“The great questions of the day will not be decided by speeches and majority decisions—but by iron and blood.”

  — Otto von Bismarck

  When Sloane closed her eyes, the city still belonged to the night. But sleep did not belong to her. She jolted at a vibration. In the dark room, a blue window appeared before her eyes.

  [Daily Survival Reward Available]

  [Day 1 Completed]

  For a moment, she forgot how to breathe. So it had really happened. Yesterday had not been a hallucination. She raised her hands. They were trembling.

  [Reward: Random Trait Fragment]

  [Reward: Minor Stat Increase]

  [Reward: Unidentified Item]

  [Random Trait Fragment (1/2) Obtained]

  [+1 Charisma Increased]

  [Dull Survival Tool Obtained]

  “What fragment…” she murmured. When she touched the third line, something appeared in her palm.

  Cold. Metal. So ordinary it was almost shapeless. It resembled a small pocketknife, yet was far too blunt to be called a blade.

  Its handle was cracked plastic. The tip was flat. It had no edge. It wasn’t made to cut… It looked like something meant to pry things open.

  A new window appeared.

  [Item Identified]

  [Dull Survival Tool] [Quality: Common]

  [Description: A crude tool for desperate situations.]

  “Desperate situations…” she whispered. “How poetic.”

  She set it down and leaned against the wall. There used to be mornings at home. Coffee. She closed her eyes. Even the word coffee belongs to another world now.

  The room trembled again. But this time, it wasn’t a personal window. It was larger. Brighter.

  [Global Event Triggered]

  [1st Global Event Started]

  [Event: Taste of First Blood]

  [Objective: Kill monsters]

  [Ranking based on total kills]

  1st Place: Rare Skill + Item

  2nd Place: Rare Item

  3rd Place: Uncommon Item

  4th–100th Place: Common Item

  Participation Reward: Minor Stat Increase

  [Time Limit: 6 hours]

  [No reward will be given without at least one kill]

  Sloane straightened. The last line caught her attention. She stared blankly at the screen. “How am I supposed to kill something with my inefficient class?” Her voice echoed in the room.

  Killing aside, she had barely survived the first day. And now the system was telling her one thing:

  Kill.

  One of the voices in her mind chuckled.

  The game has begun.

  She stood and looked out the window. Dawn had not yet come. The sky was trapped between dark purple and black. Yesterday she had hidden. Today, she was uncertain. She looked at the blunt tool in her hand. Could she kill something with this?

  How would she kill? Could she?

  But the system had already answered.

  [Event Status: Active]

  She took a deep breath and headed for the door. Today, she tried to kill something for the first time. Her only wish was that it would be a monster.

  She stepped outside before sunrise. The sky was gray—neither night nor morning. The world hesitated. Just like her.

  “At least one,” she muttered. “Kill one. Then hide.”

  The system’s rewards lingered in her mind. Power. Survival. She scanned the streets carefully. She avoided large creatures. Searched for something smaller. Slower.

  But what she found… were corpses. Torn bodies. Burned skin. Dried blood. Then… something moved. She froze.

  Across the street, hanging from a store window, a creature was alive. About the size of a large dog. Its skin was gray, like moldy flesh. Its spine protruded visibly. When it lifted its head, it had no eyes. Yet she felt it looking at her.

  Her heart slammed against her ribs. For the first time… a living one. Until now, she had only seen results. This was the cause. The creature tilted its head. Sloane looked at the dull tool in her hand.

  “I can do it,” she thought. “I have to.”

  A window flickered open.

  [Reality Check triggered]

  The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

  Dice rolled.

  [Rolled: 2]

  [Failure, target cannot be intimidated]

  No. In that instant, everything collapsed. Her strength vanished. Her resolve crumbled. Thought gave way to instinct.

  The creature snarled and lunged. Sloane turned and ran. Her foot caught the ground. Her breathing broke apart. She stumbled to an apartment entrance and slammed into the door. Locked.

  “No, no, no—”

  Behind her came the wet sound of dragging flesh. It was close. She pounded on the door. Shoulder-first. It didn’t open. When she turned, the creature was right in front of her. Its mouth split sideways. No teeth—just a jaw. It leapt for the killing blow—

  Its head snapped sideways. An arrow. Through its skull. The body collapsed. Sloane fell to the ground. She couldn’t breathe. Her stomach twisted. She looked at her hands. They were shaking. At the end of the street, someone stood. A human silhouette. A bow in his hand. The monster was dead. But not by her hand.

  She had thought she could do it. Kill one. A hollow confidence. She didn’t have the coldness of a killer in her. She was too soft for this world. She sat on the apartment steps. The corpse lay a few meters away. Its head twisted at an unnatural angle. In the morning light, its gray skin looked even uglier. The system was silent.

  Footsteps approached. “Hey,” someone said.

  She didn’t lift her head. The sound reached her ears but had no meaning. Her mind was full—fear, shame, tangled together.

  “I saved you,” the man said. “You’re lucky.”

  Still no response. He reached out and touched her shoulder. In that instant, Sloane’s world shifted. The hand on her shoulder dragged yesterday’s buried memories to the surface. Reflexively, she grabbed his wrist and shoved it away.

  “Don’t touch me!” The man staggered back two steps, nearly falling. She spoke to herself, her voice hysterical. “Why? Stop—wait.”

  He raised both hands immediately. “Alright, alright. Calm down. I’m not going to hurt you.” His bow was still in his hand. “I saved your life. And this is how you react?”

  She jumped to her feet, as if returning to reality. The dull knife was clenched in her hand. “What did you say?” she asked, exhausted.

  “You’re alive, but the apocalypse messed with your head pretty well,” he said mockingly. His movements were confident, relaxed—almost amused. Her silence pushed him to continue. His face grew serious.

  “So there are still people who can’t fight monsters,” he said. “Pathetic.”

  She felt pitiful.

  Her heart still raced, but she was conscious now. He stood a few steps away, hands raised. She studied him for the first time. Late twenties. A quiver over his shoulder. A jacket made from scavenged pieces. His face was tired, but his eyes were alive.

  Too alive.

  “Great,” he said. “I will save your life and get turned into a statue.”

  “You… killed it,” she said quietly.

  “Yes.” He shrugged. “And you didn’t die. Simple.”

  She looked at the corpse. “I… was going to.”

  He laughed softly. “No. You weren’t.” The words struck like a slap. “It was your first living one, wasn’t it?” he said.

  She didn’t answer.

  “Listen,” he continued, lowering his bow. “This city is a playground now. The rules are simple. Kill or die. Hesitation gets you killed.”

  “I know,” she said. “But… not everyone can be like you.”

  “Like me?”

  “So… comfortable.”

  He was silent for a moment. Then he kicked the corpse’s head.

  “I’m not comfortable,” he said. “I’m used to it.”

  A window appeared.

  [Monster Kill Confirmed]

  Another window flickered before Sloane and vanished.

  “See?” he said. “System confirmed. My kill.”

  She looked away.

  “You have to do it,” he said. “You can’t rely on anyone else.” She knew that. Hearing it made her clench her teeth. “You’re not a fighter,” he said plainly. “I don’t need to know you to see that.”

  No mockery. Just a fact. “And no, I’m not taking you with me,” he added. “You panic. You freeze. And that thing earlier—don’t even get me started.”

  She realized this kept happening. She survived, but she didn’t advance.

  My feelings about killing are holding me back. If this continues, I’ll die.

  He misread her silence as defiance. “Do whatever you want,” he snapped, turning away. “If we meet again—hopefully we won’t—don’t forget you owe me.”

  He left.

  Sloane stood alone with her thoughts.

  If I could become like him… would it be fine?

  A second consciousness rose within her.

  You cannot become like him.

  She closed her eyes. Maybe.

  The voice wasn’t hers. It was clearer. Colder.

  Kill as a tool, not as a purpose.

  She looked at the corpse again. Blood ran between the cracks in the pavement like a small stream. As the adrenaline faded, cold seeped into her bones. She was shaking. Hungry. How much time was left in the event? Should I give up?

  The street grew quiet again. The sun rose. Its light brought not hope, but fear of tomorrow. Food mattered more. She moved from shop to shop. Discount posters had become shattered glass. In a market, shelves were overturned. A bakery smelled of burned dough. In a kiosk—only blood.

  Each step was slow. She listened before opening the doors. Hunger was quieter than fear—and more persistent. Near noon, she found her first meal in the back of a liquor shop. A bottle of water and a can. The label was faded but readable: Fruit cocktail.

  The dull tool finally had a use.

  She wedged it into the lid. On the second try, the can popped open and a sweet smell filled the air. She ate with her fingers. Cool and sugary. She didn’t stop until it was gone. Then she tilted the can and drank the last liquid inside.

  She couldn’t kill monsters… but she could survive.

  She ignored the system notice about the event’s final minutes.

  If it doesn’t work, it doesn’t.

  She tilted the can to get the last drop. Then a sound came from the back room. Wet dragging. A hoarse breath. She stood slowly, gripping the knife. She pushed the door open. Inside, in the half-darkness, something lay.

  Smaller than the others. Chest soaked in blood. One leg missing.

  Dying. It turned its head toward her. It noticed her—but didn’t flee. Didn’t attack.It had accepted the end.

  Looking at its ugly face, she saw herself.

  This morning’s scene… only the roles were reversed. No one is coming to save you.

  Her grip tightened. Her heart raced. For the first time, she would take a life. She steadied her trembling hand.

  She realized she had been holding her breath. She exhaled.

  The blade sank into gray flesh in silence.

  Crack…

  [1st Global Event Finished]

  [Your Kill Count: 1]

  [Reward: Minor Stat Increase]