[12:00, October 9, 2252]
In a dilapidated underground sewer, the steady spinning of a worn-out washing machine rattled on.
[Time remaining: 42 minutes until the first trial begins]
[Player, prepare yourself.]
A young man with a naked body had been sitting, leaning against the washing machine. His black eyes looked at the screen ahead with visible boredom, as if it wasn't the first time he had seen it.
He took a long breath, tiredly dismissing the vague text in midair before gently scratching an itch on his back.
For some reason, the washing machine suddenly broke down. Then, a faint burning smell reached his nose, completely overwhelming the thick, musty odor of old relics buried in layers of hardened mud across the sewer pathways. Acting on instinct, the young man shot up and quickly rescued his precious pants.
The anxiety carved on his face slowly shifted to relief when he saw his pants were unharmed.
"Still fine…"
However, the washing machine didn't have the same luck as his pants. He lingered for a few seconds before speaking in a complicated tone.
"It's not my fault."
The young man sighed, forced to wear the pants that had already worn thin after being used and washed many times – patched with several pieces of fabric in some spots.
At this moment, he felt like a literal homeless person… no, even worse.
Well, he couldn't ask for anything more. Just a week earlier, he hadn't even had any pants to wear.
[8:34, October 2, 2252]
He woke up in a stasis chamber in a devastated city without having a clue… No, actually, there was one thing: he'd seen a black pigeon symbol on the outer shell of the stasis chamber.
It looked like a symbol of a company or corporation, but he had never seen it before. Before long, the holographic text appeared out of nowhere, congratulated him on becoming a player, and gave him a week to prepare for the first trial.
When he got out of the stasis chamber and looked at the ruined scene of the city around him, his emotions stirred along with the cold seeping into his naked body.
No humans. Not even a single living creature. Just the wreckage of modern buildings, remnants of mankind's golden age, looking like something out of a science fiction movie.
A future he never could've imagined was now in front of him.
He had no idea why a 17-year-old boy living in the 21st century like him could be here.
He couldn't remember the last thing he had done, in his vague memory. Maybe playing games or reading books.
His family? His friends? Perhaps all of them were dead.
A feeling of sadness gripped his heart, but it quickly turned to emptiness.
He felt utterly lonely… until a passerby caught his attention – an old man.
***
Back to the present.
By the time the young man had been boiling water on a rusty induction cooker, an old man emerged from the darkness, far from the dim light of a bulb hanging from the ceiling of the underground sewer, its unsteady flicker looking like it could give out at any moment.
The messy silver-haired old man gently took off his old gas mask, revealing a smudged, wrinkled face – especially his yellow teeth when he smiled.
"Kid, let's see the fruits of my hunt."
He lifted two rats, each the size of a fully grown cat, limp in his hands.
"I have a name, old man. Please call me Luke," Luke grumbled.
The old man, called Polly, chuckled, headed over Luke, and tossed the two big rats into the boiling pot.
Luke sat on a worn-out piece of cardboard, watching what might be their last meal float in the boiling water, their eyes hollow.
20 minutes later…
Luke gulped as he watched the rat lying on an old tray of food, and picked it up. He glanced at the old man chewing the rat deliciously, as if it were a premium meal, then turned his black eyes back to his meal.
Even though he had been eating rats for almost a week, he couldn't restrain the nausea at the sight.
"I have to try. Foul or not, I still need to stuff my stomach."
He took a big bite, devouring it without chewing. Yet the disgusting taste lingered on his tongue – a bitter, meaty flavor, like liquid squeezed from a sock worn for a year.
He grimaced in extreme disgust, tapping gently on his bare chest to force it down.
A dozen minutes passed after they finished their meal.
"Take it."
The old man spoke while handing Luke a gas mask. It seemed he had found it on one of his scavenging trips in the ruined city. Most of the stuff here came from his scavenging trips as well.
"Thank you, old man. I owe you for this."
However, the atmosphere suddenly shifted. Polly's voice turned completely serious.
"Do you remember what I told you?"
Luke sighed and repeated Polly's warning.
"Absolutely do not take off your mask in any situation. Because a virus in the air will invade your respiratory system and turn you into a kind of monster… a so-called dusker?"
The old man had explained the current state of the world for Luke – a dystopia where humanity must struggle to survive against the Duskers.
Why were they called Duskers? Well, it was a long story.
These nagging issues all stemmed from a type of technology that improved human genes, turning people into supernatural beings.
Naturally, that exclusive power wasn't for poor, lowlife humans.
The social structure shifted rapidly, leaving ordinary humans with no voice. And so, that day came.
At exactly 18:00 on April 12, 2052 – two hundred years ago – the day everyone called by grand-sounding names: Doomsday, the Dusk of Reckoning, etc.
The countless riots erupted across the world, protesting and demanding rights for the underclass – trapped in an endless cycle of poverty and exploitation under the high class, as the gap between social classes grew day by day.
However, a disaster occurred – humans began turning into hideous monsters amid the riots by an unknown virus. At first, it was just a small group, then it spread to most of the world like an epidemic. They became as strong as superhumans, yet lost their minds – mindless, inhuman beings with a craving for human brains.
Just a month later, in order to put an end to the disaster and human civilization itself –123 nuclear bombs rained down across the entire Earth. A desperate, last-ditch effort to put an end to the plague even if it meant wiping out most of humanity.
Were the Duskers dead yet? …No, they evolved, becoming even stronger.
The rest struggled to survive, but it was almost pointless. They kept dying—until, a hundred years later, trials like a game suddenly appeared out of nowhere. Anyone older than 16 could join the trials and begin to level up. It was like a lifeline to save them, restoring the balance of power between the two sides.
But it didn't mean that humanity had the upper hand.
The old man lingered for a moment before taking out a six-shooter from his pocket. He tossed it to Credic.
"Use it properly."
Credic caressed the old six-shooter – worn, yet still in good condition thanks to the old man's care. It seemed this thing had followed him for a long time.
He gazed at the old man with a complicated look. After a moment, he nodded reluctantly.
He really needed it. Well, after all, compared to the children of this current era, he had no skills or training, so at least it could help him a bit.
[Time remaining: 2 minutes until the first trial begins]
[Player, prepare yourself.]
Luke blinked for a moment before speaking.
"Old man, looks like it's time to say… goodbye. But first, I want to thank you for everything this past week."
The old man nodded quietly. He also wanted to thank Luke. Though their meeting had been by chance, it had warmed his old, lone heart for a week. It was enough for him, who had long grown tired of living in this world.
He glanced into the distance. It appeared his time for the trial had come too. He hesitated a few times, then said,
"Luke… for some reason, I feel like this might be the last time we'll talk. So, I have a few words for you."
His face turned firm and serious, different from his usual joking expression. He stared at the six-shooter in Luke's hands - the one he had once intended to use to kill himself.
"No matter what… don't let yourself turn into a Dusker. It would be a curse for you. So… save one last bullet for yourself, just in case."
Luke looked thoughtful, considering the old man's advice. After a few seconds, he gave a small nod.
"You too."
[The first trial has commenced. Preparing to transfer you now.]