The sunlight was not the warm, golden glow Chen remembered from his hazy dreams of a Midwest parking lot. It was a filtered, sickly violet, strained through a permanent layer of atmospheric ash. As he stepped out, the "Apocalyptic Guide" didn't just stay in his vision; it began to expand, analyzing the rubble with a clinical detachment that felt eerily familiar.
[Notice: You have entered the 'Scenario Zone: The Fallen Academy.']
[Difficulty: E-Rank (Bronze)]
[Current Objective: Survive the First Wave.]
Chen paused, his hand still on the rusted bunker door. He felt a strange sensation, as if his mind were a library where someone had recently rearranged all the shelves. He didn't know who he was, but he knew how things worked. He understood that in this new world, monsters weren't just predators; they were archetypes. They followed the internal logic of a story.
A low growl echoed from behind a collapsed brick wall. A figure emerged, but it wasn't a rotting corpse. This was a Script-Stalker, a Bronze-level entity that looked like a man stretched too thin, its skin the texture of old vellum.
[Monster Identified: Script-Stalker (Bronze - Level 5)]
[Attribute: Narrative Parasite — It grows stronger by mimicking the combat patterns of its prey.]
"A mimic," Chen whispered, his voice dry. "How unoriginal. I hope you have a better personality than your character design suggests."
The Stalker lunged. It didn't move like an animal; it moved like a flicker in a film reel, skipping across the pavement in disjointed bursts of speed. Chen's Martial Awareness flared. He didn't think; he reacted.
As the creature's jagged, ink-stained claws swept toward his throat, Chen performed a "Dramatic Pivot." He stepped inside the creature's guard, his body moving with a fluid grace that felt entirely too elegant for a man who had just woken up in a dumpster.
He delivered a sharp, open-palm strike to the Stalker's chest. The impact sounded like a heavy book hitting a stone floor. The creature skidded back, its ink-eyes widening in confusion. It let out a screech and suddenly its stance changed. It was mimicking Chen's own relaxed, "Salted Fish" posture.
"Oh? You want to be lazy too?" Chen chuckled, though his eyes remained sharp. "There's an art to doing nothing effectively. You're trying too hard."
The Stalker attacked again, this time with more precision. It used a leg sweep identical to the one Chen had mentally prepared. Chen didn't retreat. He jumped, tucking his knees to his chest, and used the creature's momentum to vault over its head.
[Skill Activated: 'Sovereign's Intuition' (Level 1)]
[Insight: The enemy's next move is a 'Desperate Flurry'.]
Mid-air, Chen spotted the weakness. The Stalker's neck was unnaturally elongated, a structural flaw in its "Narrative." As he landed, he grabbed a discarded theatrical rapier—a prop from the old drama room—and drove it into the creature's shadow.
The Stalker didn't bleed; it dissolved into black ink and shredded paper.
[Scenario Update: First Wave Defeated!]
[Reward: 500 Coins + 'Broken Script' Fragment.]
Chen looked at the black stains on his hoodie and sighed. "Ten years of sleep and the first thing I do is get covered in ink. I hope the System Shop sells laundry detergent."
He opened his digital wallet. The 500 coins sat there, glowing with a faint blue light. He felt a strange "Skill" settle into his brain—Narrative Interference. It was a passive ability that allowed him to see the "Health Bars" and "Skill Names" of enemies, turning the terrifying apocalypse into a structured game.
"System," Chen said, leaning against a pile of 'Expired Strawberry Milk' crates. "Why does this feel like I'm playing a role I've already mastered?"
[Data Restricted,] the Apocalyptic Guide replied with its usual cheery ping. [User 'Chen' is advised to focus on the next Scenario. The Sanguine Lord of the Midwest has detected a 'Power Spike' in this sector. A Silver-Rank 'Collector' has been dispatched.]
Chen checked the weight of the prop rapier. It was flimsy, but in his hands, it felt like a weapon of mass destruction. He looked toward the school's gymnasium, where the shadows seemed to be thickening into something more substantial than mere ink.
"A 'Collector'?" Chen grinned, the violet light in his eyes flaring. "I hope he brought some decent snacks. I'm starving, and this milk is definitely past its prime."