"I've been in the world of 'Destiny Eternal' for almost 5 hours now."
On Earth, he had been a twenty-two-year-old orphan with a social circle as thin as his bank account. Back there, he was a nobody. Here? He was a glitch in a divine machine.
'In truth, I'm much happier here, as I've felt a strange sense of belonging here in this world, and just the thought of reincarnation is exciting. I'll rule this world as the absolute authority.'
The air in Destiny Eternal didn't just feel real—it felt like it belonged in his lungs. Reincarnation wasn't just a second chance; it was a promotion.
"I'll rule as the absolute authority" though he winced as a branch poked his rotting ribcage. "Once I get past the whole 'slowly decomposing' phase."
Despite his grand ambitions, the reality of a Level 1 zombie was a constant blade dangling over his neck. One wrong step, and he won't just be "logged out"—he would be erased.
"Alright, System. Let's see what 50 gold gets a future God of Destruction."
He scrolled through the shop, his eyes landing on the essentials.
Shovel: 48 Gold.
Iron Spike: 40 Gold (Each).
"Are you kidding me?" Montu hissed. "Forty gold for a single spike? Is it made of Dragon bones or Zerips teeth?"
[MARKET INFLATION IS A TRAGEDY,] the System chimed. [PERHAPS IF YOU HADN'T SPENT YOUR PREVIOUS LIFE AS A BROKE STUDENT, YOU'D BE MORE COMFORTABLE WITH PREMIUM HARDWARE.]
"Shut up and give me the shovel."
Ding! A heavy, surprisingly sturdy iron shovel materialized in his hands. Montu weighed it. It was solid. Robust. "If I can't kill them with magic, I'll kill them with manual labor."
He hiked half a mile from the camp, finding a choke point between two massive roots. Then, he began to dig.
For seven hours, Montu worked like a machine. A human would have collapsed from exhaustion, their heart hammering against their ribs. But Montu's heart was a silent lump of decaying meat. He didn't sweat. He didn't pant. He just dug, his zombie muscles firing with tireless, rhythmic rot.
By dawn, a ten-foot pit yawned in the earth. Three feet wide—perfect for snapping a leg or trapping a body. But it was empty.
"I need spikes," he muttered, glaring at his empty wallet. "System, any 'Absolute Authority' discounts?"
[YOU CAN MAKE THEM YOURSELF,] the System whispered.
"With what? My glowing personality?"
[^_*]
"Don't you 'cute face' me! Answer!"
The System went dark. Montu growled, kicking a tree. Then, he looked at the tree. Then the rocks. "Right. Primitive crafting." He broke off thick, stubborn branches and spent the next hour grinding them against a jagged stone.
"Ha! Who needs the shop?" he exclaimed, triumphantly holding up a makeshift wooden stake. He lined the bottom of the pit with the wooden stakes and covered the opening with a delicate layer of leaves and dirt.
[NOTIFICATION: Created 'Rudimentary Pit Trap']
Reward: +2 Stat Points for Ingenuity.
"Now we're talking!" Montu grinned. He dumped a point into Strength and one into Speed. A faint, itchy tingling washed over his limbs, like ants crawling under his skin.
Then, he looked at the trap. It looked... bland. It needed something to draw them in. Something organic. Something that smelled like a "helpless kill."
He looked at his helpless left arm.
"Well," he muttered, raising the shovel like a guillotine. "I'm not using it for much anyway."
[I pity the poor arm (・ω・)]
CRUNCH. It took three wet, sickening hacks. Montu didn't feel pain, but the sound was enough to make his phantom stomach turn. He tossed his own severed limb onto the center of the leaves.
[HP: 26/35]
He retreated into the bush to let [Regenerate] work its magic.
Regeneration proficiency increased
(60/100)
Three hours later, Montu was back at full health and full limbs, and he was on his way to the goblin camp.
"What is a stupid arm doing in the middle of the forest, I should remove it before the young lady sees this disgusting thing."
He was strolling toward the goblins, ready to scout, when his vision was suddenly obscured by a massive, golden explosion of text.
[KILL CONFIRMED: Level 5 Human (Scout)]
Reward: 530 EXP | 300 Gold.
[LEVEL UP!]
[Current Level: 2]
Bonus: +3 Stat Points.
Montu froze. "I... I killed a human? Already? When?"
He checked the math. 530 EXP? That was a massive haul for a zombie.
The sudden news of his supposed murder and subsequent leveling up confused Montu, causing him to wonder when and how he had killed someone.
Then, a realization dawned on him that the individual must have fallen into the trap he had set and perished as a result.
He had no qualms about accepting the free experience points, nor did he consider the value of the human life he had taken.
After accessing his profile, he allocated two points to his strength and one point to his speed attributes. "I should check out for myself and find out what exactly happened." He then proceeded towards his trap, which he reached after a few minutes of walking.
As he approached his trap, he heard voices. Real, melodic human voices. A group was huddled around the pit. Four men in leather armor and a girl, barely fifteen, staring down into the hole where a man lay impaled on Montu's "budget" stakes.
They were shouting, but it sounded like gibberish—a mix of harsh vowels and melodic trills.
"System, why can't I understand the 'heroes'?"
[THEY ARE SPEAKING THE 'NATIVE TONGUE' OF THE HUMAN REALM. AS A ZOMBIE, YOUR LINGUISTIC CAPABILITIES ARE CURRENTLY LIMITED TO 'MOAN' AND 'GRUNT'.]
"Fix it. Now."
[PURCHASE 'NATIVE LANGUAGE UNDERSTANDING' FOR 250 GOLD?]
Montu looked at his new 300 gold. He had just earned it from the dead guy in the hole. It felt like a fair trade. "Buy it."
FLASH.
A massive surge of data slammed into his brain. He didn't just learn the words; he felt the grammar, the slang, and the history of the tongue settle into his mind.
"...what do we do now?" one of the men was saying, pointing a gloved hand at the pit.
Montu crouched lower in the shadows, his red-streaked hair blending with the dark leaves. They were looking at his trap. They were looking at his "bait."
And now, for the first time, he could hear exactly what they were planning to do to the "monster" who set it.