Before the Fall: Rise of the Apocalypse King-Chapter 41: The Fourth Avatar -Kang dae hyun

In South Korea, a young man in his late 20s suddenly woke up from his sleep, surrounded by naked women.

Beads of sweat rolled down his forehead.

He looked around, confused and scared, trying to find something—or maybe someone.

After a few deep breaths, trying to calm his racing heart, he slowly got out of the bed, brushing past soft skin and slapping butts of all shapes and sizes on the way.

Walking over to the fridge, he grabbed a cold beer bottle, opened it, and chugged the whole thing in one go.

Then he took a long breath and started to think.

He was Kang Dae Hyun, a gangster who had done all kinds of illegal stuff. He had died in the apocalypse... and not in some cool way.

Not because of zombies.

Not by monsters.

Not even by those "touched ones" with powers.

He died choking on human shit, drowning in a sewer tunnel like trash. What a shitty death—literally.

But now he was alive again.

"What the hell is going on...?" he muttered.

He didn’t want to think too much about the past. It was messed up.

He had read tons of novelkisss—reincarnation, second chances, system cheats—all of it. He was familiar with this kind of stuff.

Lighting a cigarette, he took a long drag, exhaled the smoke, and stepped onto the balcony.

The cool breeze hit his face and body, calming him a little.

He closed his eyes, then opened them slowly.

"So... what now?" he asked himself.

The apocalypse was coming ... and he had knowledge of the future... why not use it?

Why not take over the world?And become the king or the emporer.

Just like those main characters in the sci-fi novels he loved.

"Am I the MC of this world?" he thought.

Then laughed to himself. "Eh, who cares? I’m me."

He raised his both arms into the air and shouted,

"I now declare myself the King of the New World!"

Silence..... Fu....fu....fuuuu

But nothing happened. Just the wind gently blowing by.😂😂😂😂😂

"...Okay. Maybe next time. In front of people. After I actually become king," he muttered and took another drag.

He stared at the sky and smiled. "But for me to become king, all the other candidates need to die."

The touched ones... the gifted ones.

Or maybe I can hire them as bodyguards?

Naaah... those arrogant freaks would never take orders from someone like me. A normal, untouched guy.

Then a thought hit him.

"Wait... I’m back in the past. Maybe... maybe..."

He got too excited to speak.

His eyes widened. He looked up at the sky like something magical might happen.

"SYSTEM! SYSTEM! WHERE’S MY SYSTEM?! COME ON!"

He waited.

But nothing happened.

"...Damn."

"No system...? Shit," he grumbled, rubbing his face with both hands.

"I am the mother fucking protagonist, bro," he told himself with a frustrated laugh.

He sighed and leaned on the balcony railing.

"Maybe it’s just late... Yeah, systems take time, right?" he said, half-joking. "Let’s not lose hope. Could still show up with a ding or something."

Then his eyes fell on his digital watch.

21st.

His smile slowly faded.

"So today’s the 21st... That means around two months left before the world says bye-bye."

He stood there silently for a second, the sound of city life still buzzing in the distance like everything was normal.

But he knew it wasn’t.

Not for long.

"What the hell do I do now...?" he whispered.

Then, like reality slapped him across the face, his head started pounding.

"Aaahhh! Damn it! My head hurts!" he groaned, holding his temples.

Too many thoughts. Too many memories. Too much pressure.

F*ck this shit... I need a dose," he muttered.

His head was spinning, his thoughts all over the place.

He walked back inside, straight to the drawer. He opened it and pulled out a small pouch.

Inside... white powder.

He didn’t think twice.

He poured a little out, lined it up on the table, rolled up a note, and sniffed it in one sharp breath.

His eyes twitched. Chest rose.

Then, without a word, he fell back onto the bed.

Flat on his back, staring at the ceiling.

The buzzing in his head dulled. The noise of the world faded.

Just for a moment... everything felt quiet.

Calm.

Like the storm in his mind had taken a pause.

But he knew it wouldn’t last.

And the world outside? That storm hadn’t even started yet.

------------

He woke up late in the afternoon.

When he opened his eyes, the bed was empty. All the girls were gone.

"Figures," he muttered, rubbing his eyes.

Dragging himself up, he walked to the bathroom, washed his face, brushed his teeth, and splashed some cold water over his head to shake off the leftover daze.

Then he went to the kitchen, hoping to find something to eat.

Nothing.

"Great. Empty as my bank account," he sighed.

So, he threw on some clothes and stepped out, heading to a nearby street food stall. He grabbed a few cheap but tasty dishes and filled his stomach.

Once he returned to his apartment, he sat down on the couch, staring at the ceiling for a few minutes.

Then he got serious.

Time to plan.

"A wise ruler always has multiple plans," he said to himself with a smirk, remembering something Mr. Harry once said in Dr. Stone anime.

"Alright. What do I need?"

He pulled out his phone and started making a list.

"A base? Nah... I need a stronghold. A place that can survive chaos."

"Food. Tons of food."

"Daily stuff like soap, toothpaste, toilet paper... all that boring but needed junk."

"Alcohol, drugs, medicine—those things will be gold later."

Then he paused and grinned, "Women?"

He shook his head.

"Nah... they’ll come running on their own. No need to chase anyone."

He leaned back and lit a cigarette.

"But for all that... I need money. And a lot of it."

He tapped his fingers on the table, thinking.

Then, suddenly, a grin spread across his face. A lightbulb moment.

"Of course... the gang’s secret accounts. The unnamed ones. Hidden money."

He stood up, feeling the rush of excitement.

"Okay. Everything’s ready. Time to put this plan into motion." He relaxed a little.

Just as he was about to light a cigarette, his phone buzzed.

He looked at the screen.

Boss calling.

He frowned a little. The boss never called unless it was something serious.

He picked up.

"Boss?" he answered.

"We’re having an emergency meeting. Come to the hideout. Now."

Click. The line went dead.

No explanations. No time to waste.

Kang Dae Hyun got up, threw on his jacket, and headed out.

---

About an hour later, he walked into a dimly lit room deep underground, hidden behind a fake laundry shop. The gang’s hideout hadn’t changed. Same rusty smell, same long table, same mix of dangerous faces sitting around.

His boss stood at the front, leaning over a large table map.

"We’ve got one shot at this," the boss said as everyone gathered around.

Dae Hyun’s eyes scanned the map.

As soon as he saw the marked location, his heart stopped for a second.

Central Bank of North Korea.

His mind flashed.

Suddenly, the memories hit him—hard.

This wasn’t just any heist.

This was that heist.

The one from his past life.

The one his boss had planned... and failed.

The one that led to half the crew getting caught or killed.

And the one that caused everything to spiral, making their gang go underground—and eventually die off before the apocalypse even hit.

But now?

Now Dae Hyun was back. With all the knowledge of what went wrong.

He leaned back in his chair and smirked silently.

Jackpot.

He didn’t need to hack into shady bank accounts anymore.

Why settle for small when you can take the whole damn treasure chest?

He stayed quiet during the meeting, just listening.

His boss explained the plan—same as last time. Same dumb mistakes. Same timing. Same weak points.

He remembered every flaw.

After the meeting ended, the team broke into small groups to prepare. fгee𝑤ebɳoveɭ.cøm

But Dae Hyun? He walked away with a plan of his own forming in his head.

"No need to fight over scraps anymore," he whispered under his breath. "I’ll just take it all."

This time, the heist would succeed.

But the money?

All of it would be his.

--------

He got back to his apartment, shut the door behind him, and let out a deep breath.

First things first—he headed to the bathroom, washed his face, and changed into some comfy clothes. A plain t-shirt, loose pants—nothing fancy. Just enough to feel relaxed.

He walked over to the fridge, grabbed a cold beer, popped it open, and took a long sip.

Then he lit a cigarette, letting the smoke roll out slowly as he walked over to the couch and sat down.

He pulled out a plain notebook from the drawer beside him. It looked old and simple, but this wasn’t just any notebook.

This would hold the plan.

His plan.

Not the gang’s plan. Not the boss’s dream.

His own blueprint for Heist.

He took another sip of beer, flicked some ash into the tray, and opened the notebook to a clean page.

"Time to plan this heist my way," he whispered, eyes narrowing.

He already knew everything that would go wrong with the boss’s version. And he was going to use that to his full advantage.

Make it look like the gang was running the show...

But in the end?

They’d walk away with nothing.

And he’d walk away with it all.

He leaned back on the couch, a twisted grin forming on his face.

Low... cold... and evil.

"Let the game begin," he muttered, tapping the pen on the page.

The king had made his first move.

And no one even knew it yet.

==≠====================

Author’s Note:

Roman has chosen the dark path. The world will burn again... but under **his** rule this time.

If you’re enjoying the chaos, don’t forget to:

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Your support helps the story rise — and ensures Roman doesn’t come after *me* for stopping. 😂

See you in the next Chapter!

—Author

This content is taken from fr(e)ewebn(o)vel.𝓬𝓸𝓶