front of his face.
Name: Kang Han-ul
Class: The Archivist (Grade: ???)
Level: 1 (Max Level: 1)
Active Skill: [Patch Notes] - View the future changes of the World System.
Passive Skill: [The Glitched One] - You do not exist in the System's combat rankings. Monsters will not perceive you unless you strike first.
"Max Level 1?" Han-ul's voice cracked. "I can't even get stronger?"
He looked over at the "Top 100." A man in the center, built like a titan, swung a claymore that sent a wave of fire into the void. The system announced him as the "Leader of the Vanguard." The others cheered, their faces full of hope and bravado. They thought they were heroes. They thought they were being trained to save the world.
Han-ul swiped his hand, activating his only skill: [Patch Notes].
The blue screen turned a deep, bloody crimson.
[PATCH 1.0 PREVIEW: THE DELETION]
Note 1: The "Top 100 Beta Testers" are not being trained to save Earth. They are being trained as "Boss Monsters" for the New World's arrival.
Note 2: 90% of Earth's surface will be converted into "Mana-Dead Zones" upon reboot.
Note 3: The "Archivist" is a temporary file scheduled for deletion in 365 days.
Han-ul felt the blood drain from his face. The "Heroes" were being raised like cattle for a slaughter they didn't understand. And he, the 101st mistake, was the only person who knew the truth.
He looked at the Titan with the flaming sword, then back at his own "Level 1" status.
"I have one year," Han-ul whispered, his eyes hardening. "One year to rewrite the code before they delete us all."
The training was about to begin. But Han-ul wasn't going to play by the rules. He was going to find the exploits.