"It As the word left his mouth, a red, transparent interface hummed into existence. It didn't just appear; it flickered into reality with a low-frequency vibration that Arthas felt in his teeth.
[ SYSTEM INTERFACE: STATUS ]
User Profile
Name: Arthas Domino
Age: 23
Level: 1 (25/100 EXP)
Class: [UNASSIGNED] (Unlockable at LVL 5)
Vital Statistics
HP: 60/60 (Rank: Above Average)
MP: 20/20
Stat Points Available: 10
[Primary Attributes]
Strength: 6
Speed: 8
Stamina: 7
Mental: 8
Durability:7
System Remark: Your baseline metrics exceed the standard human average (5). A promising Player.
[SKILL TREE]
Combat Mastery
• Hand-to-Hand Combat: Level 4
• Weapon Mastery (Melee): Level 5
• Weapon Mastery (Ballistics): Level 3
Innate Trait: [S-RANK] Primal Perception
Passive Effect: Grants heightened spatial awareness and combat reflexes.
Bonus: +20% passive Recovery Speed (HP/MP).
Active Effect: [LOCKED]
Cost: 10 MP/sec
Utility: Identifies structural weaknesses and critical strike points on any target.
Boost: Increases all physical attributes by 20% for the duration of activation.
[MAGIC]
Not available
Arthas leaned back against the damp stone, his crimson eyes reflecting the digital glow. The profile was clinical, stripping his life down to raw data.
"It really looks like a game, doesn't it?" he whispered, a small, dark smirk playing on his lips. "Level 1... 25 EXP."
He scanned the attributes. Seeing his Rank listed as Above Average brought a flicker of grim satisfaction. All those years in the Camp, the sleepless drills, the live-fire exercises, and the missions that left him with the jagged scar on his brow—weren't for nothing.
His gaze lingered on the [S-RANK] Primal Perception.
"An S-Rank skill... that explains the 'third eye' feeling during the fight," he muttered. He could still feel the phantom sensation of the goblin's spear before it had even been thrust. It wasn't just reflexes; it was a spatial awareness that bordered on precognition.
He tapped the screen on the Mental stat, curious about its vagueness.
[Mental: A measure of cognitive fortitude. Governs resistance to illusions, mind manipulation, and direct soul-based attacks. High Mental stats allow for greater clarity under extreme psychological stress.]
"Handy for not going insane in a place like this," he noted, closing the sub-tab.
Next came the distribution. He had ten points to burn—the currency of survival. He didn't hesitate. In his experience, a soldier who couldn't move was a dead soldier, but a soldier who couldn't hit back was just a target. He needed balance.
"System," he commanded, "Allocate 4 to Speed, 3 to Strength, and 3 to Stamina."
The response was immediate. A surge of artificial heat flooded his nervous system. His heart hammered a frantic rhythm for five seconds before settling into a deep, powerful thrum. His muscles didn't bulge outward like a bodybuilder's; instead, they seemed to tighten and densify, becoming like high-tension steel cables under his skin.
[ Attributes Updated ]
Strength: 9
Speed: 12
Stamina: 10
Mental: 8
Durability: 7
Arthas stood up, his movements now possessing a predatory fluidity that surpassed his peak human performance from ten minutes ago.
"How do I ask questions?" Arthas swiped through the red menus, his fingers moving with practiced efficiency. He stopped at an icon that seemed almost parody-like in this nightmare. "They actually have a Customer Service?"
He tapped the icon. A different, more melodic chime echoed.
{Greetings, Player Arthas. You have Five Questions. What do you wish to know?}
"What is this place?" Arthas asked immediately.
{This is Zone #27943#. You have Four Questions left.}
The number felt cold. Precise. "Zone #27943#... does that mean there are other Zones?" he wondered aloud.
{Searching... Positive. There are approximately Seven Hundred Thousand active Zones.}
Arthas's blood ran cold. "Wait, I didn't mean that as a formal question!"
{You have three chances left.}
"Damn it," he hissed, but he forced himself to stay calm. The scale of this was beyond anything he had imagined. Seven hundred thousand zones, each likely filled with ten thousand people. The "Games" weren't just a local event; they were a planetary harvest.
"What is a Zone?" he asked, making his third question count.
{A Zone is a designated Safe Space for Players. Outside the boundaries of a Zone, the environment is toxic to your existence. A Player loses 10 HP per second until death or reentry.}
So the "Safe Zone" wasn't just a game mechanic—it was a life-support system.
He looked at his remaining two questions. His heart ached to ask about Xavier. Is Xavier Domino alive? Which Zone is he in? But he bit his tongue. Information was too valuable to waste on a search that might come up empty if he didn't know the right parameters.
"I'll save those last two for later," he said, closing the interface.
At the top center of his vision, a new timer had appeared: [The Zone shrinks in 23:31:05]. He had less than a day before the 40km radius became a death trap.
He opened the map in the top-right corner. The terrain was labeled as Strixen. It was a jagged landscape of ravines and dense, alien foliage. Dotted across the map were small shopping cart icons. He tapped one.
[Market: A neutral ground to trade Loot, Monster Corpses, and Valuables for System Credits.]
Arthas looked at the five goblin corpses. Their green blood was already beginning to congeal, filling the cave with a copper-and-sulfur stench. "If I can sell these, I need to move them fast."
He pinned a Market location roughly 400 meters away. Even closer, only 300 meters to the west, was a river.
"First things first," he grumbled, looking down at his white hoodie. It was ruined—soaked in emerald gore that had begun to smell like rotting cabbage. "I stink."
He peeled off the heavy hoodie, revealing a fitted black T-shirt that showed off his lean, newly augmented physique. His medium-length black hair had fallen loose during the struggle; he gathered the dark strands and tied them back into a tight bun, leaving a few loose strands to frame his scarred face.
He grabbed the ankles of two goblins, their skin clammy and rough. With his new Strength of 9, he barely felt their weight.
"300 meters to the water," he muttered, glancing at the map one last time. "Then the market. Then I find out how to get to the other zones."
As he dragged the bodies toward the cave entrance, the light of Strixen hit him. The sky wasn't blue; it was a bruised violet, and the sun was a pale, oversized orb that cast long, distorted shadows across the alien valley.
The game had truly begun.