Grass scraped against his bare feet—dry, coarse, and unforgiving. Zyx winced. His balance faltered as he tried to take a step. "Where... am I?" His voice sounded strange. Mortal. A clumsy mess of air and muscle.
Around him, only silence. A sea of tall grass danced under a pale blue sky, endless and unfamiliar. He lifted a foot. It quivered. Then he collapsed.
Pain bloomed in his side. It was sharp, dull, and stinging all at once. His body had never felt this way before. Weak. Exposed. Human.
The Curse Mark dragged him down with invisible weight. His muscles barely responded, and when they did, it was only to betray him. He tried again, crawling upright like some drunk animal, then tumbled forward. Dirt pressed against his cheek. He bit his tongue. Iron.
He grunted.
This was what it meant to walk. This was gravity, exhaustion, shame—all the things gods like him never truly understood. It was horrible. It was incredible.
And he wasn't going to stop.
By the time he reached the edge of the field, hours might have passed. Or days. It was hard to tell. The sun bore down on him like an executioner. His throat was cracked and dry. His stomach clawed at itself.
He staggered onto a dirt road. A thin, crooked thing that stretched off into forever.
His feet moved.
Left. Right. Left.
He didn't think. He couldn't afford to.
Then he saw it—just ahead. A puddle. Murky, shallow, half-covered in dead leaves. It reeked. His gut twisted just looking at it. But his body didn't care. It screamed for water.
He dropped to his knees, hands trembling. His divine instincts protested. This was disgusting. This was beneath him.
But Luis had drunk worse.
Zyx dipped his hands into the brown water and brought it to his lips.
It tasted like rust and rot.
He gagged. Swallowed. Coughed.
A faint shimmer blinked in the corner of his vision.
[HEALTH: 3%][CURSE MARK ACTIVE – ATTRIBUTES REDUCED BY 99.9%]
"Great," he muttered.
His head lolled. The road tilted, dipped, then vanished beneath him. He collapsed face-first.
Darkness opened its arms.
"Is he breathing?" a voice asked, gentle but urgent.
"I think so. Get his legs—gently."
Warm hands lifted him. A child's worried voice echoed nearby, and Zyx felt himself sway, weightless and fading. Something soft cushioned his head.
Then—silence.
When he opened his eyes again, everything felt... wrong, but not in a bad way. The bed beneath him was warm. Clean. He was wrapped in a blanket that smelled faintly of lavender and detergent. Through a nearby window, sunlight poured in, soft and golden. Birds chirped.
For a long while, Zyx just lay there, watching the curtain flutter.
Peace.
He stood slowly, aching from the effort. The floorboards creaked under his feet as he reached for the window.
Below, a town unfolded—small, neat, alive. There were no explosions. No screams. Just houses, markets, and children playing near a park.
He didn't understand it.
A knock pulled him from the view.
The door creaked open. A woman stepped in, her presence calm and solid. She had kind eyes and dark hair tied into a neat bun.
"Oh good, you're awake." Her smile was motherly. Tired. Real. "Come. Breakfast is ready."
Zyx followed her into a modest kitchen, wincing with each step. A boy—maybe six or seven—sat at the table, kicking his feet while watching cartoons on a tablet. He looked up and grinned.
Zyx sat carefully. A bowl of steaming rice porridge was pushed toward him.
He stared at it. Then at her.
"You're feeding me?"
"Of course," she said, as if it were obvious. "You looked half-dead on that road."
He frowned. "Aren't you worried I might be dangerous?"
"You can barely walk," she said with a soft chuckle. "And besides… you don't seem dangerous. Just… lost."
He lowered his gaze. "You're not wrong."
"My name is Jihye," she said. "And this little guy is Min-jun."
The boy beamed.
"My husband was a police officer," she continued, her tone dipping slightly. "He was killed a few months ago. Some kind of incident with Hosts. They never found the one who did it. Just another name on the list."
"I'm sorry," Zyx murmured, guilt creeping under his skin like ice.
She nodded but said nothing more about it.
After the meal, he hesitated before asking, "What day is it?"
"September 22, 2025," she replied.
Two months. Two whole months since Luis had fallen. Zyx opened a faint system tab behind his eyes, almost afraid to look.
[GLOBAL HOST POPULATION: 620,234]
His stomach twisted. So many were gone. And he'd just woken up to fresh porridge in a quiet town.
"What are you looking at?" Jihye asked, tilting her head.
"Nothing. Just… thinking."
Later that day, he asked if he could walk around.
She raised an eyebrow. "You sure?"
He nodded. "I need to… see it."
She fetched an old wooden cane from behind a shelf. Its handle was worn smooth from years of use.
"This belonged to my grandmother. She always said it helped her keep moving. Even when it hurt."
Zyx accepted it, fingers curling around the familiar weight. "Thank you."
Outside, the town breathed with quiet rhythm. People smiled at one another. Storefronts opened lazily. A baker waved at a passing customer.
No screaming. No blood. Just… life.
Security forces strolled by—clearly human. No powers, no glowing eyes. Just bulletproof vests and tired-looking eyes.
Korea had found balance, somehow. Or at least this pocket of it had.
Zyx passed a florist, a bookstore, a cafe.
He walked slowly, watching, listening.
It was the first time in his existence that he truly observed humans—not as gods watched them, but as one of them.
And he didn't know what to make of it.
So he sat at a bench in the square and just… watched the sun set.
It felt like something Luis would've done.
Later that evening, Zyx wandered the quiet streets. Lanterns glowed along the sidewalk. He passed a cafe where two elderly men played chess. A young couple shared a pastry beneath a flickering streetlamp.
It was so… normal.
Then, a man stepped out of a nearby house. Tall. Sharp suit. Cold presence. Zyx's breath hitched.
The man locked eyes with him. Zyx spoke first, trying not to show the tremor in his voice. "Who are you?"
The man cocked his head. "Who are you? You're not from here."
There was no data. No system info. Just a blank.
Zyx forced a laugh. "Just visiting. Jihye's friend. You look important. What's your name?"
The man studied him for a moment, then smiled faintly. It wasn't warm—but it wasn't cruel either.
"Jihye? Ah, we went to school together. I'm Jhin won."
Zyx froze. That name. The one who cleared the Silver Pillar. The unstoppable force in Korea.
They shook hands. Zyx felt nothing—no power signature. His Curse Mark had reduced him to a whisper.
"Pleasure," Zyx said.
Jinwoo nodded. "Likewise. I've got to head out—city business."
He entered a sleek black car and vanished into the dusk.
Zyx stood there long after the car disappeared.
Jhin won wasn't just strong. He was terrifying. And somehow… kind.
When he finally returned to Jihye's home, her voice called out gently: "Mr. Zyx! It's getting dark, come inside."
He paused before entering.
One last glance at the system.
[5,000 Soul Essence—Luis's last remnants.]
He checked his abilities.
Cooldowns. Prices.
All slashed to near-zero.
The Curse Mark hadn't just weakened him—it had broken the system.
A bug. A loophole. An exploit.
Zyx let out a breath and stepped inside, where warmth, safety, and something dangerously close to family awaited. For now, he was alive.
And for the first time in forever, he felt accepted.