Chapter1-Killed amid all chaos

Hey everyone,

I'm Michael Johnson, a 22-year-young guy just trying to find a decent job in this challenging world.

And, am I dying right now? How?

So, a few minutes ago,

When I left the Shopping mall, I heard a cry for help.

"Help! Someone, please help me!"

Across the street, I saw a man wearing a black jersey.

He held a knife covered in blood and was chasing an office worker who had been stabbed in the shoulder. 

The victim tried to escape, but the man caught up to him and stabbed him in the back.

Ignoring the victim's screams, the man continued to stab him two or three more times.

The man grew bored of the limped office worker and began looking for his next victim.

His attention was drawn to a high school girl who had collapsed in shock, unable to move after witnessing the brutal murder...

The man hurried toward the girl.

The girl had blonde hair and an unremarkable appearance.

She immediately tried to run, using the frantic crowd as a shield while the man pursued her.

It wasn't surprising, since even I probably would have tried the same strategy to get away.

People scattered in all directions, just trying to protect themselves.

The man, determined to reach her, attacked anyone in his path—stabbing some in the stomach, others in the arms or legs.

Screams for help filled the air as chaos took over and panic spread through the crowd.

I had no idea why he was so desperate to catch her, and frankly, I didn't care.

I turned my back on the chaos and walked away.

Whether she survived or not wouldn't change my life much, so there was no point in worrying about her.

After moving about 10 or 20 meters from the chaos, I abruptly stopped.

Something cold and round was pressed against my back.

What the...

I was about to turn around when a harsh, raspy voice warned, "Don't move or turn around, or you'll get shot."

Damn it, I knew it...

It was a gun. 

Another murderer?

Slowly, I raised my hands, showing I was giving up, hoping the cops would arrive any minute.

Inside, I was panicking, my heart racing, but I forced myself to stay calm. 

One wrong move, and it was game over for me.

"Look," I said, trying to steady my voice, "if you're after money, I don't have any. Killing me won't get you anything, unless you're just in it for the thrill."

He let out a mocking laugh. "Hahaha! Kid, do you really think I'm just some street thug?"

I said, "No, why should I?"

But inside, I thought, 'Yes, absolutely for sure.'

He continued, "For now, just put your hands down and do exactly what I say. Don't even think about escaping—I've planted a small bomb in your body. If you move 200 meters away from me, you're done. Got it?"

"Y-Yeah!"

Without thinking twice, I lowered my hands. 

If I didn't, I probably wouldn't survive until tomorrow.

Great. Now I've got a bomb inside me that'll go off if I stray too far.

Wait! Is he being honest or just lying?

Either way, I'm not about to take the chance and find out if there's actually a bomb on my back or not..

But...

What kind of awful luck is this?

I was starting to accept that I might actually die today. 

There was no way this guy was going to let me walk away peacefully...

Then he said, "Hey, you were watching the murderer, right?"

When he said that, I turned to look at the murderer, who still hadn't managed to catch the girl.

What an incompetent killer.

Can't he catch a single girl? Why is this taking so long?

I could have easily taken her out by now and been long gone.

Were they playing some kind of game?

Subway surfers in real life?

It sure looked like it, especially since the girl was in a situation like that little boy in chase videos, while the murderer reminded me of that slow cop who could never catch him unless the boy slipped up. The injured and dying people around them felt like mere obstacles.

I said, "Yes."

Then he told me something shocking: "Go save that girl if you want to live to see tomorrow!"

Fuck! What?

I quickly asked, "Please tell me you're joking, right?"

He replied, "Do I sound like I am?"

I couldn't believe it. 

That was downright suicidal.

If I tried to save her, there was a good chance I'd end up getting killed myself. It felt like he was asking me to invite my own death.

Desperate, I decided to negotiate with him, even though I knew it probably wouldn't help. 

"Hey, look, man, I don't think you understand what you're asking. If I follow your orders, I'm just asking for trouble."

He started to respond, but I cut him off. "And if I don't follow, I'll still be dead. So either way, I'm done. Why not just kill me now?"

I didn't even know who this guy was—his face and actions didn't really matter to me.

"Listen," I said, trying to keep my voice steady, "there has to be another way. You can't expect me to just throw my life away for some random girl."

He narrowed his eyes, the gun still pressed against my back. "It's not just about her. If you want to live, you have to prove it."

Prove it? 

My heart raced. 

What kind of twisted game was this? 

"So, what? I just run into danger and hope for the best?"

He chuckled, a cold, humorless sound. "Something like that. Or you can keep standing there and wait for me to get bored."

The chaos in the background intensified as the crowd continued to panic. 

I could still hear the girl's screams echoing in my mind. 

"What's your name?" he suddenly asked.

"Michael."

"Michael," he repeated, almost mockingly. "You're going to save her, and if you don't, I'll make sure you regret it."

A rush of defiance surged through me. "You really think I'm going to risk my life for someone I don't even know?"

"Your choice," he replied, and in that moment, something shifted in his demeanor. 

It was as if he enjoyed the power he held over me.

I took a deep breath, weighing my options. 

If I didn't act, I was as good as dead. 

If I did try to save her, maybe I could turn the tables somehow...

Maybe he let me go...

It's all depends on "Maybe".

"Fine," I said, steeling my resolve. "I'll do it. But you need to give me a head start. I won't just walk into a slaughter."

He paused, then smirked. "You've got ten seconds. Go."

I took off, adrenaline propelling me forward as I raced toward the chaos. 

The sounds of the crowd filled my ears, but all I could focus on was the girl. 

As I ran, I spotted her—a blonde figure, frozen in shock.

This time, She attempted to flee, but the man grabbed her arm before she could get away.

Struggling to catch her breath, the girl watched in horror as the man grinned menancingly.

Covered in blood, the man lifts his arm into the air.

I hurried from the opposite side of the street and grabbed onto his arm.

In this tense moment, I kept my cool and carefully examined the man's appearance.

He appeared to be not around my age, perhaps a bit older, possibly in his thirties.

His face was thin with some stubble, but his bloodshot eyes and flared nostrils gave him a fierce intensity.

I attempted to restrain his arm, but he shook me off and pulled out a fresh knife from his belt.

Examining the man's belt, I noticed it was adorned with knives of different sizes.

As the man swung his knife at me, I shifted my rucksack to deflect the blow, then pushed it into him.

But he sidestepped my attack, avoiding the impact, and slashed at me with his knife.

I felt a sharp pain as blood sprayed from my arm.

The pain overwhelmed me, and before I knew it, a knife had plunged into my stomach.

"This…..!"

Fueled by both pain and anger, I swung my rucksack wildly.

Inside it was a robust toaster.

I wrestled with the man, who was groaning in pain, attempting to grab the knife from his hand.

I almost succeeded in disarming him, but at that moment, the girl who had collapsed on the floor reached out and grabbed the man.

She may have been trying to assist me, but unfortunately, that's when disaster struck.

"….gubu.."

A strange sensation surged through my arm, unlike anything I'd ever felt before.

The man fell to the ground, his eyes wide open as he muttered something.

In a daze, I stared at my own hand.

There was blood.

It's a knife.

A blood-stained knife was clasped in my hand.

…In other words.

―I... stabbed him?

"C-criminal discovered!"

While I was frozen in shock, a pair of police officers appeared from street.

"The criminal is wearing a black jersey, and is a slender man in his twenties― I've confirmed it!"

I look down at my torso.

I was wearing a black jersey.

Moreover, I was certainly in my late twenties with a slender build.

"W-wait a moment…! I am….!"

I reflexively swing my arms in front while calling out to the police officers.

But..

"H-he's resisting!"

"Y-you're mistaken…. I'm not the slasher…."

"Then what's that in your hand!"

When told that, I check my hand.

Yeah, this is a knife.

And furthermore, it was dyed red with the blood of the criminal I just stabbed.

It was hard to deny it with this circumstantial evidence so I became flustered.

I was stunned.

And then of all things.

"Hey.. Hey hey hey.. just wait a moment, I am…..!"

Stuttering intensely, I tried to run over to the police officers.

Of course, it happened to be while I was still waving the bloody knife in my hand…..

Even if I was at the end of my wits, I must admit that I should have been more composed somehow.

"D-don't come any closer…!"

The police officer warned, holding his gun out.

I was enraged, but I also came to my senses after seeing the senior police officer's stern expression and the gun pointing at me.

However.

"Eep, uwahhh!"

This time the young police officer panicked.

"O-oi.. stop it….!"

I could feel the pressure rising with every passing second. 

This is getting serious...

If I kept this up, the newbie might act recklessly. 

I couldn't believe they sent a rookie to a mass murder scene amid all this chaos.

Sure, training is important, but why throw him into a situation he clearly didn't understand?

To show I meant no harm, I quickly tossed my knife aside and lifted my head, shouting, "I surrender, but let me explain!"

Fortunately, this caught the old officer's attention. 

He lowered his gun, casting a skeptical glance at the newbie.

He walked over to the blonde girl and asked, "Are you okay?"

She looked completely shaken, her face pale from everything that had just happened. "Ye-yes, I... I am okay," she stammered.

"Good. Aron, arrest these two and take them to the station," the officer instructed.

So, the newbie's name was Aron.

"But, sir, he's bleeding badly!" Aron said, clearly concerned.

The officer paused, realizing his mistake. "Oh, right. Here's the plan: you take this guy and the girl to the station, and I'll get the bleeding man to the hospital."

"Okay, sir! But what should we do about the dead and injured victims?" Aron asked, determined.

"Call all the ambulances from the nearest hospital right away. Do it now." The old man said....

Now was my chance. I should have signaled the officer about the bomb hidden in my jacket.

"Officer—urghhhh! Shit!" I began to say, just as I was about to get the words out.

**Bang**

**Bang**

**Bang**

The gunshots echoed through my body, one after another.

With each shot, a searing pain surged through my chest.

The shock overwhelmed me, and my mind went blank.

In the next moment, all hope faded away.

In my fading vision, I saw the guy with the gun smiling as he stood in the same spot, firing in random directions.

What the heck! Did he understand something about what I was going to do?

Ughhhhhh... It doesn't matter; he was going to kill me anyway...

That was the last thing I saw before collapsing to the ground, my vision fading to black.

"This... Is... Life... Where... Every body fucks in important... moments... just... like I... did..."

My lungs haemorrhaged after those murmurs.

And just like that, my life came to an end.

Or so, I thought...