Orv: Laughter is chaos

Kim Dokja's POV

People were still frozen.

Some were staring at the dokkaebi like it was a glitchy hologram, others whispering furiously—throwing around words like "viral campaign" and "AR prank."

No one had killed anything yet.

Hell, most hadn't even moved.

But the system message didn't wait.

[Main Scenario #1: Proof of Value]

— Kill one living being.

I read it once. Then again. The words didn't change.

What did that mean? An animal? A person?

The tension thickened. I could feel it—like everyone in the carriage was holding their breath. The clock was ticking, but no one wanted to be first.

Except—

Ding.

A quiet sound. Soft. But it echoed like a gunshot in the silence.

My eyes flicked toward the source.

Tom.

He was looking at his phone with a slight, unreadable expression. Calm. Almost bored.

And then he looked at me.

"...What?" I asked warily.

Without a word, he tilted his screen toward me.

[✔ Scenario Completed: Main Scenario #1]

[✔ Bonus: First Kill Achieved]

[1,000 Coins Earned]

My brain stalled for a beat.

"...You what?"

"Bug," he said, smiling like it was nothing.

"You killed a bug?"

"Hey. I value my life."

I gawked at him, words half-formed in my mouth. I hadn't even begun to process the scenario yet, and this guy had already cleared it?

What the hell?

I wasn't even sure if it would count. It didn't say person, but still—an insect?

Was that all it took?

I didn't get a chance to ask, because a new announcement boomed overhead:

[Remaining participants must fulfill the scenario requirements.]

[Time remaining: 29 minutes 55 seconds.]

Panic spread like fire. Someone screamed. Another person started banging on the windows. A man near the back lunged toward a stranger in desperation.

The calm shattered.

I felt my muscles tense. My fingers curled around my phone.

And then—

A hand grabbed mine.

"W-What are you—?!"

I stumbled slightly as Tom turned toward me, sharp and fast.

"Hold still," he said.

Before I could question it, he sprayed something into my palm.

Cold.

Rubbing alcohol?

"...What?" I stared at him. "Why are you—"

You have killed one living being.

[Main Scenario #1: Proof of Value — CLEAR]

[500 Coins have been deposited into your account.]

The message blinked calmly in my vision.

I froze.

That was it? That counted?

I looked at Tom, stunned. He had already pulled his hand away.

"You knew this would work," I said.

His smirk didn't fade. "Instinct."

"...You sprayed my hand with alcohol."

"Yup."

"And you knew there'd be bacteria on it that counted toward the kill requirement?"

He tilted his head. "Technically it's alive. The scenario said any living being, didn't it?"

I stared at him.

This guy.

This casually sarcastic, mildly smug guy.

I hadn't even thought that far yet.

How the hell—

My brain scrambled for some frame of reference, some narrative logic that could explain him. He didn't act like someone just thrown into a nightmare. He acted like someone who expected this.

That made me uneasy.

And impressed.

Unwillingly, deeply impressed.

"You're welcome, by the way," he added, dropping my wrist like it was no big deal. "We're even now."

"Even for what?" I muttered.

But he was already turning away.

The dokkaebi's laughter echoed overhead again.

And for the first time since this started, I wasn't just afraid of what was coming.

I was afraid of who was standing next to me.

Third Person POV

They'd missed part of the dokkaebi's speech — something about "proof of value," about death being real, rules being absolute. Not that it mattered.

Tom wasn't listening.

While the dokkaebi hovered midair, flickering like corrupted footage, Tom's gaze swept the carriage with surgical precision.

People were still stuck in denial.

Which made them dangerous.

Without hesitation, Tom grabbed Kim Dokja's wrist tightly.

"Dokja. Follow me."

There was no time for questions. He pulled him quickly between rows of seats, dodging bodies frozen in fear. They slid into place beside a young boy—net in lap, wide eyes blinking.

Lee Gilyoung.

Tom nodded once at the boy. "Stay low. You're smart. Just keep still."

Then—

Screams.

Broadcasts.

Blood.

The scenario escalated into nightmare.

The footage of Daepong Girls' High played out in gruesome horror. Heads exploded on screen. A single girl survived, drenched in crimson and shaking.

And in the aftermath—

Silence.

Then:

[#Bay23515 channel. Daepong Girls High School, Year 2 Class B Survivor: Lee Jihye.]

The system announcement hit like a hammer. Cold. Indifferent.

The dokkaebi grinned wide above the carriage.

["How was it?"]

["Interesting?"]

And the real fear began.

Not toward the dokkaebi.

Toward each other.

A man glanced nervously at a teen holding a lighter. A woman gripped her purse like a weapon. Paranoia spread like a disease.

Then—

A scuffle broke out near the doors. One man lunged with a broken bottle, shouting something about finishing the scenario—

Only to be stopped.

A towering figure stepped forward with quiet authority. He didn't shout. Didn't hesitate. He simply reached out and seized the attacker's wrist with one powerful hand.

Lee Hyunsung.

His expression was calm. Stern. He released the man gently but firmly, placing himself between the attacker and the rest of the passengers like a steel wall.

Tom glanced toward him. His brow lifted slightly.

"...He's early," he muttered. "Huh."

Kim Dokja said nothing.

But he noticed.

Then—

The lights flickered.

A new sensation hit the carriage.

Like eyes. Watching. Peeling back layers of flesh and thought.

And the next wave of messages began:

[Several constellations are now watching you with interest.]

I felt it immediately.

The pressure.

It was like being dragged onto a stage without knowing your lines. The air buzzed like a live wire. I could feel the gaze of something far bigger than me—something ancient, amused, and utterly detached from human morality.

[The constellation 'Prisoner of the Golden Headband' nods solemnly at your clever solution.]

[The constellation 'Abyssal Black Flame Dragon' grins in approval.]

[The constellation 'Laughter is Chaos' is watching you with wicked delight.]

A shiver ran down my spine.

Tom, beside me, visibly flinched.

His eyes darted upward like he could see them.

And then—another message:

[The constellation "Laughter is Chaos" coos, 'Already breaking the timeline again, darling~?']

[The constellation "Laughter is Chaos" whispers, 'Delicious. Entertain me more.']

[The constellation "Laughter is Chaos" pouts.]

[The constellation "Laughter is Chaos" says, 'Don't ignore me, dear~ You'll make me jealous.']

Tom closed his eyes briefly.

I noticed the muscles in his jaw tighten.

I turned to him sharply. "What the hell was that?"

He didn't answer right away.

His voice, when it came, was quiet. Too quiet.

"...Nothing you need to worry about."

But I didn't believe him.

Because he wasn't surprised.

He was familiar.

Kim Dokja's POV

The constellations had entered the stage.

And somehow, Tom was already dancing with them.

.

.

The constellation messages faded, but the feeling didn't.

That awful sense of being seen—examined under a microscope by something wrong. Something too big. Too old. Too amused.

The dokkaebi wasn't laughing anymore.

He was just watching now, floating lazily above the chaos like a director waiting for the bloodiest act of his play to begin.

And the actors?

Us.

Around the carriage, people began to crack.

Tom didn't flinch.

Didn't look back.

Just sat there, perfectly composed, like he'd already run this scene before and memorized the outcome.

I didn't like it.

I didn't like how calm he was. How easily he'd finished the scenario. How he didn't seem surprised by anything—not the dokkaebi, not the blood, not even the gods.

Because that meant he knew.

More than he should.

More than I did.

And I'd spent my whole life reading this story.

But he wasn't in it.

He shouldn't exist.

So why did he?

My hand curled tighter around my phone. I still hadn't opened the app. Still hadn't dared.

The urge clawed at me. If I just tapped the icon, I'd know. I'd know whether this was the same story. Whether I was really in Three Ways to Survive the Apocalypse, or whether—

CRACK.

A sharp sound snapped my attention forward.

Someone had broken a bottle. Glass scattered across the floor near the far end of the train.

A man—mid-thirties, average build—was holding the jagged neck like a weapon. His eyes were wide. Wild.

"I'm not gonna die! You hear me?! I'm not gonna die because some damn floating midget said so!"

"Sir, please—" a younger man raised his hands.

"Back off!" The bottle swung forward—missing, but close. "I'll kill if I have to! I'll kill anyone! You think I care?!"

The carriage recoiled.

People scrambled backward.

I could feel it again—that dreadful, tilting edge. Like the whole car was a stage perched on a cliff, and one more step would send it all tumbling down.

Tom moved.

He didn't stand. He didn't run.

He simply shifted in front of Gilyoung, shielding the kid with his whole body. One hand held me back—firm and unshaking.

I barely noticed I'd started to rise.

Tom didn't speak, but his eyes met mine.

Don't.

That was the message.

Let it play out.

And it did.

Because—

Thud.

A shadow moved faster than sound.

Lee Hyunsung.

He was there before anyone could blink—stepping between the bottle-wielding man and the trembling passenger behind him. His arm came up in a blur, catching the strike mid-swing.

The bottle cracked against his forearm—and bounced.

Didn't break skin.

Didn't even phase him.

The man stumbled back in shock.

"You need to calm down," Hyunsung said gently.

And that wasn't a suggestion.

It was a command wrapped in kindness.

But the man didn't stop.

He flailed—panicked, desperate—and reached for the belt looped through his coat.

Too fast.

Too wild.

This time, Tom moved.

He surged forward—not flashy, not loud—just precise.

In three steps, he was beside Hyunsung, intercepting the man's swing and slamming his shoulder into his chest. The man reeled back, gasping, and the belt dropped to the floor.

Tom stepped on it.

Hard.

The man froze—caught between Hyunsung's calm authority and Tom's quiet finality.

"You're not killing anyone here," Tom said, low and cold.

The train fell silent.

Everyone was watching.

The would-be killer.

The stranger who stopped him.

The soldier who caught the first strike.

[The constellation 'Laughter is Chaos' claps with delight!]

[The constellation 'Laughter is Chaos' whispers, 'So brave, so sharp. This one's mine.']

Tom twitched.

Almost imperceptibly. But I caught it.

His fingers curled into fists, just once, before he shook it off and turned back toward me.

"You okay?" he asked.

I nodded.

Then frowned.

"You didn't have to do that."

"Maybe not." His tone softened. "But I wanted to."

Hyunsung stood silently at Tom's side for a moment longer, then helped the trembling man sit down and checked the cut on his palm.

No drama.

No boasting.

Just quiet stability.

That was the moment I knew—we had two anchors in this car now.

And we were going to need them.

[Several constellations have shown interest in your choices.]

[Coin earnings adjusted based on narrative value.]

[Tom Révain: +300 Coins.]

[Lee Hyunsung: +250 Coins.]

[Kim Dokja: +100 Coins.]

But the switch had been flipped.

Now they knew they could try. Even if they failed.

And worse—someone had fought back.

That made them targets too.

The passengers began to look at them differently now.

Like maybe if they killed one of them, they could clear the scenario instead.

[Time remaining: 23 minutes 50 seconds.]

Tom sat down beside me again with a quiet breath.

"You see it, don't you?" he murmured.

I didn't answer.

I didn't need to.

We both knew.

The real bloodshed hadn't even started.

Kim Dokja's POV

Something about him still didn't make sense.

He wasn't just fast. He was prepared.

Like he'd trained for this.

Like he'd done this before.

No one else had even thought to act yet. But Tom?

Tom had been a step ahead the whole time.

The bug.

The bacteria.

The attacker.

It wasn't luck.

It wasn't instinct.

It was foreknowledge.

And that terrified me more than the scenario.

"...Who are you really?" I asked.

He didn't look at me.

But his smile, faint and tired, didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Someone who shouldn't be here," he said.

And then, more quietly:

"But since I am—I might as well try to make it count."

[Several constellations are watching you with intense curiosity.]

[The constellation 'Laughter is Chaos' whispers, 'That's it, darling. Keep playing your role~']

[The constellation 'Laughter is Chaos' hums a tune from a dead world.]

To be continued.