Chapter 3: First Scenario Cleared
Of course, I wouldn’t let my guard down the second time. The moment I realized I was weaponless, I lashed out with a desperate kick, catching the nearest zombie squarely in the chest. It stumbled back, buying me precious seconds to retreat. My eyes darted around, scanning for survivors who could still fight.
The grim truth hit me hard. Only six of us remained alive, huddled together in the middle of the bridge, our backs to one another as the swarm encroached from both directions. The overpass, which had been a tactical advantage, now felt like a death trap.
I clenched my fists so tightly that my nails bit into my palms, and the sharp sting became a cruel reminder of my helplessness. I knew this game, this scenario, as well as I knew the back of my hand. But no matter how familiar I was, there was nothing I could have done to save them all.
This game was a survival of the fittest, but it was also because I was simply too weak!
A bitter thought clawed at the edges of my mind: Is this it? Are we all going to die here, failing the very first scenario?
“No,” I whispered, shaking my head to cast out the despair that had been trying to take hold. “No, not yet.”
I didn’t know why, but my pride wouldn’t let me fall here, especially not like this.
Since being transported into this hellish game and regaining these jumbled memories minutes ago, something deep inside me—some instinct buried beneath the confusion—refused to accept death. Refused to kneel.
Maybe I was once a king. Maybe not. But whether it was real or just fantasy, the fire it lit inside me was real. I would rise… or die trying. There was no middle ground!
“Hold steady, lad!” Boris’s deep voice boomed over the chaos, carrying a commanding assurance that cut through the panic like a beacon. Blood dripped from a gash on his shoulder, but his stance was unshaken, his broad frame radiating resilience. He stood like an immovable wall, anchoring us in the storm of battle, whether he realized it or not. Despite his unarmed approach and the challenges he faced while protecting the others, his presence inspired confidence. That was why I never felt vulnerable with him watching my back.
“Mhm!” I grunted, my voice steadier than I felt. “We hold out until the countdown ends. That’s our only shot!”
“Are you telling me to fight?” came a sharp, accusatory voice of a woman, though I recognized whose it was.
Among the six of us, two were too scared to fight and had survived this far by letting others shield them. These were none other than the old man and the woman who had threatened to call the police. The old man I could understand, but the woman had even pushed someone to his doom during our frantic escape to this bridge.
Although she looked like she regretted doing it by looking at her pale face and trembling hands, I couldn’t help but feel a surge of anger but had to force it down. There was no time to confront her about her murder at the moment. After all, it was going to become more common from here on out.
So, I didn’t respond. Instead, my eyes searched the surroundings, desperate for anything that could serve as a makeshift weapon. Then, something caught my eye—a loose rebar jutting out from the bridge’s railing.
“Boris,” I called, “can you buy me ten—no, five seconds?”
The bald man smirked through gritted teeth, cracking his knuckles. “Five seconds? For you, lad, I’ll give you ten!”
Without another word, Boris charged forward, slamming into the nearest zombie like a wrecking ball. The creature staggered back, only to be pinned against the railing as Boris crushed it with raw, unrelenting force.
I didn’t waste a second. Sprinting toward the rebar, I ducked under a zombie’s swipe, narrowly sidestepping another’s grasp. My hands latched onto the cold, corroded metal, and with a grunt, I heaved it free.
Rusty Steel Rebar
Grade: Common
Type: Dagger/Short sword
A crude, rusty rebar taken from an overpass bride’s railing that has long been abandoned to decay.
- Durability: 6/6
“Got it!” I shouted, spinning around just in time to meet a zombie lunging at me. I thrust the rebar upward, the rusty tip piercing through its chin and bursting out the top of its skull with a sickening crunch.
You have hunted [Octoferal Zombie Lv.2].
You have gained 20 EXP.
“Not bad!” Boris said, slamming a zombie with a devastating punch that sent it crumpling to the ground.
“We just need to survive a few more minutes!” I yelled, turning back to the group. At this point, I didn’t bother telling them what to do. Those who were still alive had already realized the truth: fight with everything they had or die.
With grim determination, I lunged back into the fray, the jagged end of the rebar plunging into the chest of another zombie. I kicked the creature off the weapon, sending it sprawling to the ground, and immediately drove the rebar into its skull. Again and again, I struck, and the twisted metal tore through flesh and bone. Blood spattered my face and clothes, and I could only imagine how I must have looked—crazed, desperate, like a man who had been possessed by a demon.
But I didn’t care.
Survival demanded everything I had to give.
You have hunted [Octoferal Zombie Lv.2].
You have gained 20 EXP.
Nevertheless, in the last three minutes remaining, my exhaustion finally kicked in at full force. Lifting a rebar that was supposedly light now felt like a thirty-kilogram dumbbell. Every swing became more sluggish, each stab requiring a lot of effort. My muscles burned, my vision was fading in and out, and my breath came in ragged gasps.
Then, through my fatigue and distraction, it happened. A zombie lunged at me from the side, its rancid teeth sinking deep into my shoulder. The immediate pain shot through my body like a searing bolt, and a scream tore from my throat. But there was no time to indulge in agony. I could feel the hot, wet blood oozing down my arm, but I refused to stop. I kept stabbing, stabbing, and stabbing—each strike driven by nothing but the primal urge to survive.
You have hunted [Octoferal Zombie Lv.2].
You have gained 20 EXP.
You have hunted [Octoferal Lv.1].
You have gained 10 EXP.
You have hunted [Octoferal Zombie Lv.2].
You have gained 20 EXP.
The zombies and the octopuses were relentless, pushing in from every side. The overpass had become a bloody battlefield. I could see that the surviving people were in bad condition. Even Boris was showing signs of wear. His movements were much slower now, as though an exhausted bull at the end of a bullfight, but he kept fighting, gritting his teeth through the pain.
For a moment, everything seemed to blur together—the howls of the zombies, the sickening crunch of my rebar as it buried itself in skulls, the acrid stench of death filling my nostrils.
Just a little longer. I just need to last a little bit longer…
But the countdown ticked down like a ticking bomb in my ears. My body screamed at me to stop, to give in, to collapse, but there was no choice.
I wasn’t going to die here. Not today—
“AAARGHH!!”
A blinding pain shot through me as a zombie lunged at me and had its rotten teeth sink deep into my right hand that was stabbing another zombie with the rebar. I felt the sickening crunch of bones as it tore through flesh. Blood gushed from the mangled stump where my hand had been.
The screams of the others pierced through the chaos, and their eyes were wide with horror, but I paid them no heed. My focus was instead on the zombie as I kicked it away with all my strength, sending it tumbling back into the horde.
Normally, the unbearable pain and the stark realization of losing a hand would have driven me insane, but I knew what others did not.
You have acquired a skill: [Desperate Willpower Lv.1].
You have acquired a skill: [Pain Tolerance Lv.1].
The pain instantly dulled as a surge of clarity and resolve washed over me. It was as if the world had slowed, and the chaos around me faded into the background. My remaining hand gripped the bloodied rebar that had fallen to the ground with newfound strength, and I prepared to face the unrelenting tide once more.
Then.
Time Remaining: 0 seconds
The time limit has been reached.
Congratulations.
You have cleared Scenario #1 [Survive the Horde].
You have fulfilled the second extra condition of the scenario — Kill 25 Octoferals or Octoferal Zombies. (31/25)
Basic Rewards: 500 Soul Coins & Aleph-Tier General Lootbox
Additional Rewards: Uncommon-Grade Armament Voucher
You have been chosen as a divine warrior of the Goddess of Imagination, Istellia, for the game “Divine Will.”
Your [Status Screen] has been unlocked.
You have leveled up.
You have leveled up.
You have leveled up.
…
You have earned a new title: The Unyielding Survivor
You can now access [Inventory].
You will now be transported to the divine kingdom of the Goddess of Imagination.
As rows of notification screens popped up before me, I, along with the five other surviving people, were enveloped in a blinding light. When I was finally able to open my eyes, I realized that we had been transported to a foreign place—a vast, bluish-white circular hall with marble-like floors and towering columns that encircled the space. Behind us stood an enormous double door, so tall that it must be at least four meters in height.
What struck me most, however, wasn’t the grandeur of the hall but my own body. All the wounds and bruises I had sustained were gone. Even the hand I’d lost to that hellish horde was back as if nothing had ever happened!
Despite this miracle, I collapsed to the ground like a twig blown by the wind. I clenched and unclenched my fist before my face, despite knowing that this would happen after successfully clearing the scenario. On the contrary, from the edge of my eyes, I could see the others murmuring in disbelief as they checked their own bodies.
“Yo, lad! You seem fine even after losing your hand, though now it’s all healed up,” Boris remarked as he towered over me, his grin as broad as his shoulders. He gave me a hand, which I took, and pulled me back to my feet.
“Mm, your injuries are healed up too,” I replied, glancing at his now-unblemished chest where a deep gash had been earlier. “I’m Maximillian Anderson,” I added, extending my hand out of habit. “Twenty-two. Just… trying to survive like the rest of us.”
Before I could respond, a soft but confident voice interrupted. “Hi.” I turned to see a young, slender, and gentle-looking, blonde-haired woman approaching us. Although her body was slightly trembling from what we had just faced, her emerald-green eyes were alight with determination. “I’m Michelle. I’m the daughter of a lumberjack who lived in a remote forest.”
I recognized her as one of the more courageous fighters from the scenario. While others had hesitated, she’d stood her ground while bashing zombies with a makeshift weapon she found on the ground. But obviously, she appeared to be someone who wasn’t from Earth. Regardless, she could become valuable as a teammate, just like Boris.
“Good to meet you, Michelle,” I said.
“Indeed,” Boris concurred. “And I am Boris Ivanovich Volkov.”
As we were about to continue conversing, a presence made itself known.