Ji-Han wiped dust from the shelves of the old antique shop, humming quietly. He had been helping the shopkeeper here for months—moving boxes, cleaning cobwebs, organizing fragile relics. In return, the old man let him wander freely and even gave him some odd trinkets from time to time.
Today, as sunlight streamed through the dusty windows, his eyes caught a small wooden box tucked away in a corner.
It was unassuming—scratched and worn—but something about it seemed… alive.
Ji-Han picked it up carefully.
"Interesting," he murmured.
The shopkeeper, sitting on a chair behind the counter, chuckled softly.
"You have an eye for the unusual," he said. "Take it. Consider it a gift. You've helped enough around here—more than most would."
Ji-Han hesitated. "Are you sure?"
"Absolutely. Just… don't open it carelessly."
He nodded, tucking the box under his arm as he left the shop.
Back home, Ji-Han set the box on his kitchen counter and went to slice an apple. The blade was sharp, and in a moment of inattention, he slashed his finger. Blood poured out, staining the wooden countertop.
Cursing, he went to grab a bandage. But as he turned back, his blood had dropped onto the box.
The box trembled.
A click sounded.
Then it slowly creaked open.
Ji-Han froze.
Inside was a watch, ancient and impossibly intricate. The metal gleamed unnaturally in the dim light. The moment his blood touched it, the watch leapt from the box and attached itself to his wrist.
A blue window suddenly flickered in front of his eyes.
[HOST LINKED – CONFIRMED]
A mechanical, calm voice spoke inside his mind:
"Countdown initiating. Ten… nine… eight…"
Ji-Han's heart thudded.
"Seven… six… five…"
He tried to pull the watch off. It wouldn't budge. A strange warmth and pressure radiated from the strap into his veins.
"Four… three… two… one…"
A second voice added:
"System interface online. You are now the host. Attributes, survival guidance, and world display will be projected to your interface. Transfer will occur in three… two… one…"
Everything went white.
Pain, pressure, weight, and wind all at once. Ji-Han's stomach flipped. The world around him folded, twisted, and disappeared.
When his vision returned, he was lying on damp earth.
The smell hit him first—wet soil, rotting leaves, something alive and hungry.
Above him, a canopy of enormous trees blocked the sun. The air was thick, buzzing with insects he didn't recognize. The forest was alive—horrifyingly alive.
His wrist tingled. The watch pulsed softly. A blue screen unfolded before his eyes.
[WORLD DETECTED: PRIMEVAL DEATH ZONE]
[SURVIVAL PROBABILITY: 18%]
[ATTRIBUTES: EMPTY]
Then a low growl echoed from somewhere nearby.
Ji-Han's fingers instinctively gripped the blade he didn't even know he still had in his hand.
The screen blinked:
[WARNING: PREDATOR DETECTED WITHIN 30 METERS]
The forest wasn't just a place.
It was a test.
And Ji-Han realized, as his blood still oozed from his finger and dripped onto the dirt, that he had just been marked.
The hunt had begun.