On a street painted red with gore, a lone figure stood upon the roof of a three-story house. His black jacket snapped in the wind, his eyes cold and merciless. One hand rested casually on the hilt of the sword at his waist.
With a single step forward, he leapt.
The man descended like a shadow from hell itself, coat flaring wildly. His blade hissed free in midair.
Slash!
The monsters waiting below split apart, blood spraying across the street. The stench of iron filled the air.
The other beasts turned at once, their guttural roars shaking windows as they surged toward him.
The young man smirked, arrogance cutting across his handsome face. He didn't hesitate. Why would he? To him, these monsters were nothing more than stepping stones. Whether it was beasts, humans, or even the so-called gods, anything that dared block his path would be cut down.
For the future he sought, he would stain the world in blood.
His name is Dennis Drake.
Once, he had lived peacefully. But the apocalypse had stripped that away, leaving behind only the blade, his rage, and his ambition to one day fight the gods themselves.
The monsters charged.
Dennis blurred forward, his speed nearly breaking the sound barrier.
«SKILL: RAGING FLAME SWORD!»
His blade erupted in fire. Each furious swing painted the street in crimson and orange. The monsters burned, shrieking as flames devoured them.
He didn't stop until the street fell silent. One hundred corpses smoldered in heaps around him.
Dennis finally exhaled, lowering his sword. Despite the ease with which he'd carved through them, even his stamina had limits. Sitting briefly on the cracked pavement, he caught his breath before summoning his system.
«DING… STATUS WINDOW»
NAME: DENNIS DRAKE
LEVEL: 5
ATTRIBUTE: IMMORTAL FLAME
TITLE: KING OF FLAMES
SAGA: THE FLAME SWORDSMAN
WEAPON: ORDINARY SWORD
HP: 1200 / 1200
MP: 52 / 900
STRENGTH: 56
AGILITY: 98
SENSE: 15
HEALTH: 50
INTELLIGENCE: 35
AVAILABLE POINTS: 5
SKILL: RAGING FLAME SWORD
From Level 3 to 5 in one day. While others still struggled to even awaken, Dennis was already blazing ahead.
He smirked. This is just the beginning.
Without a backward glance, he walked away.
Far across the district, two figures collapsed to the ground, gasping for air.
Collins and James lay drenched in blood, some theirs, most belonging to the monsters they had barely managed to kill. Unlike Dennis, their struggle was desperate. Each beast they fought had forced them to work together just to survive.
Collins pulled open his status.
«DING… STATUS WINDOW»
NAME: ADAM COLLINS
LEVEL: 1
ATTRIBUTE: ???
TITLE: ???
SAGA: ——
WEAPON: ORDINARY KNIFE
HP: 16 / 200
MP: 0 / 50
STRENGTH: 10
AGILITY: 12
SENSE: 1
HEALTH: 15
INTELLIGENCE: 1
AVAILABLE POINTS: 3
SKILL: ——
The numbers barely improved. His growth was pitiful compared to the monsters that surrounded them.
Still, it was better than nothing.
"Hey, Collins!" James called, excitement breaking through his exhaustion. "I awakened my attribute, come check it out!"
Collins dragged himself closer. "Alright, let's see…" He squinted at the air in front of James. Nothing appeared. "I can't see anything."
"What? It's right here! You seriously can't see it?" James blinked, baffled.
"Maybe… we can't view other people's statuses," Collins muttered.
James slumped. "Man, I really wanted to show off…"
"Then just tell me."
James perked up instantly. "Alright, but brace yourself. My attribute's name sounds weird, but the meaning, oh, the meaning is glorious."
Collins gave him a flat stare. "Please, James. I'm exhausted. Just spit it out."
James puffed out his chest. "Fine! My attribute is… The Gifted Hoodlum!"
Collins: (●__●)
"…What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
"Don't focus on the name!" James snapped, sulking. "It represents the strength of my body and brain. With it, I'll fight smarter, harder, and support others like a true boss." He folded his arms and struck a sage-like pose. "Admit it, I'm remarkable, right?"
Collins shook his head with a faint smile. Despite everything, James was still James. His ridiculous bragging almost made Collins forget where they were. Almost.
But then, his thoughts drifted. 'Mom… Dad… are you even alive right now?'
His chest tightened. He turned to James. "Hey… have you tried calling your parents?"
The playful smirk vanished from James' face. His hands trembled as he pulled out his phone. The screen lit up. He dialed.
It rang.
And then, someone picked up.
"Hello?"
"Dad! Thank god, you're alive! How are you…"
"…Sorry. I'm not your dad."
James froze. "…What?"
"I found this phone among some dead bodies." The stranger's voice was grim. "I'm sorry."
The line cut.
James stood there, silent, as if lightning had struck his mind. Slowly, the truth sank in. His parents, the ones who had raised him, loved him, given him everything, were gone.
Something shattered inside him.
Hatred seeped in, black and bitter.
Collins, who overheard everything, felt his heart sink as well. James' parents had been good people, to him and to everyone. And now, like so many others, they were victims of the gods' cruel games.
James' lips trembled. His voice was hollow. "Collins… what do I do now? My parents are gone. I… I have nothing."
Collins clenched his fists. His grief turned to fire. He forced his voice to steady. "Then we grow stronger. Stronger than any monster. Stronger than any god. We'll make them pay, not once, not ten times, but tens of thousands of times."
For the first time since the call, James' eyes lit with a faint spark. Vengeance. Purpose.
But before either of them could say more, Collins groaned. Pain exploded in his skull.
"Aaah!"
He clutched his head, screaming as though something inside was tearing him apart. His body trembled violently.
"Collins!" James dropped beside him, panic etched across his face. He tried to help, but there was nothing he could do.
The only thing James could do was stand guard, knife in hand, praying no monsters appeared while his best friend writhed in agony.