The city looked normal.
Cars passed.Lights glowed.People laughed.
Alive.
Arien stood on a rooftop, watching.
"In six days…" he murmured,"…this becomes a graveyard."
The thought didn't disturb him.
It focused him.
A blue window appeared.
ACTIVE SKILLStealth — Level 1Duration: 10 minutesCooldown: 1 hour
"Ten minutes," he said quietly.
"Enough."
Below him—
The largest logistics warehouse in the city.
Massive.
Bright floodlights.Rotating cameras.Organized loading bays.
Clean. Efficient.
Important.
Soon—
Useless.
Arien exhaled slowly.
He knew what was coming.
Zombies weren't weak.
Stronger than humans.
Faster than panic could handle.
And when people realized the truth—
They would gather.
Groups. Bases. Survivors.
But large groups attracted death.
Mutations.
Waves.
Destruction.
"This isn't a game," he muttered.
But the rules—
They were familiar.
"Activate Stealth."
CONFIRMED
The world dulled.
Sound faded.
Presence… erased.
Arien moved.
Across rooftops.Down fire escapes.Into shadow.
A guard stood nearby.
Smoking.
Unaware.
Arien walked past him.
The man paused.
"…Weird."
But saw nothing.
Inside the warehouse—
Rows.
Endless rows.
Supplies stretching into the distance.
"…Jackpot."
He opened his inventory.
CREATOR INVENTORYTime Stasis: Enabled
No hesitation.
"Food."
Canned goods vanished instantly.
Rice. Flour. Ready meals. Protein bars.
Gone.
"Water."
Bottles. Filters. Containers.
Gone.
"Medicine."
Painkillers. Antibiotics. Bandages.
Everything.
Gone.
"Tools."
Axes. Crowbars. Ropes. Generators.
Gone.
Arien moved fast.
Precise.
Controlled.
"This isn't stealing," he thought.
"It's survival."
Clothing next.
Boots. Jackets. Gloves.
Then weapons.
Knives. Pipes. Machetes.
No guns.
"Too loud."
The timer ticked.
02:10… 02:09…
Final aisle.
Seeds.
He paused.
"…Good."
Farming meant sustainability.
Not just survival.
All of it—
Gone.
Stealth faded as he stepped outside.
Arien leaned against the wall.
Exhaled.
"Done."
Inventory check—
✔ Food: Secured✔ Water: Secured✔ Medicine: Secured✔ Tools: Secured✔ Clothing: Secured✔ Seeds: Secured
The city still slept.
He walked back.
Calm.
Unnoticed.
Then—
A voice.
"Hey! Give it back!"
Arien stopped.
An alley.
Three men.
One boy.
The boy struggled.
"They're mine—give it back!"
Laughter.
Mocking.
Arien sighed.
"…Tch."
He stepped forward.
"Let him go."
They turned.
One smirked.
"You lost?"
Arien moved.
One strike—
Throat.
One kick—
Knee.
One punch—
Jaw.
The third froze.
"…What the hell—"
Arien grabbed him.
Slammed him into the wall.
"Leave."
They ran.
No hesitation.
The boy collapsed against the wall.
Breathing hard.
"Th-thank you…"
Arien handed him the bag.
"Be careful," he said.
"People will get worse."
The boy hesitated.
"What do you mean?"
Arien didn't answer.
"My dad is sick," the boy said quickly."I'm going to get medicine."
Arien gave a small nod.
"Go."
The boy ran.
Arien watched him leave.
Didn't ask his name.
Didn't need to.
He turned away.
His phone vibrated.
Sophia.
The villa is ready. Shall we proceed tomorrow?
A base.
Finally.
Arien typed:
Yes. Tomorrow.
He slipped the phone back.
The sky above looked calm.
Peaceful.
Fake.
"…six days," he murmured.
Then—
A thought.
"No reward?"
The supply quest.
Nothing yet.
DING.
A message appeared.
Reward will be granted upon base establishment.
"…I see."
That made sense.
He walked again.
Slower now.
Thinking ahead.
The villa.
Needs reinforcement.
Barriers.
Escape routes.
Storage.
Defense.
"There's still a lot to do…"
Fatigue crept in.
"…Six hours," he muttered.
"I'll rest."
Skills drained energy.
More than expected.
He returned home.
Collapsed onto the bed.
Sleep came quickly.
Morning.
His phone rang.
The next phase—
Was beginning.
To be continued…