Chen stood amidst the rubble, poking a pile of "Expired Strawberry Milk" with the tip of his prop rapier. The silence was beginning to itch.
"System," Chen said, leaning against a rusted basketball hoop. "You mentioned levels. Bronze, Silver, Saint—the whole metallurgy collection. Give me the breakdown. If I'm going to be a 'Pillar,' I'd like to know if I'm made of marble or cheap plywood."
[Notice: Categorization of the New World Entities is as follows:]
[Bronze Rank:] The 'Common' tier. These are the Pale zombies with no higher brain function, basic scavengers, and humans who haven't unlocked their Martial Potential. They rely on numbers and basic instincts.
[Silver Rank:] The 'Elite' tier. Includes specialized monsters like the Script-Stalker you just poked to death, Lycan pack leaders, and human warriors who can channel their internal energy. They possess unique traits and heightened physical stats.
[Gold Rank:] The 'Sovereign' tier of the local area. Regional bosses, minor Sanguine Lords, and entities that can survive a direct tank shell without blinking.
[Platinum Rank & Above:] Global threats. These are entities whose mere presence alters the local climate. A 'Diamond' rank could flatten a city by sneezing; a 'Saint' rank is someone who treats the laws of physics like a suggestion.
"And me?" Chen asked.
[User 'Chen' currently possesses a 'Bronze' physical vessel with 'Saint' level potential and 'Martial Awareness' that defies ranking. Suggestion: Do not die before reaching Level 10.]
As if on cue, the shadows beneath the gym bleachers shifted. A figure stepped out into the twilight. It was a Pale.
Unlike the ink-monster from before, this was the standard model: porcelain skin, eyes like frozen grey marbles, and movements that were eerily smooth. It didn't growl; it just stared at Chen with a look of polite hunger.
[Target Identified: The Pale (Bronze - Level 2)]
[Trait: Relentless Pursuit]
"Oh, hello," Chen said, waving the rapier. "You're much prettier than the last guy. Very well-moisturized. What's your secret? Is it the lack of sunlight or a very strict skincare routine?"
The Pale didn't answer. It hissed, its jaw unhinging slightly more than a human's should, and lunged.
Chen stepped to the left—not a frantic dodge, but a casual, swaying movement. The zombie sailed past him, claws raking the air where his ribs had been a second ago.
"Slow," Chen critiqued. "A bit too much leaning into the strike. You'll ruin your lower back."
Chen was about to deliver a "corrective" palm strike when a sound like a distant landslide began to echo from the school's main hallway.
Thump-thump. Thump-thump.
Hundreds of rhythmic footsteps.
Chen looked past the single Pale and saw them. A literal wall of white faces and glowing grey eyes. It was a Zombie Horde, at least three hundred strong, pouring out of the cafeteria like a spilled bag of marbles.
[Warning: Bronze-Rank Horde Detected!]
[Current Odds of Survival in Head-on Combat: 12.4%]
[Mission Updated: Run. Just... really, run.]
"Twelve percent?" Chen blinked as the first row of the horde began to sprint, their porcelain limbs clattering against the floor. "System, I thought I was a 'Pillar of Humanity'."
[Even pillars fall if three hundred people lean on them at once, Chen.]
"Right. Strategic relocation it is!"
Chen didn't wait. He turned on his heel and bolted. But he didn't run like a panicked victim in a horror movie; he ran with the effortless, bouncy stride of someone who had practiced the art of "avoiding work" for eons.
He vaulted over a collapsed locker, used a dangling electrical wire to swing across a gap in the floor, and slid under a falling piece of ceiling tile with the grace of a professional base-stealer.
"Gary!" Chen shouted into the empty air, purely out of habit. "Clear the path! Oh, wait, Gary's not here. I have to do my own stunts!"
He burst through the gymnasium's double doors, the horde hot on his heels. One particularly fast Pale managed to snag the back of his hoodie. Without looking, Chen reached back and stuffed a carton of expired milk into the zombie's open mouth.
"Have a snack! It's aged for a decade!"
The zombie gagged on the fermented strawberry sludge, stumbling and causing a three-zombie pile-up behind it.
[Skill Level Up: 'Sovereign's Intuition' (Level 2)]
[New Passive: 'Calculated Cowardice' — Your movement speed increases by 15% when fleeing from enemies that outnumber you.]
"Calculated Cowardice? I prefer the term 'Efficient Preservation'!" Chen yelled, leaping over a rusted school bus in the parking lot.
He glanced back. The sea of pale faces was still coming, a white tide flowing over the ruins. They were fast, but they lacked Chen's "Martial Awareness" of terrain. He led them through a series of narrow alleyways and over unstable piles of rebar, watching with amusement as the clumsiest zombies tripped and created obstacles for the ones behind them.
"This is great cardio," Chen wheezed, finally reaching the roof of a nearby convenience store and kicking the ladder away. "But I think I've reached my limit for social interaction today."
He sat on the edge of the roof, dangling his legs as the horde milled about below, reaching upward with pale, useless arms.
"System," Chen said, catching his breath. "That was fun, but I'm going to need a weapon that isn't a prop rapier or sour milk. And maybe a map. Being a 'Pillar' is exhausting when you have to carry the pillar away from the scene."
[Noted. Opening System Shop: Basic Armory...]
Chen smiled, the violet spark in his eyes catching the first moonlight of the night. The world was a disaster, but at least the entertainment was free.