The fifth one died with a wet, sickening crunch.
It had been a [LVL. 1 - ROOF-SKULKER], a spindly thing with too many joints that had dropped from a fire escape. Ren hadn't hunted it. He hadn't wanted the fight. He had spent the last three hours pressed against the freezing brickwork of the city’s back alleys, moving only when the golden patrols of "Winners" were out of sight and the guttural roars of the monsters were distant.
But the Skulker had been faster than his shadow.
Ren stood over the shriveled remains, his good hand trembling as he pulled it away from the creature's neck. The [Energy Siphon] pulsed a dull, necrotic purple.
[SUCCESSFULLY KILLED 1 LVL. 1 ROOF-SKULKER]
[GAINED XP: 10 (TOTAL XP: 50/300)]
[GAINED 6 FLUX COINS]
Ren didn't feel the victory. He didn't feel the three deep lacerations across his ribs where the Skulker’s claws had found purchase. He didn't feel the cold sweat or the way his muscles were beginning to seize from the walk. The [Pain Nullification] was a silent shroud, keeping the agony at bay while his body literally unraveled.
He looked down at his chest. His hospital gown, once white, was now a dark, sticky canvas of red.
[HEALTH: 3/10]
I’m bleeding out, his thoughts were a calm, detached whisper. I should be screaming. I should be on the ground. But I’m just... standing.
It was a terrifying realization. The System had taken his pain, but it had also taken his warning system. He was a machine with a broken fuel gauge, running on fumes and stolen life. He took a shallow breath, exhaling a plume of grey smoke that dissipated into the pre-dawn mist.
Ren shuffled East, his feet dragging. The skyscrapers began to thin as he approached a local high school. The building was a blackened skeleton, the brickwork crumbling from what looked like a massive, explosive impact. Shards of glass littered the sidewalk like diamonds, and the smell of ozone hung heavy in the air.
Find this and other great novels on the author's preferred platform. Support original creators!
He found what he was looking for tucked under the shadow of the school’s gymnasium: "The Corner Stop," a tiny convenience store with its windows shattered and its door hanging by a single hinge.
He slipped inside. The shelves were skeletons. The milk was a curdled mess on the floor; the bread racks were empty. Ren found a discarded box of heavy-duty gauze and a roll of medical tape in the "Health & Beauty" aisle. With practiced, shaking hands, he stripped the bloody gown. He looked at the gashes on his ribs. Because of [Status Permanence], they wouldn't heal naturally. They would stay as "Active Injuries" until he siphoned enough organic life to overwrite the data.
He bound his chest tightly, the white gauze turning pink almost instantly. He couldn't feel the sting, but he watched his hands shake.
I need a plan, he thought, leaning back against a dead cooler. I have 38 Flux Coins.
He summoned the [VOID SHOP]. The golden UI flickered to life, displaying a marketplace that felt designed to mock him.
[ACTIVE SKILL GACHA: 5,000 FLUX COINS PER PULL]
[PASSIVE SKILL GACHA: 5,000 FLUX COINS PER PULL]
[CLASS EVOLUTION GACHA: 10,000 FLUX COINS PER PULL]
[GENERAL ITEMS & EQUIPMENT]
Ren’s lip curled. Five thousand coins? He had just risked his life for six. At this rate, he would need to kill a thousand monsters just to roll the dice once. The gap between him and the "Winners" was a mountain range. He scrolled to the [GENERAL ITEMS] section, but his heart sank.
There was no food. No water. No medicine beyond basic bandages. The Shop was a weapon's locker, not a pantry. The System didn't care if its players starved; it only cared if they fought.
He was about to close the window when a blinking red banner caught his eye.
[NEW PLAYER STARTER PACK - LIMITED TIME (6 DAYS REMAINING)]
[ONE PURCHASE PER PLAYER]
[PRICE: 35 FLUX COINS]
Contents:
1x Reinforced Canvas Duffle Bag
1x Set of Thick Tactical Fatigue Clothes
1x Rusty Machete (Generic Weapon)
1x Minor Healing Potion (Restores 5 HP)
1x Minor Mana Potion (Restores 10 Mana)
1x Flint and Steel
1x Plastic Canteen (Empty)
Ren looked at his balance: 38 Coins.
If he bought this, he would be left with 3 coins. He would be betting everything on the machete and the single potion. But he couldn't keep walking in a hospital gown. He couldn't keep fighting with his bare hands.
Buy, he thought.
The 35 coins vanished. In a flash of dull gold light, a heavy canvas bag appeared. Ren didn't waste time. He pulled on the tactical fatigues; the fabric was stiff and smelled of chemicals. It offered no special resistance to the biting cold, but it was thick enough to hide the bandages and the grey mist that seeped from his skin. He strapped the duffle bag to his back and gripped the rusty machete.
He tucked the two small vials—one red, one blue—into the side pocket of the bag. His 3/10 HP was still blinking, but the healing potion felt like a heavy secret sitting in his pocket.
The store was silent. Outside, the first hint of grey dawn was touching the smoke-filled sky. Ren prepared to stand when a sound echoed from the back of the store.
Thump. Thump-clink.
It came from behind the counter, where a heavy wooden trapdoor led to the basement. The sound of something metal being dragged across concrete. Ren froze, his hand tightening on the rusty machete. He didn't feel pain—the venom made sure of that—but his mind cataloged the risk.
Something is down there. And it's not a monster. Monsters don't use metal tools.
A faint, muffled sob drifted up through the floorboards.
Ren looked at the exit. He had his gear. He had his path. He should leave. Maya was twenty miles away, and every second spent in this store was a second he wasn't moving toward her.
But then, he thought of the [Leech Centipede] dropping on the nurse. He thought of the "Winners" who had ignored him because he wasn't "shining."
If it’s a monster, he thought, I’ll siphon them. If it’s a Winner...
He didn't finish the thought. He just moved toward the sound, the rusty machete raised.
