**“Yes, if the fate of the world you are currently in is shaped, you can return to your original world.”**

Seongho closed his eyes tightly, cupping his face with both hands, and lowered his head.

Hearing the answer, it felt like he could finally breathe again.

‘I can go back.’

If that’s the case, he would do whatever it took to return.

Seongho, now determined, refocused on the *Pioneer's Cradle*.

He spent more time organizing his thoughts than before.

Finally, the anxiety that had settled in his chest was voiced aloud.

“What happens if I don’t manage to shape the world’s fate? What will happen to me?”

**“You will share the world’s fate.”**

There was no need to ask what that meant.

In *The Savior of the Destroyed World*, this world was doomed.

If he couldn’t change that fate, Seongho would perish with it.

“These bastards...!”

Before he even processed his thoughts, the curse slipped out.

Unable to control his anger, Seongho slammed his fist into the *Pioneer's Cradle* and squeezed his eyes shut.

He had to use all his strength to suppress the tidal wave of emotion threatening to spill out.

Shouting might have brought some relief in the moment.

But the hospital staff would come rushing in, alerted by the noise.

Then, he’d have to make up some ridiculous excuse to avoid further trouble.

‘Better not make a scene.’

Throwing a tantrum wouldn’t change anything.

Worst-case scenario, it would just ruin his relationship with the Fate Pioneer team.

In the end, the system and the Fate Pioneer team were the ones sharing his goal, not Seongho himself.

Although it disgusted him to work with the ones who had thrown him into this misery, it was wiser to find a way to cooperate than to lash out.

Seongho’s ragged breath began to steady.

He had managed to quell his emotional turmoil and now stared down at the *Pioneer's Cradle* again.

‘Three Contribution Points remaining.’

If there’s information I need to check…

“What is the location where the drug trafficking, cannibalism, and New Human Society incidents begin?”

**“19 Contribution Points are required for the answer. Do you wish to proceed? (Y/N)”**  
**“You do not have enough Contribution Points.”**

Seongho unconsciously clenched his hands tightly.

The message didn’t say the answer was unavailable.

‘As long as I can pay the price, I can access information from the original world that I didn’t know.’

He had been struggling with how little he knew about the events in Gangbuk.

This new opportunity was an unexpected breakthrough.

Taking a deep breath to calm himself, Seongho refocused on the message.

‘19 Contribution Points required…’

This time, the cost was much higher than with the previous questions.

It seemed the amount of Contribution Points required changed depending on the type of question.

‘It’s not clear what the criteria are for determining the amount needed, but...’

I’ll figure it out as I gather more data.

‘To make progress, I’ll need to ask the *Pioneer's Cradle* a lot of questions.’

For that, I need Contribution Points.

This meant Seongho had to go out hunting zombies again.

Gathering his strength, Seongho stood up and braced himself.

---

**Later...**

After finishing breakfast, Seongho arrived at the underground cafeteria, where he noticed a familiar face in the food line.

“Im Chan.”

Perhaps a key figure from the original story.

“Ah… Hello.”

Im Chan looked drastically aged overnight.

His eyes were swollen, almost twice their normal size, to the point that they were barely recognizable.

‘He must have been with his daughter all night.’

Seongho felt uncomfortable having learned about his situation so suddenly.

Was this what it felt like for the thief to feel guilty?

But despite the discomfort, Seongho couldn’t avoid talking to Im Chan.

The reason Seongho stayed in the hospital was partly to learn more about this man.

He shook off his hesitation and started the conversation.

“Here for breakfast?”

“Yes, yes... My daughter told me to eat before I came…”

Im Chan’s expression lacked any vitality as he spoke.

Seongho couldn’t shake the feeling that talking to him was somehow wrong.

But there was no escaping this conversation.

He was here to learn about Im Chan, after all.

Before Seongho could say anything else, Ji-young stepped in.

“Don’t worry too much! Ji-yo might be immune, you know?”

She came over with a food tray and began patting Im Chan’s shoulder with her free hand.

“You’re only stressing yourself out over something uncertain. There’s no need to worry so much.”

Seongho stared at her in disbelief.

Was she really trying to comfort him?

What if Ji-yo wasn’t immune? What would Im Chan think then?

Seongho frowned as Ji-young handed the food tray to Im Chan.

“Are you going to eat in the ward again today? Take mine first. I can get more later.”

“...Thank you.”

Im Chan accepted the tray and left the cafeteria.

Seongho clicked his tongue internally, but he couldn’t stop Im Chan from leaving.

‘It would be weird if someone who just met him last night tried to comfort him.’

Besides, Im Chan hadn’t shared his troubles with anyone.

Seongho couldn’t just stand idly by either.

He glanced toward the entrance of the cafeteria with a frown and then suddenly turned his head.

‘Well, I don’t have to ask the person directly.’

Rather than asking Im Chan, he could try gathering information from those around him.

The perfect candidate for that was standing right next to him.

Ji-young, who had just interrupted his chance to speak with Im Chan.

“Do you know if Im Chan has a tattoo on the back of his neck and his shoulder?”

“That’s an odd question.”

Ji-young, standing behind Seongho while waiting her turn, responded with a slightly confused look.

But when Seongho stared at her, waiting for an answer, she eventually spoke.

“Yes, I know.”

“Do you know why he got it?”

“I heard he got it because Ji-yo liked butterflies.”

“Ji-yo?”

“Im Chan’s daughter. She always has to be carried by him when she sleeps, and he got it so she could see it when she woke up. Ji-yo really loves butterflies.”

“Ha.”

A sound that was almost a laugh escaped Seongho’s lips.

Im Chan’s story was eerily similar to that of a minor character from *The Savior of the Destroyed World*.

This couldn’t be just a coincidence.

‘This...’

It seemed like Im Chan was indeed the *Butterfly* from *The Savior of the Destroyed World*.

Recalling the original information, Seongho’s expression turned serious.

*Butterfly* was a major figure involved in the production of the various drugs circulating in Seoul and Gyeonggi during the latter half of the story.

Moreover, he had awakened a rare and highly useful ability in this apocalyptic world.

The more important piece of information was...

‘In the original story, *Butterfly*’s daughter never appeared.’

Considering the events and the apocalyptic setting, it seemed likely that his daughter had died by the time *Butterfly* appeared.

‘Was her death the trigger for his descent into darkness?’

In the original, *Butterfly* was a severe drug addict.

Could it be that after his daughter’s death, he turned to drugs to cope?

‘If only I could stop her death before it happens...’

Seongho’s eyes shifted back toward the entrance of the cafeteria just as he heard a frantic voice approaching.

“Seungjo! Seungjo!”

A middle-aged woman rushed into the cafeteria, looking pale and frantic.

The sudden commotion drew the attention of everyone nearby.

Ji-young, who had been with Seongho, was the first to step forward.

“Auntie, what’s wrong? Dad went out this morning.”

The middle-aged woman immediately grabbed Ji-young.

She wasn’t looking for Seungjo; it seemed she wanted to relay news to Ji-young instead.

“The ward, the ward!”

“The ward? What’s wrong?”

“Mutation! The fever symptoms have started! I told you! Everyone who got bitten yesterday is definitely infected!”

As soon as the woman’s words ended, everyone in the cafeteria froze.

It was as if they were watching a broken clock.

“It’s chaos! The people in charge of managing the ward are trying to hold them back, but they’ve already called for help!”

Before the middle-aged woman had finished speaking, Seongho had already jumped to his feet and rushed out.

“Seongho-ssi! Wait for me!”

A few people, including Ji-young, followed behind him.

Their families, lovers, and friends were in the ward.

‘The people were bitten just yesterday.’

According to the original, infected people would mutate between two and three days after being bitten.

But signs of mutation had appeared in just one day.

This meant the infected must have been frail.

Younger people, the elderly, or those with underlying health conditions often mutated faster.

Seongho clenched his teeth and ran faster, hearing the desperate screams as he neared the quarantine ward.

“No! My daughter’s not like that! Ji-yo’s immune!”

Looking through the door, he saw Im Chan writhing in agony

.

People were struggling to drag him away from his daughter, who lay limp, discarded on the floor.

The child’s body was emitting what looked like steam, possibly a symptom of high fever caused by mutation.

She seemed unconscious.

“Im-sensei, stop it! You’re only making it harder on yourself!”

“Someone take the child elsewhere!”

“Ji-yo, Ji-yo! Open your eyes! We promised we’d sing the butterfly song today, okay? Ji-yo? Please, please don’t leave me!”

The heartbreaking scene in front of him made Seongho grit his teeth.

Could the child he had heard singing that strange song the previous night really be the same one?

The growing turmoil inside him was overwhelming, but Seongho pushed through it as he tried to focus.

‘What should I do?’

If he saved Im Chan’s daughter here, it would definitely change the future of the original story.

‘Wouldn’t that be defying fate?’

This was what he was brought here for, and it was something he had to do to return to his original world.

But he wasn’t sure whether revealing his abilities in this situation was the right thing to do.

It wasn’t a last resort to save her life.

He could still hide his abilities, so why should he reveal them?

As Seongho pondered, Ji-young stepped forward into the chaos.

She tried to carry the unconscious child, but things didn’t go smoothly.

“Don’t touch my daughter!”

“Ah! It hurts! It hurts!”

“Oh, Im-sensei!”

“Please stop!”

As soon as Ji-young tried to pick up the child, Im Chan lost control, grabbing her hair and shouting.

The others tried to pull him away, but in the struggle, his shirt shifted, revealing the butterfly tattoo on his neck.

The unmistakable mark of *Butterfly* flashed before Seongho’s eyes.

He slammed his fist into the ground.

“*Cough!*”

At the same time, the child’s body jerked violently, convulsing on the floor.