The relentless assault of the Black Ghost swept through the freshly gathered zombie horde like a scythe. Within minutes, the area around the kiosk was carpeted with decaying corpses piled haphazardly. The air hung thick with a putrid, eye-watering stench.
This slaughter had wiped out nearly two-thirds of the square's undead population. No significant clusters remained visible—only stragglers shambling at the periphery. With less than a minute left on its timer, Luo Jie dissolved the Black Ghost back into IBM particles, reabsorbing them. Out of habit, he checked his gains.
Even expecting a windfall, the figure on the leaderboard stunned him: —2130.
Most first-tier players wouldn't rack up that much pure kill credit in an entire scenario run, let alone a rookie. And he'd done it in five minutes. Holy hell… Seeing the number hammered home the terrifying advantage his EX-Grade [Pariah] bloodline granted him right out of the gate. Pity the Ghost was such a battery hog—five minutes of glory for hours of recharge. Strictly an emergency trump card, not a daily driver.
Luo Jie chuckled darkly at himself. Got an EX bloodline most players would kill for, and still whining about not having an 'I Win' button? Greed really is baked into the human OS. "Time to level up."
He summoned the sleek, semi-transparent system interface. A pulsing red exclamation point flared beneath his name tier. Simultaneously, stark crimson warnings filled his vision:
[TIER ADVANCEMENT CONDITIONS MET] [PROCEED TO FIRST TIER? Y/N]
[WARNING: Advancement requires 100 Credits.] [WARNING: Physical/Mental attributes will be raised to 100 baseline.] [WARNING: Personal Storage Dimension unlocked upon upgrade.]
[TIER MAINTENANCE NOTICE:] [Post-advancement, 1 Commemorative Badge required per 60 Earth days.] [Note: Badges are non-tradable, scenario completion rewards.]
[SEVERE PENALTY WARNING:] [Failure to pay maintenance fee results in:] [1. Automatic demotion to Tier Zero.] [2. Permanent 50% reduction to ALL BASE ATTRIBUTES.] [3. Total Credit/Item confiscation.] [4. Permanent Player Status Revocation.]
That demotion penalty was brutal. Losing gear and credits hurt, but a permanent 50% stat cut? For most, baseline stats capped around 100. Halving that meant crippling weakness. Forever. He remembered the shock, the furious cursing about "predatory contracts" from survivors seeing this warning for the first time back in his past life.
Fair's fair, Luo Jie thought. You play the game, you follow the house rules. Want the power? Accept the risk. "Advance."
His credit counter dropped by 100. His tier status flickered, updating to [FIRST TIER]. His Physical stat surged to 100. His Mental stat, amplified by [Pariah], rocketed to 200. A lattice of blue-white energy grids flared across his skin. Raw power, sudden and immense, flooded his muscles and bones. He jumped, threw a few experimental punches, then closed his eyes, savoring the long-forgotten sensation of enhanced strength. A soft sigh escaped him. "Still feels weak…" Accustomed to four-digit stats in his past life, even peak human physique felt disappointingly frail.
Task done, Luo Jie didn't leave immediately. He rummaged through the kiosk's tourist trinkets. "Aha! Knew it'd be here." He held up a folded, letter-sized printed sheet.
[ITEM ACQUIRED: Fortune City Visitor Map] [Authenticate for 50 Credits? Y/N]
The scenarios were like games, but not. Most were open worlds—no forced questlines, no scripted NPCs spouting exposition. Yet hidden tasks and treasures lurked everywhere, rewards for the observant. In his past life, a whole player archetype—the "Pathfinders"—dedicated themselves to unearthing these secrets, publishing guides in journals like The Scenario Codex. Free guides covered lower-tier scenarios; high-tier intel cost serious credits. By the time he died, guides for up to Tier Five were public. A Tier One scenario like "Zombie Siege"? Mined dry decades ago. His meticulous notes ensured he remembered the good finds.
Like this map. Unauthenticated, it was just paper. Authenticated, it became so much more. "Authenticate."
Blue-white grids washed over the map. It vanished from his hands. Instantly, a semi-transparent minimap appeared in the upper-right corner of his vision, a green arrow marking his position. "Display 3D mode."
A holographic projection of Fortune City materialized before him. Miniature buildings, streets, and even interior details rendered with startling clarity—a vast improvement over the flat schematic. Only the immediate plaza area showed real-time updates; the rest displayed the park's pre-outbreak state, useful for reference only. He rotated and zoomed the projection. Familiar landmarks triggered a flood of memories, sharpening the mental blueprint of the city.
"Zombie Siege" was famously newbie-friendly, arguably the easies
t Tier One. Low risk meant low rewards—few truly rare items to chase. Its main value lay in easy gear acquisition; the central commercial district was practically littered with basic weapons. In his past life, it was a major source of market fodder. He glanced at the leaderboard. "Credit growth stopped… Jia Shuai's group must've reached the safehouse by now." He recalled the chubby otaku in that group. That kid's half-remembered game knowledge likely guided them to the scenario's single safe zone. Stocked with minimal food and water, they'd hunker down until supplies ran low.
Showtime. But first, a little parting gift for Jia Shuai and Sunglasses. Luo Jie grabbed a Fortune City branded lighter off the counter. He lit the crisp edges of a stack of fresh maps, tossing the burning bundles out the kiosk window one by one. In the flickering orange light, a cold, enigmatic smile touched his lips. "Would love to see their faces when they get this present..."
Elsewhere in Fortune City:
Jia Shuai and Sunglasses, in separate rooms, both pinged by a system notification:
[NEW MAIL: Fortune City Map - Get Your Bearings!]
"A map?" Hope surged in both men. In this blind hellscape, a map was pure gold. They clicked to open it. A fresh system prompt popped up, triggering identical outbursts:
"Who the hell is this 'Nightmare'?! Five hundred credits for a goddamn map?! Highway robbery!" Sunglasses snarled, glaring at the price tag. Jia Shuai echoed the sentiment with considerably less composure, his voice cracking with outrage. The trap was sprung.