There Is No World For ■■

Question 21. Which of the following statements about the global situation after the opening of the Berlin dimensional gate is incorrect?

『Lord Howe Academy Entrance Exam, Social Studies Section (Modern History)』

In every event in the world, there are always subtle, unforeseen deviations.

Deviations so minute that no one pays them any mind.

Most of these deviations vanish without causing any change.

But sometimes, such deviations lead to massive, unpredictable transformations.

Some call it the butterfly effect; others refer to it as chaos theory.

Yet at this very moment, the author, who was reincarnated into this novel, could think of neither.

Facing the monumental change brought about by an unpredicted deviation, he could only say one thing:

“Damn it.”

He gathered mana he didn’t even have to sharpen his vision, and beyond the dim tunnel, he saw something spilling from above.

Unlike the other students, who were focused solely on the new transfer student and his group, he immediately recognized the identity of what was pouring into the tunnel.

Zombies.

Not the cheap kind that couldn’t even scratch a superhuman’s skin. Each one of these creatures was crafted with hatred and madness, a custom product of a deranged necromancer.

But why?

Why were zombies, which should have appeared in the prologue—in the bloody entrance ceremony—suddenly here now?

He had no way of knowing. Not that knowing would change anything.

‘Gotta get out.’

An instinctive thought arose. But a rebuttal followed immediately after. To where?

The door to the shelter was locked tight, and zombies were pouring out of the tunnel. There was no escape route, not even a weapon to defend himself with.

It was truly a hopeless situation, but the author alone felt the despair.

The students in the shelter, oblivious to the approaching threat, were busy expressing their thoughts about the transfer student’s victory.

“We’re safe...”

One, relieved by the victory.

“Acted all serious, but it wasn’t that big a deal, was it?”

Another, bragging with misplaced arrogance.

“How could anyone...”

And one who was frightened by Cheonyeomyeong’s ruthlessness.

‘These idiots...’

The author gritted his teeth, surveying the students’ faces.

Some had belatedly noticed the squirming mass behind them, but most had already released their enhanced vision, looking relieved.

They had already begun to relax when they should have been prepared to fight for their lives. It didn’t take a genius to guess what would happen next.

Most of these students in the shelter would end up as zombie fodder.

‘If they’re going to die, let them die.’

The author hunched over and moved to the back of the group.

He deliberately chose not to warn them of the zombies’ approach. He needed time to withdraw.

Thankfully, reaching the far wall was easy enough. The other students had surged forward to greet the transfer student and his group.

Did he feel guilty about hiding the truth from his peers and using them as meat shields? Not at all.

These were the same people who, in the original story, were meant to drop dead in the entrance ceremony.

‘Just survive until the academy’s rescue team arrives. Then I’ll make it out.’

Normally, he would have clung to the strong for survival... but all the first-year elites, except for one, had followed Cheonyeomyeong out of the shelter.

And that one remaining elite wasn’t much use in this situation, so using the other students as a meat shield was...

Just as the author’s thoughts went down that path—

Cheonyeomyeong’s voice boomed, reverberating through the tunnel.

“Grab every weapon you can as you back away!”

His urgent tone was enough for even the dimwitted students to realize that it wasn’t over yet. Only then did unrest spread among them.

“What’s going on? Is there more?”

“Look—back there!”

“Zombies?”

The students’ murmuring didn’t escalate too much.

It was common knowledge that regular zombies weren’t much of a threat to a superhuman.

But the moment Cheonyeomyeong and his group, armed to the teeth, arrived at the broken wall, every student fell silent.

“Damn it, almost died picking up these weapons!”

Wesley, ranked fourth in the entrance scores for superhumans, bore marks of teeth and claw scratches all over his body.

A sight that defied common sense.

And following him, zombies filled the tunnel.

“Ahhhh!”

Chaos broke out in the shelter once more, starting with the scream of a nameless student.

Right in front of the collapsed wall of the shelter.

“Uhhh...”

Cheonyeomyeong’s gaze grew dark as he stared at the zombies slowly filling the tunnel.

He had discovered an unforeseen flaw in his own martial arts.

‘...Not a single technique that’s suited for prolonged combat.’

His martial arts were inherently tailored to short, decisive fights.

Techniques like his Vigorous Arts and Bloodstream Acceleration pushed his body to its limits, disregarding any aftereffects.

Pa-Yang-Gyeol and Comet Blade consumed massive amounts of mana, proportional to their power.

These extreme techniques hadn’t been a problem so far, as he’d only ever faced opponents as strong or stronger than himself.

But faced with countless zombies, he realized the deadly flaw of such skewed techniques.

If an opponent aimed to drain his strength with numbers and force him into a war of attrition, he would suffer a one-sided disadvantage.

Hadn’t his fight with the Horse Head in Manju gone exactly like that?

The corrupted mercenaries had worn him down, delaying him from finishing off the Horse Head.

Cheonyeomyeong quietly pondered his options. Once he identified the problem, a solution came to him quickly.

‘A martial art designed for prolonged combat... something that uses mana efficiently.’

The first person he thought of was Pasun, the demon who had used the most diverse techniques he’d ever seen.

He was a formidable foe with a lot to learn from.

From energy blasts to flying techniques, Pasun had broadened Cheonyeomyeong’s horizons when he was just beginning to learn martial arts.

If only he were alive, Cheonyeomyeong would have liked to “train” with him under the guise of a fight once more. But the demon lay in the mortuary of the Manju base.

And it was none other than Cheonyeomyeong who had made him a corpse, so there was nothing to regret.

In any case, Cheonyeomyeong began to recall Pasun’s techniques.

Especially the one where Pasun emitted mana from his body like a heat haze.

Although he couldn’t grasp the essence well enough to replicate it, he thought he might imitate it just enough to achieve decent efficiency.

Lost in these thoughts that would terrify other superhumans if they could hear them—

“Cheonyeomyeong, don’t worry too much.”

Soemiri placed a hand on his shoulder, though it trembled slightly, betraying her words.

“...The academy’s rescue team will be here soon. All we have to do is hold out until then.”

Her voice was serious, her expression resolute. Clearly, she had mistaken his contemplation for anxiety.

“The way you handled the last fight was impressive too, wasn’t it?”

She had no way of knowing his true state of mind, but Cheonyeomyeong understood. She was trying to bolster his confidence, summoning courage just for his sake.

Perhaps that’s why he couldn’t bring himself to say that the zombies, no matter how many, posed no real problem for him—and that he wasn’t anxious at all but had been thinking about martial arts techniques.

So he remained silent... and Soemiri found even more courage to continue.

“Today... no one in this shelter will die. Because we’ll make sure of it.”

“....”

Cheonyeomyeong stayed quiet again. Regardless of the fairy princess’s resolve, he had little interest in saving anyone else’s life.

As long as Seti, the Saintess, and Soemiri made it through, that was enough.

As for the others, who he didn’t even know...

At that moment, Wesley stepped in between them.

“Nice speech.”

“....”

“Superhumans should have that kind of guts.”

Wesley said this while glancing around at the rest of the group. Jun Yunseong, the Saintess, Seti, Ms. Gemini... each one wore a serious expression, clearly agreeing with Soemiri’s words.

‘...Even Seti?’

When Cheonyeomyeong looked at her in disbelief, Seti gestured toward the shelter.

Following her gaze, he saw a red-haired girl smirking at him.

‘...Siri? Oh, right.’

Seti’s sisters had also joined the academy.

In an instant, he erased his earlier plan to use the Golden Seal to open the shelter door and escape.

‘...Might as well treat this as a martial arts test.’

The decision was brief, and his actions swift. Cheonyeomyeong raised his sword and aimed it at the approaching zombies.

Just as he prepared to charge, Soemiri spoke again.

“Cheonyeomyeong.”

“What?”

“...A final word of resolve would be nice.”

He was about to object, but she added—

“It would help. After all, you’re the one who brought us all together.”

It was a strangely perfect moment.

The zombies were mere steps from the shelter, and every gaze was on him.

“...Don’t die. I don’t want our first academy meal to be at a funeral.”

Even Cheonyeomyeong found his words embarrassingly sentimental.

Unable to bear the thought that someone might notice, he rushed at the zombies.

Of course, to others, it didn’t look like an act at all.

***

In the unprecedented crisis of the academy’s invasion, there was only one reaction from the staff:

Rage.

Security guards composed of superhumans and even the mages who had secluded themselves in the magic department poured outside to pursue the attackers.

The enemy was a group of unidentified terrorists armed with firearms.

Their target was the northern island, where hardly any students were present.

It seemed fortuitous that the entire student body was gathered in a joint class at the time... but that was precisely what the enemy had planned.

The attackers used a method no one would have anticipated to target the students.

Zombies.

A vast horde of zombies had landed on the island, enough to fill the entire coastline.

By the time communication was restored and the staff understood the situation, the zombies had already surrounded the students.

The Australian military and the U.S. Navy had mobilized to protect the academy, but it would take at least two hours for them to arrive.

The academy was forced to make a choice.

Which year should they rescue first?

The first-year class with the Saintess and the Vessel?

The second-year class with royalty from beyond the dimensional gate?

Or the third-year class with the grandson of the U.S. president?

The teachers argued that they should save all the classes simultaneously, but reality was harsh. They lacked the troops and the time.

A wrong decision could mean losing every class.

The time for deliberation was short, and the choice was brutal.

The academy staff initially decided to rescue the first-years, considering the Saintess and the Vessel’s crucial importance.

But the headmaster had a different idea. She divided the forces between the second and third years instead of prioritizing the first.

“Are you suggesting we abandon all the first-years?”

The teachers’ protests grew louder, but the headmaster’s resolve was unwavering.

No one could change her mind. To be precise, there wasn’t enough time to do so.

With half-hearted acceptance and half-faith in the headmaster, the staff began battling the zombie horde.

After fighting the endless waves of zombies for several minutes, a hero descended upon the school to save them from their dire situation.

The Sacred Sword, Freya Khan.

As she swept through thousands of zombies with a single strike, the staff called out to her in desperate voices.

“Sacred Sword! Please, save the first-years first!”

But strangely, Freya Khan’s response wasn’t much different from the headmaster’s stance.

“The first-years? Why? The Saintess and that kid are with them.”

After swiftly rescuing the third-year shelter, the Sacred Sword turned toward the second-year shelter, leaving behind just one comment.

A comment that would have repercussions no one could predict.

“If they can’t handle a few zombies, I wouldn’t have given them the Comet Blade in the first place.”