Chapter 6

“Before that, I have a few questions.”

“Questions? What about?”

“Am I stuck here until I finish learning all the spells?”

From what he recalled, acquiring skills in this game took quite a bit of time.

Even a simple goblin fight, which took mere minutes in the game, had lasted significantly longer in reality.

If learning spells followed the same pattern, he could be here for days.

How was he supposed to deal with food? Rest? Basic needs?

“Of course not,” the mage replied. “You’ve always been free to leave at any time.”

“Wait… I can leave whenever I want?”

“Of course. Do you even remember how you got here?”

“Well, I stepped through a dimensional gate and—”

He stopped mid-sentence.

Ah.

Of course.

If he wanted to leave, all he had to do was open another gate.

It was such a simple answer that he felt embarrassed for not realizing it sooner.

Instead of assuming he was trapped, he should have recognized that the choice had always been his.

“Why do you ask? Are you planning to leave?”

“Not right now. But I can’t stay here forever.”

“Hm. Fair enough. If you grow tired, feel free to rest and return later. I’ll be here for the next three days.”

So, the gate would reopen at the last location on either side.

That meant he could come and go freely.

Knowing that put his mind at ease.

“Any other questions?”

“Yes, one more.”

“What is it?”

“What exactly is the End?”

If this had been a scripted NPC, this question wouldn’t have even crossed his mind.

But this wasn’t a game.

This world was real.

And that word—the End—had been thrown around as though it was common knowledge.

There was no reason not to ask about it.

But instead of answering, the old mage simply frowned.

“What do you mean, ‘What is the End?’ You already know, don’t you?”

“…What?”

“You were aware of me, weren’t you? It’s the same thing.”

Was he saying the End was part of the game’s existing lore?

He quickly sifted through his memory, pulling up everything he knew about World Breaker.

It was a game set in a world that had already been destroyed. The entire premise revolved around surviving in a post-apocalyptic wasteland.

But wait—destroyed world.

That implied there had once been a world that wasn’t destroyed.

But in the game, such a world had never been shown.

Not even once.

World Breaker had always taken place after the collapse.

A thought struck him.

And just as it did, the old mage spoke again.

“In three days, your world will fall.”

Ding.

“Welcome.”

At the familiar chime of the convenience store door, he instinctively put on his practiced customer-service smile.

The customer, a young man who looked even younger than himself, didn’t bother responding. Instead, he silently pulled out a card and held it up.

“Bolboro Gold.”

“Yes, Bolboro Gold. One moment, please.”

So young, yet already speaking so casually.

It wasn’t the first time.

After a year of working at the store, he had long since grown numb to customers addressing him informally.

At least this one wasn’t barking orders at him. Some barely spoke in full sentences.

“Your total has been processed. Here you go.”

“….”

The man snatched the pack of cigarettes from his hands without a word.

He didn’t even acknowledge the polite “Have a nice day” that followed.

No manners whatsoever.

Suppressing an irritated sigh, he sat back down behind the register.

Everything feels the same.

The same store he worked at every day. The same repetitive tasks. The same customers.

It was as if yesterday’s events had never happened.

As if the memories were nothing but a strange dream.

But they weren’t.

No one knew that better than him.

Stepping outside, he pointed his finger toward the sky.

“Magic Missile.”

Crackle!

A spark of blue light flickered at his fingertip before shooting upwards, vanishing into the clouds.

Magic.

A power that belonged in fantasy, unattainable by ordinary people.

He had cast it multiple times since yesterday, yet it still felt surreal.

His mind drifted back to his conversation with the old mage.

“In three days, your world will fall.”

One day had already passed.

That meant only two remained.

It wasn’t like there was a giant clock counting down second by second, but the timeframe was clear.

And most importantly—

The end of the world was real.

Even if he wanted to dismiss it as nonsense, the mage had stated it with unwavering certainty.

“In three days, you must prove your worth through struggle and survive. Or, if you lack the strength, cling to those who have it.”

“Struggle? I assumed ‘the end’ meant some natural disaster—”

“In a way, you could call it that. But you won’t be swept away by an unstoppable force. You will always have a chance.”

“A chance? What does that even mean? Can’t you explain it in more detail?”

“This is as much as I am permitted to say. Still, you are fortunate. You now have an opportunity to prepare.”

That was where the conversation had ended.

But it had been enough.

From those few words, he could infer three things:

First, the world’s destruction wouldn’t come from a natural disaster.

Second, survival would depend on one’s own strength.

And third, even the weak could survive—so long as they attached themselves to the strong.

With that much, a picture had started to form.

This sounds an awful lot like a Monster Wave.

A Monster Wave.

In gaming terms, it was an event where monsters, driven into a frenzy, attacked players in overwhelming numbers.

According to lore, they were triggered by celestial events—eclipses, comets, or other cosmic phenomena.

The type of monsters varied depending on the cause, but the result was always the same: if the players failed to hold the line, they died.

There was no way to predict which monsters would come.

No strategy except pure defense.

And if the conditions were that survival was possible through strength or by seeking refuge under the protection of the powerful—

Then this could only mean one thing.