I looked around, blood dripping from my hair in slow, sticky trails. I wiped my forehead with a gore-slicked hand, smearing a mix of sweat and blood just to keep it out of my eyes. The heavy iron scent hung in the air—thick, almost choking—so strong it felt baked into the brick and stone around me. It wasn’t a castle, not exactly, but the towering pilrs and endless ft floor gave off that same cold, ancient weight. Decapitated heads and bisected minotaurs y in brutal piles, steam still curling from their corpses. I tightened my grip on the axe, staring at its blood-caked edge, my breathing slow and steady.

  “System,” Crow said, voice low and edged with command, “can I save this axe?”

  > Ding!

  Requires: 50kg of Atom. 1000 Energy units to replicate.

  “Save it, then," Crow said without hesitation.

  He turned his attention back to the st opponent. Its limbs were severed, twitching violently as if some unseen force had knotted its muscles tight. Steam billowed from its body. Blood streamed from its eyes and nose. The unmistakable signs of [Death Rage] were in full force—its movements frantic, driven by a final surge of desperation.

  As long as it thinks it can't fight back, the ability should trigger... but there’s no guarantee, Mark in thought space, making his own judgment. There might be some kind of anger threshold... or maybe a condition I haven’t uncovered yet.

  “System,” Crow said, pcing a hand on another corpse, “if I decompose this and adjust the ability—change the effect from death to paralysis for one day, and reduce the duration to one minute for bance—can it work?”

  > Ding!

  Required: 50,000,000 Energy.

  “Even nerfed, it still costs fifty million?” Crow muttered, frustration edging his voice. “I can cheat with the system... but it still makes me work for it.”

  > Ding!

  1000 Energy

  70,000 kg Atom

  Gained [Death Rage] (Special)

  +10 Ability Points

  He gnced at the corpse. “This thing must weigh around seven hundred kilos... so the Atom cost lines up. Freaking massive.”

  > Ding!

  Level up. +5 Phys (Css Bonus), +5 Free Attributes.

  “I got two levels from just one dungeon run,” I said, regaining control of my body from Crow.

  The creature’s suffering came to an end... though I’m not sure it was even a creature in the true sense. It followed rules—system rules. And when I think about myself, the only difference is... I don’t see the chains that bind me. But they’re there. I just can’t recognize them.

  A moment ter, I’m outside again, scanning the area. The wind brushes against my skin. A low golden light spills through the trees, casting long shadows across the ground—but there’s no sound of life. No birds. No insects. Just silence.

  “It feels really wrong,” I said aloud, eyes on my body. “I can’t go back like this.”

  I muttered the st part, staring down at myself—soaked and dripping in blood.

  ---

  I found an apartment building. From the outside, it looked like people were still living there. I walked in and picked a room with the least noise, cracked the door open to make sure no one was around, then headed straight for the bathroom. After a quick shower, I stepped out and caught a glimpse of myself in the full-body mirror.

  Slender. The kind of frame that could disappear in a crowd without trying. Bck hair, a couple of inches long, brushed to the side but messy near the ends. A pin bck T-shirt hung loosely on him—like it belonged to someone broader. Didn’t fit right, but he didn’t care. Comfort mattered more than style.

  Dark joggers, soft and loose—easy to move in, even if they left little to the imagination at some angles. Not a fashion statement, just functional. The scuffed running shoes were borrowed from the room but fit well enough.

  His face was narrow, tapering to a pointed chin. From chin to forehead, about five and a half nose-lengths—not too long, not short. His bck eyes scanned the room even when he wasn’t thinking. Heavy lids gave him a zy, half-lidded stare. Sharp eyebrows framed them—not angry, just precise. His nose was small, bridge ft—definitely Filipino. Lips wider than the nose, always curved like he was about to say something clever. Or sarcastic. Hard to tell.

  Ears stuck out just a bit—enough to notice, but not in a goofy way. Skin was smooth, tan, without marks or scars. A face made to blend in. To watch. To give nothing away.

  Staring at the reflection, I muttered, “System, why didn’t I get a perfect body like in the novels?”

  > Ding!

  There is no such thing as a perfect body.

  “…What?” I frowned, wanting to ask more—but Crow cut in.

  'Just accept it. In some tribes, fat means handsome. Others like long necks, sharp teeth, stretched ears. It’s subjective.'

  “I know that. And you're in my head, so you know I know. I just wanted the system to expin, not get shamed by my own thoughts. Why am I even defending myself in here? That basically means I’m right.”

  I looked at my arm, flexed slightly. “Now that I think about it, I’m getting stronger... but not more muscur,” I muttered—more curious than concerned.

  I gnced at the time—6:45 p.m.

  Realizing how long I’d been arguing with myself, I shook it off and sprinted back to the supermarket. By the time I arrived, it was already 7:10.

  ---

  Inside, people had started ciming corners—staking out space, forming small, loose groups. Some were already sitting in circles, trading supplies or just making conversation.

  I had a decision to make: follow someone, or try leading. Staying alone meant fewer complications—I’d have enough supplies regardless. But solitude carried a different kind of weight. Mentally, it was heavier than anything I’d fought so far.

  What’s the worst that could happen? Killing a teammate? Crow said, not even trying to sound concerned.

  I sighed. “Easy to say now, when there’s no one around. Still... best not to let things get that far.”

  The supermarket buzzed with life. Dozens of voices blended into a low hum. I couldn’t make out what they were saying at first—but when I focused on a conversation, it transted naturally, like it was always meant to make sense. It didn’t take long to spot Nathan’s group.

  Mark gnced toward the chatter. “Is it because the transtor isn’t perfect?” he muttered, more to himself than anyone else.

  ‘You’re right—it’s not perfect. Or maybe you just can’t hear properly in the first pce, and there’s nothing that needs transting,’ Crow snapped, urgency creeping into his tone.

  “Man, this feeling...” I muttered, under my breath. “It’s like any normal day. As long as you don’t interfere, no one really cares if you exist.”

  Samantha noticed me first. She waved, smiling brightly—as if she’d been waiting for me to show up.

  'That smile... looks like a cssmate from a school camping trip, expecting you brought something cool to share,' Crow observed, tone dry and sharp.

  Samantha grinned. “Look who finally came back. What, went sightseeing or something? You don’t even look like you’ve been in danger.”

  'Are we even that close?' Crow muttered. No... this girl wants something.

  I simply smirked and gave a noncommittal, “Mmm.”

  'What the hell? Why can I understand that?

  System, is it because I’m the thought? Even when he just hums, I still get it?'

  'System, don’t answer me. And what do you mean, “shut up”? Don’t start staring at the feet again like always.'

  A quick mental U-turn, trying to remind myself not to get weird.

  I tried to look up—somewhere above, anywhere neutral—but my eyes paused for a second.

  Not ft, not big. Somewhere in-between.

  Crow immediately yanked my focus upward, locking onto his eyes.

  'Freaking hell. We're gonna end up a pervert at this rate. What the hell are you doing?'

  His voice filled with frustrated judgment.

  As I walked closer, I got a clearer look. Her eyes were a mellow brown, steady without being dull. Hair bck and clean, hanging just below the shoulders—kept simple, like someone who didn’t want to draw attention but still cared enough to maintain it. She was taller than me by a few inches, but not in a way that felt looming—just naturally upright.

  Her skin carried a soft warmth, not dark but not light either—somewhere in between, like someone who spent time outdoors but wasn’t chasing a tan. Her features were banced, the kind people might recognize even if they didn’t remember where from—like someone out of an old fantasy movie. Maybe like Addin’s partner, but with lighter skin. Not pale, just... a warm, soft tan.

  She wore dark cargo pants and a sleeveless hoodie, both slightly worn but clean. Nothing fshy, just enough pockets and flexibility to move without restriction. Her shoes were tightly ced running sneakers—light, practical, built for movement more than comfort. Everything about her looked ready—like she could bolt or fight without a second thought.

  Looking at their group, I noticed Zach was missing—nowhere in sight. Only four of them remained: the father and daughter, Ethan and Samantha.

  'That guy looks like a P.E. instructor but pys it like a safety-first office worker. Total contradiction,' Crow muttered, unimpressed.

  The other three were gathered around a rectangur table when Samantha let out a light cough to catch my attention. “Where did you go? We couldn’t find you,” she said, head slightly tilted, wearing a calm, too-practiced smile.

  'What’s with that fake-ass smile? She’s got the vibe of a wife about to go off on her husband for staying out all night,' Crow muttered dryly.

  I cleared my throat. “Cough.”

  'Yeah, I heard that. We totally skipped her question—pretty sure that’s what’s ticking her off,' Crow added, the first line sounding more like a joke than actual concern.

  I tried to smile, but Crow cut in immediately. 'Don’t. You know our face is almost below average—just stick to a poker face. I’ll handle it. You just talk.'

  Inhaling deeply, I spoke calmly. “It’s like… when the notice went out saying a dungeon was about to appear. I tried tracking it down, see if it was nearby—basically, I went dungeon hunting.” I scratched at my temple, not sure why it suddenly itched.

  The group leaned in a little. Looked like they were interested in hearing the rest. But I had questions too.

  “So yeah, that’s the gist of it. But before I continue—why are there so many people here now? I was only gone half a day, and it looks like there’s fifty more out of nowhere,” I asked, casually scratching my head.

  'Damn it, stop scratching like that. What are you, a monkey? Or did you forget to rinse the soap off and now you’re just itchy all over? Sit down, csp your hands or something before they start thinking you're diseased,' Crow muttered with growing irritation.

  I grabbed a nearby chair and sat down in front of the group, csping my hands in front of my mouth.

  'Put your hands down. Our voice isn’t that loud,' Crow muttered, another unsolicited instruction.

  I lowered them slowly, just in time to notice everyone’s eyes shift toward Mr. Nathan.

  “They were camped near the supermarket,” he began, his tone carefully neutral—like someone trying to dodge responsibility. “They saw new groups coming out of here. First, it was just one guy. After asking around and finding out the st group wasn’t here anymore, he brought his family. Then more groups came... and now we’ve got all this.”

  ‘This old man keeps saying “asking around,” but it’s obvious he’s the one who told them,’ Crow muttered, weighing the pros and cons. ‘Still... why would people avoid this pce just because of the st group holding it, only to crowd in now? Reasonable, maybe—but do they think we’re soft? Easy to push around?’

  “So, Mark, did you find a dungeon?” Lena asked, her voice bright, wearing an innocent smile that didn’t quite match the timing.

  ‘Perfect. Daughter covering for the father. This team’s tighter than they look,’ Crow noted dryly.

  “Well,” I said, pausing, giving Lena a gnce. “It’s not like we can change what’s already happened. But yeah... I found a dungeon. I’ll guide you there tomorrow. We can pick a decent team from the new crowd.”

  I let the words hang—just long enough to show I understood what they were doing... and that I wasn’t exactly happy about it.

  “Let’s not get stuck on that,” Samantha chimed in, smoothly shifting gears. “So, Mark, did you run into any new types of zombies? Anything weird?”

  We talked for a while about what I’d seen—and the new zombie types I’d run into. Turns out they’d encountered a tank-type too. Those things were becoming common, which wasn’t exactly comforting. They also mentioned a zombie that seemed to be commanding a zombie dog. Weirdest part? The hunter-type zombies were avoiding them. Like they knew what to fight... and what not to.

  I gnced at their levels—Level 15. Except for Nathan; it looked like he was still stuck at Level 10. The others were two levels higher than me. No clue how they pulled that off, but it didn’t sit right with me. Eventually, they drifted into other topics, chatting like the earlier tension had never happened. I checked the time—almost 9 p.m.

  I waited for the right moment, then spoke up.

  “Okay, let’s meet here at 7 a.m. tomorrow. Ask around and see who wants to join our team.”

  I paused, then added, “Oh—and don’t tell them it’s for a dungeon run. Just find people interested in joining.”

  My voice cut through their chatter. All four of them looked at me like I’d just smmed a metal tray on the table.

  ‘Shit. Pretty sure we just interrupted the hottest part of their conversation,’ Crow muttered in my head.

  I cleared my throat. “Cough! Anyway, I need to eat—it’s already 9 p.m. You guys need to eat too, right?”

  Poker face: intact. From the outside, I probably looked like some young master giving polite yet absolute orders to his servants—composed and firm.

  Samantha giggled, trying to stifle it. “Sorry—we thought you already ate. You came in right after we finished.”

  “Yeah, sorry man,” Ethan added, giving me an apologetic nod. “We figured you were good.”

  The other two nodded in sync, like twins.

  ‘Damn. I felt bad for interrupting, but now I wanna wring their necks for making this more awkward,’ Crow grumbled, irritated. I felt a twitch in my right cheek.

  “It’s nothing,” I said, voice calm but a little tighter as I clenched my fist. “Guess I just thought

  differently, that’s all.”

  I stood up, brushing off the tension. “Let’s just meet here tomorrow morning.” I paused. “Make sure you eat before we gather—so we can move out right at 7.”