Black ash fell from the night sky like snow of death. Cold wind swept through the cracked concrete skeletons of Seoul, carrying the mingled stench of smoke and rust.
The silence around Mega Mall Seoul was shattered by the deep roar of a V8 diesel engine. Headlights sliced through the gray fog, revealing a convoy of armored vehicles thundering down the main road.
A six-wheeled truck plated in thick steel and spiked ram bars led the way, followed by two four-wheel-drive pickups with light machine guns mounted on their beds. The hellish procession screeched to a halt in front of the mall's parking plaza. Brakes howled. More than thirty mercenaries in blood- and gunpowder-stained tactical gear jumped down, weapons ready—assault rifles, shotguns, and machetes.
A massive man with a scar slashing across his face and tattoos crawling up his neck stepped out of the lead truck's passenger seat. This was Kwang-ho, the former mercenary who had crowned himself warlord of this district. A cheap cigar was clenched between his teeth. He exhaled a plume of gray smoke, his fierce eyes scanning the mall's front.
What he saw was not the open entrance he had left behind the day before. Dozens of wrecked cars had been pushed together into a solid steel barricade sealing the main gate.
"Where the hell did my dogs go?!" Kwang-ho bellowed, spitting blood-flecked saliva onto the asphalt. "Why is the gate sealed like this? What the fuck happened inside?!"
Five mercenaries tightened their grips on their rifles and advanced cautiously toward the wall of wreckage. Tactical lights swept through the unnatural darkness of the mall. No response. No sign of the men he had left to guard the base.
Kwang-ho bit down on his cigar until it nearly snapped. His primal instincts screamed that something was catastrophically wrong. Rage boiled up. He turned and roared at the giant subordinate standing beside the rear pickup.
"Chang! Get your RPG up! Blow that fucking barricade to pieces! I'm going in there and skin whoever dared to step on my turf!"
"Copy that, boss!" The giant grinned savagely. He shouldered the RPG-7 anti-tank launcher, sighted on the barricade, and slid his finger onto the trigger.
But before he could fire…
One of the truck's spotlights swung upward and caught something on the second-floor balcony.
Kwang-ho and all thirty mercenaries froze, craning their necks to follow the beam.
Amid the backdrop of shattered concrete and drifting smoke, a tall young man stood at the edge of the balcony. He wore no scrap-metal armor, no torn and blood-soaked rags like every other survivor in this broken world.
He wore a perfectly tailored bespoke black suit, flawless and unwrinkled. The top buttons of his black shirt were undone, revealing a powerful chest packed with dense muscle and faint scars. Italian leather shoes gleamed under the firelight. His face was sharply handsome in a dangerous way, skin flawless, but his pitch-black eyes gazing down… were cold, empty, and merciless as an abyss.
Kang Shi-hun stood with his hands clasped behind his back, posture radiating absolute authority—like a king surveying ants foolish enough to crawl before his palace.
Kwang-ho stared at the surreal sight for a moment, then exploded into manic laughter.
"Hahahaha! What the fuck is this?! A pretty boy in a suit? Have you lost your goddamn mind dressing up like that in the apocalypse?!" Kwang-ho shouted, flipping his middle finger upward. "You did all this? You think standing up there looking handsome makes you immortal?! Chang! Change target! Put an RPG round right through that fancy boy's face!"
The giant adjusted the RPG, raising the tube toward the second-floor balcony.
Shi-hun did not flinch. He showed no fear. The corner of his mouth lifted by a fraction—a crooked, bone-chilling smile.
You didn't bring weapons to kill me… you simply drove my resources and lifespan straight to my doorstep. His INT-15 mind had already calculated that only a 12.7mm heavy machine gun could reliably punch through the armored plating of those trucks.
Shi-hun opened the God's Shop interface in his mind. He did not need to dirty his suit or endure the deafening noise up close.
[Current lifespan: 345.5 days]
[Purchase: DShK 12.7mm Heavy Machine Gun with tripod | Price: 80.0 days]
[Purchase: 12.7mm Armor-Piercing Belt (200 rounds) × 2 | Price: 10.0 days]
[Total deducted: 90.0 days | Remaining lifespan: 255.5 days]
"Confirm."
A brilliant golden flash erupted in front of him. The air trembled. When the light faded, the massive black DShK 12.7mm heavy machine gun stood on its tripod, barrel aimed down at the parking plaza below. Two gleaming brass ammunition belts were already loaded and ready.
The mercenaries below gaped. Kwang-ho's cigar nearly fell from his mouth. How the hell did a heavy machine gun just appear from thin air?!
But the shock was not over.
Shi-hun, still standing with his hands clasped behind his back like a king, did not reach for the gun. He did not need to dirty himself or endure the noise at point-blank range.
He plucked a single strand of his own hair. A sharp sting flashed.
[Activate skill: Meat Clone]
[Lifespan deducted: 5.0 days | Remaining: 250.5 days]
A swirl of blue particles coalesced beside him. In a split second, an identical copy of Shi-hun appeared.
Another Kang Shi-hun. Perfect in every detail—same bespoke black suit, same undone black shirt revealing the powerful chest, same polished Italian shoes. The clone's face was identical, yet completely emotionless. No fear. No hesitation. It existed only to obey.
Kwang-ho and his men staggered backward on instinct. Two identical young men in flawless suits standing side by side on the balcony was beyond human comprehension.
"Erase them," the real Shi-hun ordered calmly, eyes gazing down without mercy.
The clone in the black suit moved instantly. It stepped behind the DShK, gripped the handles with steady hands, and yanked the massive charging lever.
Clack-clack!
The steel rattled ominously—a death knell that froze the blood. The clone pressed both thumbs onto the butterfly trigger without blinking.
BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG!!
The storm of steel was unleashed.
The 12.7mm heavy machine gun roared like continuous thunder, its muzzle flash strobing orange and black across the plaza. Armor-piercing rounds the size of half-dollars tore through the air faster than sound, each one powerful enough to shred thick steel like paper.
"AAAAAAGH!!!"
The giant carrying the RPG never got to pray. Two 12.7mm rounds punched through his chest armor. His upper body exploded into a red mist of blood, meat, and bone fragments. The unfired RPG warhead tumbled to the ground and detonated among the clustered mercenaries.
BOOM!!
The blast ripped three more men apart.
"Take cover!! Return fire!!" Kwang-ho screamed in panic, diving behind the lead truck's wheels. All his earlier arrogance vanished, leaving only animal survival instinct.
The clone in the black suit kept firing with cold precision, sweeping the barrel left and right like watering a garden of death.
BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG!!
The armor-piercing hail tore into both machine-gun pickups. Rounds punched through steel plates, engine blocks, and fuel tanks with surgical accuracy. Sparks from metal friction ignited the vapors in a fraction of a second.
BOOM!! BOOM!!
Both pickups erupted into towering fireballs. Flames rolled skyward, swallowing a dozen mercenaries who had tried to use the vehicles as cover. Screams of men burning alive and shredded by flying shrapnel blended with the machine gun's roar.
Round after round hammered Kwang-ho's armored six-wheeler. The plates that had once boasted bulletproof protection were now riddled like a honeycomb. Chunks of steel flew. Men hiding behind the truck were torn in half, legs and arms severed. The parking plaza in front of Mega Mall became a meat grinder awash with rivers of blood.
Amid the explosions, the deafening gunfire, and the flying debris, the real Shi-hun remained standing on the balcony, hands clasped behind his back, posture regal and utterly still. His open-collared black shirt fluttered slightly in the wind. He did not blink. He did not flinch. The firelight reflected in his pitch-black eyes as he watched the massacre below with quiet satisfaction.
Deep in the shadows of the second floor, not far away…
The freed survivors—led by Ji-ah, Su-jin, Min-ah, and Yu-jin—watched everything through shattered windows.
Their eyes widened, bodies trembling with terror and disbelief. The scene before them defied human imagination.
They saw two identical handsome young men in black suits! One controlled the monstrous machine gun, spraying death with emotionless precision. The other… stood with his chest open to the wind, hands clasped behind his back, watching the slaughter like a god observing a play.
"He… he's not human anymore…" Su-jin whispered, voice shaking. The machete slipped from her fingers. All pride in her combat skills shattered when faced with this power.
Yu-jin clutched her fractured ribs, eyes fixed on the real Shi-hun's back. A chill ran through her, mixed with a dangerous fascination. The man she had survived with had become a demon king—beautiful, ruthless, and able to summon death from the sky with a single glance.
Absolute awe and loyalty formed in every survivor's heart without further threat. They understood now: betraying this man was the greatest stupidity in the universe.
Clack… clack…
The two-hundred-round belts ran dry. The DShK fell silent. White smoke curled from the glowing-red barrel.
Silence returned to the parking plaza—an eerie quiet broken only by the crackle of burning wreckage and the weak moans of the few mercenaries still bleeding out, bodies torn apart.
An elite mercenary force of over thirty men… annihilated in less than two minutes.
Blue system messages flashed rapidly in Shi-hun's vision.
[Kill confirmed by clone: +1 day] [Kill confirmed by clone: +1 day] …
[Harvest summary: 28 enemies eliminated | Lifespan gained: +28.0 days]
[Current lifespan: 278.5 days]
Shi-hun watched the numbers rise. A faint smile touched his lips. He nodded once to the clone. The suited copy released the DShK and dissolved into blue particles, leaving empty air.
Shi-hun descended the motionless escalator with calm, unhurried steps. His polished Italian leather shoes clicked against the tile as he walked out into the smoke-filled, blood-soaked plaza.
Amid the riddled wreckage of the armored truck, Kwang-ho lay on his back, gasping. His left arm had been torn off at the shoulder. Blood poured in thick streams. Both legs were crushed under a section of the truck door. The former warlord's eyes bulged with utter terror as the dark silhouette of the man in the black suit strode through the flames toward him.
The polished leather shoe stopped beside Kwang-ho's face.
"W-what… the hell… are you…" Kwang-ho rasped, blood bubbling from his mouth. His eyes were filled with incomprehension. What had he lost to? Magic? A demon?
Shi-hun reached into his suit jacket and drew the cold karambit claw knife. The curved blade caught the firelight.
He did not answer. Trash did not need to know the Reaper's name.
"I came to harvest what belongs to me," Shi-hun whispered.
Slice.
The karambit opened Kwang-ho's throat in one clean stroke, severing artery and windpipe. Blood gushed like a fountain. Kwang-ho's eyes bulged, body twitching, then went still.
[Kill confirmed: +1 day | Current lifespan: 279.5 days]
Shi-hun flicked the blood from the blade and returned it to his inner pocket. He stood amid more than thirty corpses, riddled armored vehicles, and scattered weapons.
His black eyes swept across the treasure on the ground. Tonight… the discount percentage in his shop would break every limit.
The King of Ash had revealed his power to the world.
And his reign of terror had only just begun.