A dark night.

A man stood by the window, gazing out over the faintly glowing cityscape of Ark.

Blond hair and blue eyes.

The foreign-looking man slowly swirled a glass of harsh vodka in his mouth and muttered under his breath.

"Like a silent film."

The city was under siege. A fire had broken out somewhere beyond the wall, lighting the skyline red, with plumes of black smoke rising into the air.

Though the visuals were chaotic and noisy, no sound accompanied them—a surreal silence.

The blockade of Zone 2 was absolute. Not a single sound came in or out. To hear anything from outside, one had to climb the walls themselves or physically leave the boundary.

The man downed the vodka in one gulp with a bored expression.

"How dull."

Then, it happened.

"Sir Nazoral, we've detected a suspicious presence."

A ripple like liquid rose from his shadow, gradually taking human shape. The figure knelt before Nazoral and continued the report.

"A large goblin was sighted in front of Gate G of Zone 2."

"A large goblin?"

"The suspected entity is the same 'Nuada-Goblin' that was taken from us by Kyle a week ago."

Nazoral hesitated slightly, eyes fixed on the shadow.

"...Wasn't that thing lost in the Bermuda Zone?"

"We've also acquired related intel. The field team previously declared missing has returned to HQ."

And with that report came a single, unavoidable conclusion.

"Kyle is alive."

"Yes. His survival has been confirmed."

Nazoral's gaze hardened as he looked out toward the immovable wall. The silence beyond made the whole scene feel even more unreal.

"So Kyle has returned..."

He picked up the nearly empty vodka bottle and slowly rotated it in his hand. It had once been a comforting pastime—but not anymore.

There would be no time for such indulgences now.

"I'm curious to see how he plays this game..."

Nazoral tilted the bottle back and emptied the last of the vodka. Rising from his seat, he asked,

"How far has the operation progressed?"

"Smoothly. At the current pace, we'll be ready in a week..."

"Three days."

Nazoral cut him off coldly.

His commanding tone made the shadow visibly flinch, but there was no room to object.

"...Understood."

"Good."

BZZZ—

The smartphone on the desk vibrated, a new message lighting up the screen. Nazoral checked the notification, frowning.

[Emergency meeting convened. Attendance required.]

He waved the shadow away and started walking toward the door.

Down the hallway, military personnel and players alike were already lined up outside the massive conference room, IDs being checked by security.

When they saw Nazoral approach, someone called out,

"Right this way, Mr. Kyle."

Inside the Zone 2 Grand Hall, a vast screen loomed at the front of an amphitheater-style seating area filled with people.

There were men in suits, soldiers in uniform, and others wearing high-grade equipment like medals of honor. These were the elite of Ark: the top players, the central powers.

The room buzzed with debate as an intense meeting was underway.

One man, Assemblyman Storm—currently serving as Ark's acting advisor and known as one of Bellatris's close aides—stepped forward.

"Fortunately, the lizardmen who breached Zone 3 seem to have lost interest in Zone 2. They're circling Zone 3 instead. Let's review the footage."

CCTV footage from across Zone 3 showed the lizardmen's every move.

At night, their savagery became more intense. The visuals showed citizens of Zone 3 being hunted down like prey.

Worse yet, the CCTV had crystal-clear audio.

Screams of people, the shrieks of monsters, the crunching of flesh being devoured—all played back in vivid, gut-wrenching clarity.

"Dear ..."

"…oh."

Groans of discomfort spread throughout the room.

Humans being torn apart, stabbed, toyed with like rag dolls—no one could watch it without wincing.

One person couldn't take it anymore and raised his voice.

"Did you just say 'fortunately'?"

Storm nodded without hesitation.

"Yes."

"You're watching our citizens being massacred—and you call that fortunate?!"

"Yes, I do."

"What the hell did you just say?!"

The speaker, a red-faced man in full plate armor, stood up angrily. His name was Colar, a mid-level tank class player—neither low-ranking nor elite.

"Mr. Colar, you seem to be misunderstanding something... This situation is nothing short of a divine blessing for us."

"You bastard!"

"We—"

Storm's voice resonated through the room, amplified with magic.

Colar, just about to rush forward, froze in place.

"We are standing on the edge of a knife. One crumbling wall is the only thing between us and annihilation. Don't you see that?"

He pointed at the screen.

"It is fortunate. It is a godsend that those people are dying instead of us. Because if they hadn't... we would all be dead right now."

Colar clenched his fists, still seething.

"What are the rest of you doing? Are we really going to just sit here and let this bastard talk?"

But no one responded.

Some whispered in hushed tones.

"...Honestly, it's better the non-combatants are dying than the players."

"It's unavoidable."

"It's for humanity's survival..."

Gradually, the uproar in the hall quieted.

Even Storm looked pained as he continued speaking.

"My mother is still in Zone 3. She's been unable to walk properly ever since her accident."

"..."

"Mr. Colar, you're not the only one suffering."

A heavy silence fell over the room like cold water. Colar could only sink back into his seat.

Storm resumed.

"And this is the primary reason we enacted the lockdown."

The screen changed again.

This time, it showed something monstrous—enough to send a chill down everyone's spine.

The Giant Horned Lizard.

Anyone with experience fighting lizardmen, anyone who had played Exodia, immediately recognized the creature.

Whispers of disbelief rippled through the hall.

"A mid-boss... a C-rank mid-boss is out in the wild?"

And then, as the words left their lips, everyone realized the terrifying implication:

A C-rank dungeon boss had escaped its dungeon.

"Dungeon... has a Dungeon Break occurred?"

"Still a hypothesis. We need more confirmation. But if it's true, then Ark is doomed without the lockdown."

The atmosphere in the meeting room sank lower than the bottom of the deepest ocean. Every person present found themselves repeating what Storm had said earlier.

"Lucky."

They were genuinely grateful that the horde of monsters hadn't headed toward Zone 2 but were instead circling around Zone 3.

There was no other choice.

With Ark's current forces, there was no way to handle a Dungeon Break from a C-rank dungeon. And the number of players capable of facing off against the Giant Horned Lizard?

Virtually none.

Or rather—only one.

All eyes turned in the same direction.

If there was any sliver of hope remaining in Ark, it was this: the number-one ranked player of Exodia had finally joined them.

"Kyle," who had officially settled in Ark.

Storm came out and asked him directly.

"Kyle, can you defeat the Giant Horned Lizard?"

Kyle, who had been sitting with his eyes closed and a look of boredom on his face, slowly opened his blue eyes and answered.

And his answer mercilessly trampled over their hopes.

"Impossible."

"...Isn't there at least a chance you could buy us some time?"

Kyle nodded and spoke without hesitation.

"My current level is 173. That thing's got to be at least 180, maybe 190."

The highest-leveled player in this meeting room was barely above level 130.

So level 173 was an incredible feat—just as one would expect from Kyle.

But even that wasn't enough. The weight pressing down on everyone's shoulders only grew heavier.

Kyle spoke slowly.

"There's only one way. We have to hope that thing never realizes Zone 2 exists."

"That should be doable. Just as you recommended, the lockdown was issued at the right time. With the magical barrier active, the monsters can't detect us."

"Then what's the problem? Honestly, the lockdown's already in place, so what's the point of this meeting?"

With a sigh, Storm moved the screen forward to the next image. The footage from a CCTV camera showed dozens—no, hundreds—of people unable to move past the wall.

"Countless refugees have gathered outside the barrier. The Lizardmen haven't noticed them yet, and if we open the gate now, we could still save them."

At first, most of the people in the room readily agreed that the gate should be opened.

The people in Zone 3 were mostly not players—they were the weak, the powerless.

Even if they were lower in priority, it was only right to save them if there was any way to do so.

If left as they were, there was no telling when the Lizardmen might find them and slaughter them.

"But opening the gate will break the magical barrier protecting Zone 2."

"What..."

"It takes three hours to re-establish the magic circle. If we're lucky, maybe two. But during that time, we can't guarantee that the Giant Horned Lizard won't detect us."

Only then did the room understand why Storm had convened a meeting even after the lockdown was already in place.

He was forcing them to make a choice.

Take the risk to save the people in Zone 3?

Or preserve Zone 2 and abandon them?

Just moments ago, many had insisted the gate should be opened. But now, their mouths went silent.

That's when Kyle, as if to ask what the big deal was, spoke casually.

"Wasn't Ark's purpose to preserve humanity? And you'd risk that mission to save those worthless lives?"

"..."

"There's nothing to discuss. This isn't a game. When the odds are stacked, you fold."

The vote was held swiftly.

Out of fifty members, only seven voted to open the gate.

Kyle stood up irritably and stormed out.

"What a waste of time."

People gradually began filing out of the meeting room. The decision had been made.

Zone 2's gate would remain shut.

Left behind alone in the meeting room, Storm quietly gazed at the footage of desperate people clinging to the walls of Zone 3.

"...Utterly tragic."

One of the players helping clean up noticed Storm still staring at the screen and cautiously approached to offer comfort.

"Sir... I'm sure your mother will be all right."

"Huh? What are you talking about?"

Storm blinked, confused, then smiled crookedly as something clicked.

"Oh, that was a lie. My mom's been dead for a while now."

"...What?"

"I just said that to cool things down a little. Don't think too much of it."

"..."

With a shrug of his shoulders, Storm walked out of the meeting room. He muttered under his breath.

"Would've been nice if the real Kyle showed up right about now... but I guess that's asking for too much."

Storm.

A national assemblyman, and one of the highest-ranking surviving officials in the South Corelands n government.

Despite his young age, he was a shrewd man who knew the truth—Ark's "Kyle" wasn't the real one.

And yet he hadn't revealed it.

Because even if the man had the power, his personality made him utterly useless.

"Tch. Great skills, zero character. What a waste. And of all times, Bellatris had to be gone. Just perfect."

He clicked his tongue and strolled slowly through the hallway, muttering complaints about Bellatris being absent.

The next morning.

The people of Zone 3 looked utterly drained. Their dark eye bags told the story of a sleepless night spent listening to the footsteps of prowling Lizardmen.

When the sun rose and it was clear the night buffs had worn off, Jhin stood and said,

"Alright. The night buffs should be gone now. Let's get to work on the plan we talked about."

"...You really think it'll work?"

Beside him, Caleb asked with concern in his voice. Jhin grinned and replied confidently.

"The chances of success are low. It's practically a gamble."

"...Then we shouldn't be doing it."

"But Detective," Jhin said, his voice firm. "This isn't a game."

"Huh?"

"To hell with probabilities. Even if it's impossible, we'll make it happen."

If you quit just because the odds were bad, you may as well never have started playing.

And either way—this world was headed toward ruin.