## Chapter 1 — A Face That Brought Disaster

## Chapter 1 — A Face That Brought Disaster

Rainwater dripped from the broken ceiling in slow, uneven sounds.

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

Anshika stared at the stain spreading across the corner of her tiny apartment ceiling and slowly blinked.

The landlord had promised to repair it three months ago.

He had smiled while saying it too.

Then two days later he started “accidentally” brushing against her shoulder whenever she passed him in the hallway.

After she shoved him hard enough to nearly make him fall down the stairs, the repair promise mysteriously disappeared.

Typical.

People always became ugly eventually.

She closed the worn textbook in front of her with visible irritation.

The old wooden table shook slightly.

Everything in the apartment looked miserable.

Peeling walls.

Weak yellow lights.

Cheap furniture.

A tiny kitchen that smelled faintly of dampness no matter how much she cleaned.

Even the air itself felt poor.

Anshika leaned back in her chair and rubbed her temple tiredly.

Her body hurt.

She had attended university classes during the day, worked six hours at a convenience store afterward, and returned home barely thirty minutes ago.

It was almost midnight.

And she still had assignments unfinished.

A sudden vibration came from her phone.

She picked it up lazily.

The class group chat was active again.

Her expression instantly became colder.

She should have muted it.

“Did you see the professor today? He kept staring at Anshika again lol.”

“Of course he did. Men lose IQ points around her.”

“She acts innocent but definitely enjoys attention.”

“Honestly girls like her are always trouble.”

“Maybe if she smiled more instead of acting arrogant.”

Anshika stared at the messages silently.

Then she exited the chat.

No anger.

No sadness.

Just boredom.

People were predictable.

Beautiful girls were loved only from a distance.

Once beauty entered the same room as them, envy started crawling out.

She had learned that lesson at seven years old.

The orphanage caretaker used to force her to eat separately because the older girls constantly picked fights with her.

“She thinks she’s prettier than everyone.”

“She’s trying to steal attention.”

“She acts too cold.”

At first, Anshika had tried explaining herself.

Then she realized something important.

People decided who you were before you even spoke.

After that, she stopped wasting energy.

Another message appeared privately.

Unknown Number.

Her eyes narrowed slightly.

She opened it.

“You rejected me in front of everyone. Happy now?”

“Girls like you think beauty lasts forever.”

“You’ll regret acting proud one day.”

Anshika snorted softly.

Arjun.

The same senior who had cornered her behind the university library two days ago.

The same one who smiled politely in public while grabbing her wrist hard enough to leave bruises when nobody looked.

The same one who called her a bitch after she kneed him in the stomach.

She blocked the number immediately.

Then she tossed the phone onto the table carelessly.

Outside, loud laughter echoed through the apartment corridor.

Children.

Anshika’s eyebrows twitched.

The neighbors’ kids were running around again.

A few seconds later came a crash.

Then crying.

Then adults yelling.

Her headache worsened.

People always talked about children like they were innocent angels.

Anshika hated that.

Children could be unbelievably cruel.

When she was younger, the orphanage children used to lock her inside storage rooms for fun.

They stole her food.

Destroyed her notebooks.

Cut her hair while she slept once.

And afterward they cried dramatically whenever adults questioned them.

The adults believed them almost every time.

Because beautiful children apparently could not be victims.

Only troublemakers.

Anshika stood up and walked toward the tiny refrigerator.

Inside was almost nothing.

Half a bottle of water.

Two eggs.

Expired yogurt.

She stared at the nearly empty fridge for several silent seconds.

Then closed it.

Not hungry anymore.

Her gaze moved toward the mirror hanging beside the kitchen.

For a moment, she simply looked at herself.

Long black hair falling over pale skin.

Sharp eyes.

Soft lips.

A face people constantly described with words she no longer cared about.

Beautiful.

Mesmerizing.

Perfect.

What a joke.

If beauty truly made life easy, she would not be calculating whether she could afford electricity next month.

A loud knock suddenly echoed from the door.

Bang.

Bang.

Bang.

Anshika’s expression instantly darkened.

Nobody visited her.

Another knock came.

“Anshika!”

Male voice.

Drunk.

Her annoyance deepened immediately.

She walked toward the door quietly and looked through the peephole.

Three young men stood outside.

One of them was visibly intoxicated.

Another leaned lazily against the wall while smiling.

Her stomach twisted with disgust.

University boys.

“How did they even find my address?” she muttered.

The drunk one knocked again.

“Come on, don’t act cold.”

“We just wanna talk.”

His friend laughed.

“She probably thinks she’s too good for us.”

“Open the door, princess.”

Anshika unlocked the kitchen drawer silently.

Inside lay a small utility knife.

Not because she was paranoid.

Because being beautiful and living alone forced women to prepare for things.

The drunk boy suddenly tried the doorknob.

Her eyes became dangerous.

“Open it yourself before I get angry!” he shouted.

Anshika opened the door instantly.

The boys visibly froze.

Even drunk, their eyes widened slightly after seeing her up close.

That reaction always happened.

Always.

Her cold gaze swept across them.

“What?” she asked flatly.

The drunk boy regained confidence quickly.

He grinned.

“There you are.”

“We just came to invite you somewhere.”

“No.”

Her answer came immediately.

The smile on his face stiffened.

“You didn’t even hear where.”

“Still no.”

One of his friends clicked his tongue.

“Why act like this? We’re being nice.”

Anshika nearly laughed.

Nice.

Men always called themselves nice before becoming aggressive.

The drunk one stepped closer.

His eyes openly moved across her body.

“You know,” he said slowly, “girls shouldn’t act too arrogant.”

“There’s always someone prettier.”

Anshika’s face remained emotionless.

“But unfortunately for you,” she replied calmly, “that someone isn’t standing here.”

For a second, complete silence filled the corridor.

Then one friend burst out laughing.

The drunk boy’s face instantly darkened with humiliation.

“You bitch—”

Before he finished speaking, Anshika raised the utility knife slightly.

Not dramatically.

Not shakily.

Casually.

Like she genuinely would use it.

The atmosphere changed immediately.

“You have five seconds to leave,” she said.

Her voice remained calm.

Which somehow felt more threatening.

The boys exchanged glances.

The drunk one looked furious, but not furious enough to test whether she was bluffing.

“Crazy psycho,” he spat.

Then they finally left.

Their footsteps disappeared down the staircase.

Anshika closed the door quietly.

Locked it.

Then leaned against it with tired eyes.

“…Annoying.”

That was all.

No tears.

No panic attack.

This kind of thing had happened too many times already.

She returned to her table.

Opened her textbook.

Tried studying.

Failed.

The apartment suddenly felt unbearably small.

Outside, the world kept making noise.

Neighbors arguing.

Children crying.

Motorcycles passing.

People laughing.

Humanity constantly filling silence with ugliness.

Anshika stared blankly at the page before quietly whispering:

“I hate people.”

And she meant it.

Not dramatically.

Not emotionally.

Simply as fact.

A few hours later, exhaustion finally dragged her toward sleep.

She changed clothes lazily and collapsed onto the narrow bed.

Rain continued outside.

The ceiling still leaked.

Cold air entered through the broken window.

But her eyes slowly closed anyway.

Then—

Darkness.

For a brief moment, the world became completely silent.

No rain.

No city sounds.

Nothing.

Anshika frowned in her sleep.

And suddenly—

A mechanical voice echoed inside her mind.

[Ultimate Survival System requests binding approval.]

Her eyes snapped open instantly.

She sat upright.

The apartment remained dark and quiet.

Her heartbeat slowed quickly.

Hallucination?

Stress?

Sleep paralysis?

She rubbed her forehead.

Then the voice returned.

[Host compatibility confirmed.]

[Please accept system binding.]

This time, Anshika’s eyes sharpened completely.

“…Who’s there?”

No response.

Instead, translucent blue screens suddenly appeared before her eyes.

She immediately stood up from the bed.

Unlike most people, she did not scream.

Years of hardship had forced her mind to stay calm during strange situations.

The glowing screen floated silently in darkness.

[Ultimate Survival System]

[Primary objective: Ensure Host survival and comfort under all circumstances.]

[Would Host like to bind?]

Yes / No

Anshika stared at the words.

No fear appeared on her face.

Only suspicion.

Her first thought was not excitement.

It was:

“What’s the catch?”

The system answered instantly.

[No hidden conditions detected.]

Interesting.

“Why me?”

[Compatibility level exceeds required standards.]

“That explains nothing.”

[Host psychological profile suitable for survival.]

Anshika crossed her arms slowly.

“So because I dislike humanity, you chose me?”

[Correction: Host possesses logical emotional restraint.]

“…That’s a fancy way of saying I don’t trust people.”

No response came.

The room became silent again.

Anshika stared at the glowing “Yes” option.

Normally she would assume this was some kind of scam.

But somehow…

Instinctively…

She knew it was real.

And strangely enough, she was not scared.

If anything—

She felt curious.

“What exactly do you do?” she asked.

[System exists to serve Host.]

[System can provide resources, protection, transportation, residence, and survival support.]

[World collapse event begins in seven days.]

That sentence finally made her expression change slightly.

“…World collapse?”

[Confirmed.]

The screen changed.

Images appeared rapidly.

Burning cities.

People fighting.

Collapsed buildings.

Endless heatwaves.

Bodies lying beside dried rivers.

A child crying while holding an empty bottle.

A woman stabbing another woman over food.

Governments failing.

Military panic.

Society breaking apart.

Anshika watched everything silently.

No dramatic disbelief.

No emotional breakdown.

Only careful observation.

“…How long until this happens?”

[Seven days, four hours, twelve minutes.]

Her eyes narrowed slightly.

“Can you really protect me from all of that?”

[Yes.]

“Completely?”

[Yes.]

“No danger at all?”

[Host safety absolute.]

Absolute.

That word lingered in her mind.

For eighteen years, safety had never existed in her life.

Not emotionally.

Not financially.

Not physically.

Even sleeping required caution.

Even walking home required awareness.

And now suddenly—

Something was offering complete protection.

Anshika slowly sat back down on the bed.

Her hair fell loosely over her shoulders.

The blue system light reflected faintly across her face.

She thought for almost a full minute.

Then she asked quietly:

“If I bind with you… will I ever need to beg people for anything again?”

[No.]

That answer decided everything.

Anshika reached toward the glowing screen.

And pressed:

Yes.

The room instantly filled with pale silver light.

[Binding successful.]

[Welcome, Host.]

For the first time in years—

A genuine smile appeared on Anshika’s face.

Small.

Cold.

But real.

Outside, rain continued falling over the sleeping city.

And nobody knew the world was about to end.

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