[These are only your initial skills. As you progress in this world, more will unlock]
Sid's eyes went wide, lighting up the way a kid does when booting up a brand-new game. He spun in a little circle, chuckling.
"So this is it? Like… like when you first make a character and you're staring at your trash starter kit, dreaming about what comes next. Man, this is wild."
He swiped through the menu again, then snapped it closed just to open it again, testing it over and over, almost giddy.
Then, slowly, the excitement settled. His eyes fell back on his 3D model floating in the Status window. For the first time, he really looked not at the numbers, but at himself. His fingers brushed over his arms, his chest, the fabric of his torn shirt, like he was checking if the projection matched the flesh.
"This is me… really me. My actual body, dropped into this world. Not some avatar. The same body of a kid who only gamed, who barely stepped outside after that knee accident. I should've been weak, useless even, but I'm not. Guess I should thank myself for sticking with those home workouts, and maybe genetics for doing me a favor. This body… it's light, easy to move. Feels like I can actually fight."
Sid rolled his shoulders, trying to shake the tightness from the crash and the heaviness on what he had just watched. His ribs still burned, but he forced himself to move.
He stretched his arms wide, loosening his muscles. Then he dropped into a squat. His body responded smoothly until the weight shifted to his right leg.
"Damn it!"
A sharp sting shot through his knee, making him hiss. He held the position, breathing slow, but the pain stayed, dull and nagging a reminder of the accident that had ended his parkour career.
That knee had haunted him for years, the reason he never returned to the rooftops he once loved.
Until Anna, during her ridiculous "seven days of sending nudes" stunt, mocked him. Saying he ignored her because he only had a thing for zombies.
The insult dug in deep, pushing him back into parkour, forcing his body to chase rooftops again just to prove her wrong and reach her.
To test himself further, he threw a quick punch through the air, followed by a light kick. His body felt fast, sharp, more responsive than he remembered. But again, his right knee complained, the jolt buzzing down his leg like a warning.
"If this thing gives out here, I'm screwed. What good is a survivor with a busted joint?"
Before the thought could spiral, the calm voice cut in again, overriding his worry.
[The tutorial will now begin. You will be guided step by step through the basics of survival. From combat, scavenging, to endurance. Follow the objectives to adapt and grow stronger.]
[FIRST TUTORIAL MISSION: eliminate the hostile undead below.]
"What already? You're throwing me into combat now?"
[Failure to comply will result in penalty.]
"Penalty? That's new. In the game there was nothing like that. You could stall forever, log out, come back whenever. Nobody was forcing you to play by the script."
He exhaled sharply, scanning the glowing text again.
"But I guess this isn't the game anymore, huh? If doing this helps me figure out why I got given a second chance and transported here in this dead world, then fine. I'll play along… for now."
The rooftop edge glowed faintly, a soft outline guiding his gaze downward. Sid stepped closer, peering over the side. In the alley below shuffled a lone zombie, its arms dangling, head bobbing with each unsteady step.
Its clothes were filthy, tattered, and stained, but what caught his eye was the gear strapped haphazardly to its body. A small bag, a knife dangling from its belt.
[That zombie carries the basic gear you'll need. Defeat it, and scavenge what it holds.]
"So that's my starter pack, huh? Classic. Guess some things never change."
It moved slow, basic, almost laughably weak. The kind of low-level mob you farmed for scraps in Dead World Online. Sid grinned, a rush of excitement bubbling up.
"Oh man… you're kidding me. This is it. My first zombie. A real one. Do you even know how many times I dreamed about this? Every gamer says it, right? Drop us in an apocalypse and we'd crush it. Well, I wasn't just any gamer. I was legend rank. Number two in the world. You're about to get schooled, tutorial trash."
His heart raced, not with fear but with anticipation. The smell of rot carried faintly upward, the kind of detail no game could capture, but it only made him more focused.
He studied the zombie's movement, noting the slow drag of its feet, the lazy sway of its arms. Weak balance, predictable stride. He knew these patterns by heart.
"Head. Always the head. Don't waste time anywhere else."
Sid climbed down the fire escape, every step rattling the rusted frame. The zombie below raised its head at the sound, a wet groan spilling from its throat. Up close, the stench hit him first. Thick, sour, and rancid.
It was the kind of rot that clawed at his nose and coated his tongue, worse than any trash pile he'd ever let fester in his room for months. His stomach lurched, but he forced it down, muttering to himself.
"God… no one ever mentioned the smell. In game it was just some sound effects. This—this is next level."
The thing staggered toward him, each movement dragging flesh against bone in a way that looked wrong, too real.
Sid squared his stance, heart racing but steady, eyes locked on its head. The zombie reached, and he moved on instinct. Sidestep, shove, unbalance. The body felt warm and damp against his palm, not stiff like he'd imagined. It sent a shiver through him.
"Jesus… it actually feels alive."
The zombie stumbled against the wall. Sid's eyes darted to its belt, and he pulled the rusted knife free. The weight grounded him, heavy and real in his grip. He tightened both hands around it and swung with everything he had.