4 The Grand Culling
[Notice: Conventional attacks are ineffective against [Defects]. Any creations of [Humankind] will be insufficient in harming [Defects]. If you wish to combat [Defects], refer to using [Equip], Player Jeong-Hui.]
"Ineffective…? Equip?" He muttered.
Guns, bombs–none of that will hurt these? Wait, the system is right–that guy earlier used "Equip" and blew that Defect away, he thought.
"Alright…" He spoke quietly.
Drawing in a breath through his lips, he inhaled and exhaled slowly as the bludgeoning Defect approached him with the buzzing growing louder.
It's do-or-die, and I really don't feel like biting it before I get laid. Hell, I haven't even kissed a girl yet! He thought.
Just as it came close enough to launch an attack of its own once again, he brought his emerald gaze up.
"Equip!" He shouted out.
With that singular command, a flash of light enveloped his body, superseding the old t-shirt he wore and his gray sweatpants, instead imposing an iridescent, all-white uniform with a snowy coat over his body.
Fingerless, white gloves placed themselves over his hands with the outfit finishing its materialization as blue stripes ran along the divine fabric.
This is weird. I feel…strong. Really strong, he thought.
A blue hood was attached to his coat, and a lengthy, azure scarf flowed behind him, wrapped around his shoulders and neck loosely.
It wasn't just his physiology that felt augmented by [Equip], but something about his mind felt shifted as well. Everything seemed to process just slightly faster, though his emotions were still running rampant, the shot of adrenaline from his first experience suppressed his desire to break down.
Right now…I have to win. If I don't win right here, I'll die, he thought.
Looking at his hands, he clenched them tightly before noticing an incoming attack from the Defect.
This time, he saw its movements clearly–the pathway of its fist seemed almost obvious to him now.
With a side-step, he moved himself out of the way of the fist with a surprised look on his face.
I'm fast, too, he thought.
After evading the flat-surfaced attack from the Defect, he finally recognized the existence of the sheath at his back, gripping the handle of the blade as he drew it. He ended up behind the pale-skinned entity, backstepping a bit to create some space.
"Urr, System," he called on the system, "do I have any skills or magic? Something like that?"
[Question Recognized.]
[Processing…]
Damn, does it always have to process? I don't have time for this, he thought.
He adjusted his glasses as the wind pressure from the Defect's fist shifted their position slightly ajar.
[Answer: currently available [Skills] as a [Level 1] [Beginner Assassin]: [Passive Skill] inherent to [Beginner Assassin]: [Super Reflexes] and [Special Skill]: [Light Slash]. For magic, [Spells]: [Flame Lance] [Recon] [Conceal] are available.]
"Alright, I've got something to work with then…" He muttered in response.
Still, a white uniform and a sword? Am I really an assassin?! He questioned.
Before he could activate any such abilities, the Defect swung around in a wild whirlwind, spinning its hammer fists rapidly, though he barely managed to evade their brutal reach.
I guess this is the "Super Reflexes" it mentioned, he thought.
"System, how do I use my skills?!" He asked out while in the process of evading slams of the Defect's hammerfist.
[Question Recognized.]
[Processing…]
[Answer: For a [Special Skill], simply call out its name. For a [Spell], it is required to preface the name of the desired spell with ["Cast"]. Usage of both [Special Skills] and [Spells] will cost in your [Spirit] reserves.]
[...]
[Notice: [Spirit] is the divine essence within players, allowing them to manifest [Special Abilities] and [Spells]. It replenishes naturally over time, and increases with [Level]. Use it wisely.]
It seemed the system quickly recognized the fact he didn't understand the term "Spirit" quite yet, answering before he could ask.
"So it's like "mana" then…thanks," he said as he jumped back to avoid another slam.
Waving his blue-handled longsword around, it came surprisingly natural to him despite it never being something he attempted previously.
Come to think of it—should I have a longsword? Don't assassins in RPGs usually use daggers or short swords? Did I get assigned the wrong equipment?! He thought.
Even still, directly blocking against the bludgeoning fist of the Defect caused him to be flung back before landing on his feet with a slight wince.
"It's still stronger, huh…? Guess it's time to try out these abilities of mine then," he muttered, raising his hand and pointing it towards the approaching enemy.
"Cast: Flame Lance!"
[Spirit: -100. Remaining Spirit: 1400/1500.]
Manifesting with embers gathering in front of his extended palms, a spear formed of orange, wild flames responded to his call.
Holy shit…! This is magic! Actual magic! I did it?! I did this—?! He thought.
Somehow seeing the flames manifest in accordance to his words, it began to sink in just what fantastical holds the world was gripped in.
The heat pelted against his skin, but it didn't burn him despite the flutters of the inferno grazing his hand and arm.
Radiance filled the clear lenses of his glasses as he stood there for a moment in complete awe of the magic he conjured, holding it as if unknowing of its true nature.
"...Ah! Go!"
As the Defect drew close, he released the flame-born spear as it flung forward with enough force to knock him back onto his rear as he witnessed its flaming trajectory.
Squelch.
The Defect froze with its hammer-shaped fist in the air; its torso had been pierced by the orange, wild spear as the buzzing became inconsistent, blaring out briefly.
"---"
An unintelligible array of buzzing sounds that met his ears in a painful screech resounding from the pale-skinned freak of nature before the spear engulfed the Defect's body completely in flames.
He sat there on his rear as he watched with hopeful, yet anxious eyes as the flames ate away at the heaven-fallen destroyer.
Within a few moments, the Defect finally conceded to the flames, falling down as a charred corpse.
"...I did it. I beat it," he said in almost disbelief, looking at his hands before squeezing them shut.
A system prompt filled his vision before he could properly celebrate.
["Flattener" defeated. Gained EXP: +15. Current EXP: 15/25.]
"Almost a full level up from one mob? Not bad," he mumbled.
After returning to his feet, he looked at the burnt corpse of the monstrous entity for a moment as another prompt appeared, accompanied by the system's monotone voice.
He watched a light lift from the corpse of the Flattener as it brought itself to him, flowing into his body.
"Woah," he looked at his body.
This is what that guy earlier did, isn't it? He thought.
[Flattener Essence] x1 obtained. Collect [5] in total to unlock [Special Skill]: [Force Stomp]. 1/5.]
"Got it," he nodded, "I think I'm starting to get the hang of this."
Though it was only a temporary smile that came across his lips as his eyes laid back on the bloodbath that had occurred on the very same street.
Seeing those torn bodies, strewn across the once quiet, peaceful street, made him quickly cover his mouth again.
I'm going to be sick, he thought.
With the amount of Defects that fell from the sky, and the screams that filled now just the city, but the world–he retreated back into his apartment with his brief, singular victory in mind.
He didn't waste any time slumping down against the door after closing it.
"This is all real, isn't it?"
The words left his lips laced with tears as he could still feel the surreal disgust of it all swirling in his gut.
[Question Recognized.]
[Processing…]
[Answer: This is indeed reality.]
"Yeah, sometimes not every question needs to be answered…" He replied quietly.
It was painfully engraved into his memory now; the streets painted in crimson.
After bringing himself up, he went to his computer, beginning to search through the web—checking each social media page, and boards.
The main board he checked was Twotter, and the flood of posts didn't seem to end.
[Holy shit! This is crazy!]
[Those freaky things really shredded through tanks…Is the military going to be enough?]
[Checkmate, atheists…unfortunately.]
[Somebody tell me this is all just the drugs still in my system?]
[LOL…This shit is awesome! Anarchy! I'm going to do whatever I want.]
[I'm scared. I'm afraid. They're outside my house right now. My husband is still at work…]
The reactions online were as expected, but worse was seeing the live feed of various places around the globe.
It was total devastation.
The streets were caked in blood, and most people didn't seem to adjust to the system—leaving them helpless against the Defects.
"Shit…I almost forgot…" He snatched his phone, vigorously typing, "Please, please…be okay, Mom!"
Beep. Beep. Beep.
His call couldn't be connected.
The silence on the other line sent him into a saddened rage as he slammed his phone down, putting his face down against his desk.
"Dammit…!"
Though there was no confirmation, he knew what was the most likely outcome considering his brief experience so far.
It was a system made to cull those unprepared, and those unadjusted to aspects of games.
And as such, he knew the likely fate of his singular parent.
"Shit…shit…" he muttered weekly through tears, resting against his desk.
And that was the first day of "Armageddon Game", the dreadful announcement from our so-called benevolent creator who plunged the world into this cruel game.
The world governments were quickly toppled, and over fifty-percent of mankind was wiped out on that first day.
That night, I couldn't sleep…I only did once I eventually passed out–exhausted from staying so tense throughout the whole night. Though…I'm surprised I could even sleep–it was utter chaos.
I could see it on news broadcasts, forums, social media–everything was toppled over. Government facilities seemed to be targeted most by the Defects of Heaven.
What the hell is all of this…? I've been thinking about it.
–
[The Next Morning]
Waking up, he had slept with his back against the wall of his room, clutching his broadsword close to his chest as he was looking straight at the door. He had shoddily barricaded it with a chair, but he realized with another look at it after the initial panic that it certainly wouldn't have stopped one of those things.
"Crap…It wasn't just a nightmare?" He mumbled wearily.
He was hesitant to even make sound within his own home as he slowly brought himself to his feet, moving with legs that hardly wanted to obey, quietly moving towards the window.
"--"
He pushed one of the blinds down to take a peek outside, immediately feeling his stomach drop at the bloodbath that had painted the streets.
Seeing that horrific scenery, he wanted to throw up out of disgust, but even more so–he wanted to cry.
…Is anybody still out there? Am I alone?...I can't…He thought.
As these thoughts latched onto him as he peered past the window, he could see a tall, pale-white Defect marching through the streets, caked in crimson with its saw-like arms swaying at its sides.
"--"
It suddenly shifted around, looking in his direction as he immediately stepped away from the window, falling back onto the kitchen floor.
"...This is too much…"
He tucked his knees close to his chest, unable to handle the abhorrent new reality that sat past his front door.
For hours, he simply sat there, sitting on the kitchen floor in a mixture of grief and horror as the sounds of Defects stomping around outside continued to fill his ears, and periodically–the screams of those unfortunate to cross their paths.
It had already embedded itself into his mind; the horror of the Defects and the slaughter left in their wake–such fresh memories dug into brain, latching onto his will as at the forefront of his mind, he wanted to simply stow away in his home, waiting for whatever would take him, to take him.
But, that resolve, or lack thereof, was tested.
"Aghhh! Help me…!"
–It came from outside; the scream of what sounded to be a child, likely close.
After having sat on the floor for hours until this point, with the veil of noon rising, he slowly picked himself up, peering out of his window to check if his ears were deceiving him or not.
His eyes widened once confirming it: a kid, likely no older than their preteens, was dressed in the all-white uniform of the System, but was crawling away from that same Defect he noticed earlier.
A kid…? What're they doing out here…? Are they stupid?! He thought.
"Help me…! Please!" The young boy screamed again.
The orange-haired boy was clearly injured as his left arm was limp and drenched in blood, frailly holding onto a bow that he could no longer fire with just his singularly functional arm.
All he did was look on anxiously, not knowing what to do with the conflicting parts of his mind, witnessing the Defect march closer and closer to the stumbling child throughout the bloodbathed street.
"Run, you idiot…!" He said through his clenched teeth.
I'm not a hero or anything. I can't just swoop in and save the day. This…this is reality–it's cruel, but if I go out there…there's a good chance we'll both end up dead, he thought.
Still, even as he tried to apply logic to the situation, he found himself clutching the windowsill so tightly that it began to hurt his hands.
It was almost frustrating to watch; the kid clearly had little idea of what the System was or how to utilize its benefits–simply swinging his wooden bow around as a deterrent to the entity that marched forward with the sole purpose of slaughter.
"Come on, kid…Just get out of there!" He yelled out against the window.
Somebody else will come, right? There's others around here, aren't there?...Someone will save this kid, he tried to reason.
While staying close to the window, watching as his teeth were clenched, his palms sweaty, and his emerald eyes wide in suspense–they met eyes.
By some stray chance, perhaps through the window the boy had heard, but the ginger-haired kid had looked up towards that second-story window of the dingy apartment complex, locking gazes but for a moment with him.
For him, this was the worst outcome.
When you look at me like that…He thought.
Those large, hazel eyes screamed out without a word having to be said, speaking directly to him in that passing second: "Save me."
–
The saw-armed Defect stumbled towards the kid in its uneven step, dragging its weaponized limbs across the blood-stained asphalt before rearing its arm back.
"No…" The boy choked out as fear clenched his words.
Falling onto the street, the inexperienced boy could only look up in horror at the inevitable downfall of the pale-skinned, jagged arm crashing down towards his head.
"--"
But, it didn't.
Standing between the helpless boy and the Defect was the vermilion-haired adolescent, holding his broadsword up as he struggled to hold the strike back.
When you look at me like that…I don't have a choice, do I?! He thought.
"Get out of here, kid…!" He said through his clenched teeth.
It took everything he had to keep the heavy limb of the Defect back, feeling the double-handed grip on his sword struggle as sweat caked his palms and his fingers quivered in fear.
Glancing back, he could still see the fear-stricken boy sitting on the ground, silent with his mouth hung agape.
"--I said get out of here, brat!" He yelled out.
This time, he seemed to get through to the kid, who nodded and scrambled to his feet, running in the opposite direction.
He held a relieved expression as the kid left to safety, "...That's good."
–Just then, the Defect swung its other limb, striking his torso with its jagged edge as a fresh rain of crimson reached his view, stumbling back.
It burns, he thought.
[Health: -300 | 400/700]
It was his first time seeing the prompt of health loss, but it was a daunting sight–his very life given a numerical value.
As he looked down, he could see the gash that was stretched across his torso, breathing heavily as it felt surreal to see his body in such a state–but he hardly had the time for such feelings.
"Ghh-!"
He raised his broadsword just in time, thanks to his [Super Reflexes], blocking the incoming strike from the Defect.
…Am I going to die, all thanks to some stupid kid? No…It was my choice to come out here. Against my better judgment, I did it. Why?...Is it because I believed I could do this? Was I wrong? He thought.
Having such a heavy weight pressed down on from atop, he could feel the asphalt tremble and crack beneath his boots before he placed his other hand against the dull side of his blade, putting his full strength into repelling the Defect's limb.
No–! I wasn't wrong!...What's the point of it, anyway?! Why should I survive if I have to give up on myself?--I'm not going to sit around and let myself rot away like before! He resolved.
As he finally repelled the Defect's limb, he spun his blade around, stepping forward as he took the initiative this time:
"Cast: Light Blade!"
[Spirit: -75 | 1425/1500]
With a blade engulfed in burning light, he spun around with his inherent nimbleness as an assassin, carving the seraphic steel through the Defect's side.
"--!"
A metallic howl left from the faceless entity as a chunk of its side was torn away, but even with the massive blow left in it, it still retaliated–to his surprise.
That wasn't enough?! He thought.
With that massive bone-forged saw launching towards him, something kicked in–an instinct that felt unnatural, yet at the same time, came as so as with a spring-like movement, he pressed forward:
[Blink Step]
It wasn't something he was familiar with; some sort of mystical skill that must've been attached to the assassin-class, but it allowed him to move instantaneously from one spot to another closeby, appearing behind the Defect.
With this sudden usage of the unfamiliar skill, the Defect's attack missed, allowing him to go for the finishing blow this time as he jumped up with his sword held tightly.
I'll take it back starting today! He resolved.
Just as the Defect turned to face him, he sunk his blade through its head for the killing blow.
"...Huff…"
As its large body went limp, he stood atop its fallen corpse, withdrawing his blade as he stood there, catching his breath.
["Saw Walker" Defeated. EXP +30]
[Congratulations. You've reached 'Level 2' | EXP 20/50]
[Skill Points: +2]
Reaching the next level, he finally felt as if there was a chance. Additionally, there was a new grasp felt on the situation.
I did it. I reached the next level. But more than that, today…I did something good, he thought.
