The sun began to bleed over the horizon. Grey light filtered through the smoke of the burning city.
I sat on a park bench near the Chemistry building. My legs were stretched out. I was eating an apple I had found in a vending machine.
In front of me, a massacre was ending.
A pack of Zombie Dogs, Level 6 mobs, had spawned near the fountain. There were twenty of them.
Usually, a pack that size would overrun a solo player. They used swarm tactics. They bit ankles and hamstrings.
But Alpha was a meat grinder.
The Abyssal Warrior swung the Bloodletter. The black iron blade moved faster than a sword that size should. It hummed through the air.
SPLAT.
Three dogs were bisected in a single swing. Black blood sprayed the pavement.
[Experience +150]
[Experience +150]
[Experience +150]
Alpha didn't stop. He stepped forward, crushing a skull under his armored boot, and swung again. The 5% lifesteal effect on the sword flared green every time he connected. Even if the dogs managed to scratch his bone armor, the sword healed the damage instantly.
My other six Stalkers cleaned up the stragglers. They leaped from the trees, pouncing on the dogs that tried to run.
It was efficient. It was industrial.
I finished the apple and tossed the core into a bush.
[System Alert]
[Event Ended: The Midnight Feast]
[Survival Confirmed.]
[Reward: 500 Gold Coins.]
A heavy pouch materialized in my lap. I picked it up. The coins clinked together with a heavy, satisfying sound.
500 Gold.
To put that in perspective, a standard Goblin dropped 5 Bronze. 100 Bronze made 1 Silver. 100 Silver made 1 Gold.
I had just earned the equivalent of killing ten thousand goblins just by sitting on a bench.
"System," I said. "Open Shop."
The Global Shop wasn't open yet, but the "Tutorial Shop" was available for Players who survived the first night event.
A blue holographic menu appeared.
[Tutorial Shop]
Basic Potion (HP): 10 SilverBasic Potion (Mana): 20 Silver, Iron Sword: 50 Silver, Leather Armor: 40 Silver, Skill Book (Random Common): 5 Gold
I scrolled past the trash. I went to the "Utility" tab.
[Dimensional Ring (Rank F)]
Storage Space: 1 cubic meter.Price: 100 Gold.
Most players would buy weapons. Idiots. Weapons dropped from mobs. Space was the real bottleneck. You couldn't get rich if you couldn't carry the loot.
"Buy two," I commanded.
[Purchase Complete. -200 Gold.]
Two simple silver bands appeared in my hand. I slid one onto my right ring finger and the other onto my left.
I stood up. "Clean up," I ordered.
My Stalkers ran around the battlefield, gathering the loot drops. They brought me pile of copper coins, wolf pelts, and dog teeth.
I touched the pile.
Zap.
The items vanished into my ring.
I checked my status.
[Name: Kael Vance]
[Level: 15]
[Class: Abyssal Sovereign]
[Mana: 350/350]
Level 15. In my last life, it took me three weeks to hit Level 15. I had done it in twelve hours.
"Alpha," I said. "We're going back."
The seven-foot skeleton shouldered his massive sword. The red runes on the blade pulsed. He looked like a nightmare drawn by a heavy metal artist.
We walked back toward the Student Union.
The barricade at the cafeteria had been improved.
It wasn't just vending machines anymore. Someone had piled up desks, chairs, and metal sheeting. There were guards now. Actual guards.
Four students stood behind the wall. They held makeshift spears—broom handles with kitchen knives duct-taped to the end. They wore football pads.
They looked nervous.
When I emerged from the morning mist, flanking by my death squad, they didn't scream. They froze.
"Open the gate," I said.
One of the guards, a skinny kid with glasses, scrambled down from the pile. He pulled a desk aside to create a gap.
"Mr. Vance," he stammered. "We... we were told not to let anyone in without processing."
I stopped. "Processing?"
"New rules," the kid said. He wouldn't look at Alpha. He kept his eyes on his shoes. "The Council set up a toll. 50% of all scavenged loot goes to the community stockpile."
I laughed.
Communism. It always happened in the first week. Then the food ran out, and it turned into a dictatorship.
"Who is the Council?" I asked.
"Blake," the kid said. "Blake Thompson."
I knew the name. Blake Thompson. His father owned half the real estate in the city. Blake drove a Porsche to class. In the future, he became a mid-tier Guild Leader known as "The Golden Prince." He was a Paladin.
Of course it was a Paladin. Paladins and Necromancers were natural enemies. They were self-righteous, flashy, and annoying.
"Move," I said.
I walked through the gap.
The cafeteria was transformed. The tables were pushed to the walls to create sleeping areas. Hundreds of students were huddled there, wrapped in curtains or coats. Some were crying. Some were sleeping.
In the center of the room, near the kitchen, a "Command Center" had been set up.
Sitting on a throne made of stacked chairs was Blake.
He looked the part. He was wearing clean clothes. His blonde hair was perfect. He held a glowing white mace in his hand.
[Blake Thompson]
[Level: 8]
[Class: Lightbearer (Rare)]
Level 8. Impressive for a normal person. He must have killed a lot of zombies last night.
Standing around him were ten other students. The new elite. They looked well-fed. They had the best weapons.
Brad was there too. He was standing near Blake, looking bruised and sullen. When he saw me, he flinched.
I walked straight toward the throne. The room went silent. Everyone stared at the skeletons.
Blake stood up. He smiled. It was a politician's smile.
"You must be Kael," Blake said. His voice projected well. "Brad told me about you. The Necromancer."
He said the word like it was a disease.
"I see you survived the night," Blake continued. "Good. We need strong fighters. But you brought dangerous monsters into the Safe Zone. That's a violation of safety protocols."
I stopped ten feet away. Alpha stood beside me, towering over everyone.
"Safety protocols?" I asked. "Did you write those on a napkin?"
Blake's smile tightened. "We are building a society here, Kael. Order is the only thing keeping us alive. Everyone contributes. Everyone follows the rules."
He stepped down from his podium. He walked toward me, spinning his mace.
"Rule Number One," Blake said. "No unauthorized weapons. And those things..." He pointed his mace at Alpha. "Those are definitely unauthorized."
The crowd murmured. They were scared of my skeletons. Blake was playing to the audience. He wanted to look like the protector.
"Dismiss them," Blake ordered. "And hand over that sword. We have a Paladin in the group who can actually use it properly."
I looked at him.
I activated [Glitch Analysis].
[Target: Blake Thompson]
[Skill: Aura of Command (Buffs allies)]
[Skill: Smite (Light Damage)]
[Weakness: Left knee (Injury from skiing accident)]
[Inventory: 3 Gold Coins, Car Keys, Pack of Condoms]
He was broke. He was weak. And he was arrogant.
"No," I said.
Blake stopped. "Excuse me?"
"I said no. I'm not joining your club. I'm not paying your tax. And I'm definitely not giving you my sword."
Blake's face turned red. "You think because you have a few bony pets you can do whatever you want? I have fifty people here ready to fight."
He gestured to the room. The guards raised their spears.
"Fifty people," I repeated. "And how many of them are Level 5?"
Silence.
"I'm Level 15," I said.
Gasps rippled through the room.
"Liar," Blake spat. "Nobody is Level 15. The highest on the Global Forum is Level 9."
"Check the Leaderboard," I said.
"The Leaderboard isn't active yet," Blake sneered. "It opens at..."
[SYSTEM ALERT]
A massive chime rang through the room. It rang through the entire world.
A golden screen appeared in the air, floating above everyone's heads.
[Tutorial Phase 1 Complete.]
[Global Leaderboard Unlocked.]
[Displaying Top 10 Players (Local Region: North America)]
Everyone looked up.
The names scrolled down in gold text.
1. Abyssal Sovereign (Level 15) - [Hidden]
2. SwordSaint (Level 9) - New York
3. TheTank (Level 8) - Texas
4. GoldenPrince (Level 8) - University Safe Zone
...
Blake stared at the screen. He saw his name at Number 4.
Then he looked at Number 1.
Abyssal Sovereign.
He looked at me. He looked at the black fire burning in Alpha's eyes.
"You..." Blake whispered.
"Me," I said.
I stepped forward. Blake took a step back. The "Safety" he preached evaporated instantly in the face of raw power.
"I'm going to the kitchen," I said, my voice cutting through the silence. "I'm going to take whatever food I want. Then I'm going to the roof to sleep."
I looked at his guards.
"If anyone tries to stop me, they lose a limb. If anyone touches my stuff, they lose a hand."
I turned to Blake.
"And Blake?"
He flinched. "What?"
"Nice mace," I said. "Keep it polished for me. I might need the scrap metal later."
I walked past him.
Alpha followed, deliberately dragging the tip of the Greatsword on the linoleum floor. The screeching sound was like nails on a chalkboard.
Nobody moved. The crowd parted like the Red Sea.
I walked into the kitchen and grabbed a box of industrial-sized trash bags. I started filling them with canned peaches, tuna, and jerky.
I wasn't stealing. I was collecting rent.
As I loaded the third bag into my Dimensional Ring, a new notification popped up in the corner of my vision. It wasn't gold. It was purple.
[Private Message Received.]
I paused. Private messages were disabled until Level 20. Unless...
Unless the sender had a Mythic Grade item or a special Administrator privilege.
I opened the message.
Sender: [Unknown]
Subject: The Glitch
Message:
"I see you, Anomaly. You aren't supposed to be here. The System is trying to delete you. Meet me at the subway station at midnight. Come alone, or the deletion protocol begins."
I stared at the text.
A threat.
Someone else knew. Someone else had seen the code behind the world.
I smiled.
Finally. A challenge.
I closed the bag of tuna.
"Alpha," I said. "Eat up. We have a date tonight."