novelraw Chapter 135: it’s starting.
Chapter 135: it’s starting.
But he didn’t close the book.
Of course he didn’t
Time didn’t rush him.
It just... went.
Si Hon stayed where he was the entire time, the book open in his hands, eyes moving steadily from one panel to the next without rushing. He read it all. Every loop. Every failure. Jisoo running, fighting, calculating— then breaking. Again. And again. And again.
He saw her try to save them.
Saw her fail.
Saw her hesitate less each time.
The panels blurred together at some point, not because they were the same— but because the outcome always was. Hope, attempt, collapse. Hope, attempt, collapse. Until even hope started to look like a mistake.
At one point, she cried.
Not loud, not dramatic— just sitting there, shoulders shaking slightly, like she didn’t even have the energy to react properly anymore.
Then later—
Nothing.
No tears. No anger. No hesitation.
Just movement.
Clean. Efficient. Empty.
Si Hon’s eyes stayed on the pages the entire time, his expression barely shifting, but something in his gaze tightened little by little the deeper he went.
Near the end, it almost looked like she would make it. Everything lined up better than before. Her movements were cleaner, faster, more precise. The panels stretched that moment just enough to build that feeling—
Observing.
Waiting to see if this time would be different.
It wasn’t.
The last few pages came faster.
Jisoo almost made it.
Closer than before. Further than any previous attempt. The panels stretched that moment out just enough to make it feel like this might be it— like everything was finally about to change.
This time.
Maybe this time.
And then—
It failed.
Just like the rest.
The next page reset everything.
[November 29th.]
Same classroom. Same light. Same seat.
Jisoo was back.
"I’ve lived this day 4,851 times."
Like nothing ever happened.
And that was it.
The comic ended right there.
No explanation. No reward. No "next time will be different."
Just reset.
Si Hon stared at the last page for a second longer than needed, eyes resting on it like he was expecting something else to show up. Another panel. A hidden message.
Nothing came.
Silence.
Then—
He moved.
Fast.
The book snapped shut in his hands with a sharp crack.
For a split second, he just held it there— fingers tight around the cover, jaw set— like he was deciding what to do with it.
Then he threw it.
It hit the sandy ground beside him with a heavy thud, dust kicking up slightly as it landed and slid just a little across the surface.
Si Hon stood up right after.
No rush. No hesitation.
Just one smooth motion as he rose to his feet, gaze locked on the book like it had personally offended him.
And then—
He stepped on it.
Hard.
The first stomp drove it deeper into the sand, the cover bending under the force. Dust puffed out around his feet the sound dull but sharp enough in the quiet space.
Then again.
Another stomp— heavier this time, more force behind it, like he was trying to grind the frustration out through his feet.
And again.
And again.
Each step came down with no rhythm, no restraint— just repeated impact, the book flattening further into the sand with every hit, pages crumpling inside, edges twisting out of shape.
"This is so FUCKING TRASH!!"
His voice snapped out with it, loud and raw, matching the force behind every stomp as he finally let it out.
And right on cue—
A voice rang out.
Loud. Bright. Way too cheerful for everything that just happened.
"Hello!!! Is everyone finally here?"
It didn’t come from one direction. It echoed from everywhere at once— above, around, beneath, like the entire space had decided to speak. The moment the words settled, something answered it.
Noise.
A massive wave of it.
A massive roar surged from all sides, layered voices crashing together into something overwhelming, filling the entire space without leaving a single corner quiet. It wasn’t just noise. It had weight. Presence. Like thousands of people reacting at once, all focused on the same moment.
Si Hon blinked once, the sound hitting him a second later than everything else.
Then he slowly lifted his head.
And sigh hard.
His hand then came up, tapping lightly against his chin as he took it in without rushing. "Huh."
That was all he said.
But inside—
It clicked.
Time.
It had already passed.
The two hours— gone.
While he was reading, while he was sitting there, everything had moved forward without him even noticing. No warning. No pause. Just... gone.
"Well then!" the announcer continued, voice cutting through the noise easily, like it had control over the entire place. "That means it’s time!!!"
The crowd swelled again, louder this time, reacting like they’d been waiting for that exact line.
Announcer:"To pick what we will do!"
Si Hon’s eyes narrowed slightly at that, his hand still resting near his chin as he stood there, surrounded by noise.
"Pick what," he muttered under his breath, quieter now, but sharper. "Again?"
Silence...
"Shit... yeah. I forgot," Si Hon muttered under his breath, the realization settling in without much panic. "We had that roleplay thing... damn... I forgot I’m in an underground arena... and I’m stuck here with the prisoners, till Seorin saves me."
He exhaled lightly, more annoyed at himself than anything else, fingers brushing his chin as his eyes drifted across the space— then paused.
Something shifted.
It started small. A faint tremble beneath the shelves around him, barely noticeable at first, like the structure was adjusting its weight. Then it grew. The wood creaked, the rows of books rattling softly as the entire line of shelves began to lift.
Not fast.
Not violently.
Just... rising.
Si Hon’s gaze followed it upward, his head tilting slightly as the shelves continued to ascend, inch by inch, like something unseen had decided to pull them out of the ground itself.
"Not that," he muttered quietly, eyes narrowing just a bit.
He looked higher.
The ceiling.
Or what passed for one.
That black smoke layer up above— thick, unmoving before— now looked different. It wasn’t spreading or dropping.
It was waiting.
The shelves kept rising toward it.
And the moment they got close—
They disappeared.
The moment the top edge touched the black smoke, it was swallowed completely, like it had been erased the second it crossed that line. No sound followed. No sand fell back down. The shelves didn’t collapse—
They simply stopped existing. In short... they Disappeared, duh...
Si Hon watched it happen without moving, his eyes tracking the motion as more and more shelves lifted into the air, vanishing one after another into the darkness above. The space around him started to open up fast, the tight rows clearing out as if the place was being stripped down in real time.
And in that clearing—
He saw more.
People.
Actual people scattered across the area, now visible as the shelves moved out of the way. Some were standing still, confused. Some were already moving— arguing, shouting, trying to figure out something. A few were even still fighting.
Right beside him—
Han.
The kid was staring upward, eyes wide, the excitement from earlier completely gone, replaced by pure shock as he watched the shelves disappear into nothing. The comic book in his hands flickered—
Then vanished.
Just like that.
No drop. No transition.
Han:"My book... ಠ_ಠ...?"
Gone from his grip in just mid second.
Han blinked hard, looking down at his empty hands like he couldn’t process it.
"Dad—" he started, voice tight, confused.
But Si Hon didn’t answer right away.
His attention stayed upward, following the last few shelves as they rose, slower now, like the process was nearing its end. One by one, they reached that black smoke.
And disappeared.
Until there was nothing left to take.
Then—
It stopped.
The space settled.
The black smoke above returned to stillness, like it had never moved at all.
What remained was simple.
Sand beneath their feet.
Open space stretching wide in every direction.
And above—
That same fake sun, hanging there like nothing had changed.
Si Hon stood there quietly, one hand still near his chin, eyes moving across the now empty arena, taking in everything that had just been revealed— the people, the space, the shift.
"Yeah," he muttered under his breath. "Alright."
...
Sorry, for like... Only publishing 1 each day... I feel tired and exhausted, my dad is... Scolding me... About why am I even writing... I like writing... I said, then... He immediately mentioned about, "I remember you said you can get paid. Where is it now?" And... He... Idk...
Whenever he’s angry he just takes it out on me... It’s hard guys... Sorry... Btw... I’ll try and post more tomorrow... Sorry for taking y’all time.. love y’all, wish y’all a good day, and tomorrow and tomorrow... Bye bye...
Sorry again for only publishing 1 ata time.