Apocalypse

Rargnes stared at a sunset with a beer, feeling depressed.

"Damn, why does my life suck?"

The people at the bar ignored him. That suited him just fine. At least, that's what he told himself.

[The apocalypse is descending.]

Before he could comprehend anything, he was teleported to a white place where he saw a blue window appear.

[Please choose your class from the following: Fighter, Lord, Mage]

He could feel his heart pounding, and he stood there motionless for a few seconds. He was inclined to go for the Lord class but didn't know the effects, so he tried to gather information. He tapped on the Lord class, and it was instantly selected.

[Lord class. You have chosen the class that best aligns with your vision, or you made a mistake.]

[You will be teleported again.]

[Note: These messages will be minimized to optimize your overall intelligence and survival ability.]

What would happen if a person couldn't read? For example, what if a baby received this message?

He was teleported back to where he was, turned around, and noticed fewer people than before. The few who were too drunk seemed to have disappeared.

"Did you see the same thing?" "What the hell is this?"

He passively drank his beer, masking the fear within him. The person next to him was muttering about strange things. His fingers were moving constantly in all directions. He held his beer in both hands, took a sip, and heard a terrifying scream.

He jumped in his chair, immediately turned to his right, and saw his neighbor holding his right hand in pain. It was covered in blood.

"What happened?" the server asked. "Are you okay? Should I call an ambulance?"

"I tried to sense magical power," he finally managed to say with gasps in his voice. "Don't do it."

Some people left. Was it wise to do so? He wanted to stay with the group—at least there would be cannon fodder before him. He spent a few minutes there, ordering another beer, when he heard screams from all directions. Screams of agony.

He looked around in all directions. It was coming from outside. The people around him were also panicking. Then, he saw a figure approaching through the window and bumping into it. It was small, maybe two-thirds of his 5'3" height.

It tried to pass through the window, sniffing around, and let out a horrifying scream. Rargnes hurried to get as far away as possible, on the opposite side of the bar. Someone tried to see what it was, cautiously zooming in on their phone.

"I-Is that a goblin?!"

"Don't talk nonsense! Are you enjoying scaring others?" A few seconds later, a group of identical figures walked by, with one managing to open the door.

"Good day," he spoke in English. "I am Strength-Nature, and I've come to sell you some fine items."

Rargnes noticed the large bag hanging on his back.

"But please, Lords first. Oh, oh, don't look at me like that, just see what I have." He unpacked his bag on the floor. There were clubs, a dagger, and a few wooden shields.

"What is happening here?"

"Ask your questions; I'll take them for 5 currency! But it seems you don't have that much."

"How do we get it then?"

The gobelin pulled out a silver coin from his hand, the size of his palm.

"Everyone tries in their own way. But some people have money—my time is precious."

"Does 5 currency mean 5 coins like the ones you showed us?" a burly man asked.

"Yes, that's correct. Those who chose Lord should have things like these."

The man searched his clothes and produced a purse. He took out 5 coins and handed them over.

"What's your question?" the goblin asked with a smile.

"What happened today?" He motioned for him to come closer, even lower, and whispered something in his ear. A few tens of seconds passed.

"So, what did he say?" someone asked.

"Are there other Lords among you?" The burly man asked

Some gestured positively.

"Good, I'll reveal the answer if you use your money as well."

"What? Now's not the time to be stingy!"

An explosion was heard in the distance.

"Look! Don't you hear that?! We're in danger!"

"But shut up. Money is expensive. How much does it cost? At least 100 dollars for 5 coins of that size, and the price will skyrocket."

Rargnes didn't dare search his clothes for the purse—there were too many eyes at the moment. And he certainly didn't want to escape to the restroom now; he might lose valuable information. Some gave him dark looks, and another person stepped forward.

"What powers does the Lord class possess?" He leaned in, and the goblin spoke to him. The person's face changed. Either the revelation was bad, like the first person, or the goblin must have had a terrible breath odor. The man joined the others.

"What do the other classes do?"

"That's multiple questions. Choose a class."

"Fighter." As subtly as possible, Rargnes searched for his purse during the third question. He placed his hand on it, close to his heart, in a pocket that shouldn't have existed on his coat. He passed his hand over it.

There had to be more than 5 coins—probably around ten. It was his turn to step forward, taking out 5 coins. He leaned in and whispered the question:

"What is the safest method of survival?"

The goblin shook his head.

"That's a question I would like to know the answer to. Ask another one."

He thought for a moment and asked, "What should I be prepared for?"