Walking through the ruins at a hurried pace, he finally came upon a building. It was as ruined as all the others, yet it appeared relatively secure.
For several minutes, Kyle felt no inclination to enter, despite its seeming safety.
He hesitated, but when the distant roars of various beasts reached his ears, drawing steadily closer, he abandoned further deliberation.
Producing the bent iron picker, which was damaged but still serviceable as his only means of defence, he stepped inside.
Perhaps fortunately, the building had a door at the entrance that could still be closed. It appeared to have been a recreational establishment — a theatre, to be precise.
It was in a state of considerable disrepair, with most of the posters long since vanished.
Fifty years was hardly a fleeting moment in time, so the door's remaining functionality, with so little damage, came as a surprise.
After entering and securing the door behind him, he was engulfed in complete darkness.
However, thanks to his heightened sight, he could still make out enough to navigate the space and gather a few items.
He noticed several scattered benches and pieces of wood, which he gathered with a grunt of effort.
They were not as heavy as he had expected.
He used them to barricade the door, trusting it would keep the beasts from entering.
Most of those Feral-ranked creatures hunted by either sound or smell, while some, such as the Spineback Boar, relied entirely on sight.
Remaining completely still would almost always ensure their absence.
He released a heavy sigh and muttered with a scowl, "That should keep those bastards away. Now I only need to find somewhere to settle here and starve to death before I even get the chance to grow stronger…"
Of course, he really might end up starving to death in here, since back at the mall he had never had the chance to hoard food.
He had received a manual and suddenly found an Hourglass of Death hanging over his head.
By contrast, the raiders had already looted more than half of the expired canned food.
Nothing had only recently expired, in any case.
Ordinarily, the consumption of goods that had been expired for years would have led to sickness.
However, generations of scarcity had hardened the human gut, forcing it to tolerate what would once have been considered inedible; in most cases, even years-expired rations passed through without more than a mild protest from the body.
Naturally, there were other groups in different parts of the world who consumed fresh food and water every day.
These were the ones capable of hunting, and some even ate the beasts they killed after extracting their Essence Cores, thus providing themselves with fresh meat.
...No one was truly lazy in this world. It was kill or be killed. There was no such thing as rich or poor, only the weak and the strong. That was where the hierarchy lay, and even the strongest were compelled to keep hunting.
The single constant threat against them was corrupted Qi, which inevitably seeped into their bodies, bringing slow deaths, soul corruption, and fractures of the mind.
In truth, no cultivator was exempt from this affliction, not even the mightiest. Greater power only invited deeper corruption.
After completely sealing the entrance, Kyle advanced further into the theatre, a fixed grimace on his face.
His stomach growled, insistent in its demand for food.
"Well, you arsehole, calm the fuck down. We have been walking through the ruins together, and you know perfectly well I did not cheat you out of anything. We are simply too weak to feed, so shut up or go and get stronger in your own way, you motherfucker."
As a matter of fact, Kyle was cursing at himself. The depth of his self-loathing could have been a subject of study.
He did, in fact, have a way to get food.
By selling the eight Essence Cores in his possession, he could secure a bag of provisions and a single bottle of water.
However, it was hardly the ideal moment to wander outside.
For the chaos raging beyond the walls after the boss's death to subside, he might have to remain here for two or even three days, if there was any real chance he would last a single one.
His last meal had been more than a day and several hours ago, and the exertion of battle had long since burned through what energy it provided.
By now, his animosity was beginning to shift towards the manual itself.
His reasoning came from the perspective of a hungry man, as his mind kept repeating the question of why the manual had not also rewarded him with food and water, needs he considered paramount and more important than anything else at this moment.
He shook his head, pulling himself back to his senses.
Obviously, the manual was not a life support system. It did not provide necessities such as that.
If anything, it was more akin to a mechanism that sustained a person only to corrupt the mind later.
It was never truly in favour of humanity.
Once a manual was awakened, it granted the bearer a permanent Hourglass of Death.
Not everyone was genuinely pleased to awaken one.
The only consolation was that it gave them a little more time to live without being devoured by mutated beasts or stumbling into a Trial Zone while still weak, only to be killed in an instant by greater threats...
***
Kyle halted when his foot struck something.
Looking down, he found a dried human skull, partially fractured at the forehead.
He rolled his eyes, nudged it aside, and glanced around as he slid the bag from his shoulder and held it in one hand.
To his left lay a theatre room littered with debris, refuse, skeletons and assorted remnants.
To his right stood a staircase leading to the upper and final floor of the building, where the largest theatre room was located.
'That would obviously be the better place to stay. If I remain here and the barricades are broken, I will be consumed before I can escape… but staying on the top floor… well, that says it all.' He reasoned with himself while moving slowly towards the damaged stairs, a few of whose stones were missing.
Only the gods knew what battles had taken place here to leave so many human remains and such damage to the structure.
It could not have been a bomb; more likely it was something far larger… perhaps the boss.
Yet that seemed impossible, for the boss of any zone almost never left its chambers.
He reached the top and found the theatre room to his right along the wide hallway, then stepped inside.
With his heightened sight, he took in the vast expanse of the room, noting that it was slightly more damaged than the rest of the building.
Still, it was manageable.
Rows of connected chairs filled the space, descending from high to low, and he stood at the highest point of the room.
As he moved further in, his nose caught the scent of fresh blood.
The difference between human blood and that of beasts was unmistakable.
The sharp metallic tang of human blood was familiar, easily distinguished from the sour and thick stench of beast blood, which carried the odour of fur burnt over rotten meat.
Kyle's eyes widened in alarm, and he quickly raised his guard, realising that someone was present and wounded.
Without warning, the barrel of a gun pressed against the back of his head.
A feminine, hoarse voice, carrying a trace of coldness and introspection, spoke.
"Who are you… no, wrong question. Better to ask, what the fuck are you doing here, arsehole?"
Kyle exhaled with visible frustration and lifted both hands, although he gripped the iron picker even more tightly.
'...Now how do I explain this shit?'