"What’s going on?"
"The electricity’s out."
"My phone, everything’s dead!"
Chaos spread instantly as people felt the Game Master’s changes take hold. Every device dependent on power failed at once. The world plunged into a global blackout—even refrigerators and freezers ground to a halt.
Intelligent people, quicker than the rest, understood the implications immediately. ’Without refrigeration, the food wouldn’t last much longer,’ they thought, frowning.
"Supplies wouldn’t last much," one person roared. "We need to find a portal."
"It’s the only way to survive," another chimed in.
"Don’t forget the store is unlocked if we reach it," a middle-aged woman hissed. Everyone’s eyes brightened at her words.
Back in his private chamber, the Game Master smiled to himself. ’Good. Everything’s finally heated.’ He glanced across his wall of holograms, grinning. "Now, let’s check in on the high school boy with hero dreams." He waved his arm, enlarging one screen and pushing the others aside.
The feed showed a high school boy of average appearance, black hair, and deep white eyes—that drew focus and attracted everyone’s attention—sitting on a large bed. ’William. Can you save everyone this time?’ the Game Master mused, as Felisia refilled his teacup.
William closed his eyes, breathing deeply. ’I’ve lost the advantage of my memories.’ He clenched his fists, frowning. ’My entire past life—nothing left of it to use but combat skill and experience.’
"Ahh!" He screamed, unable to hold it in, slamming his fist into the wooden wall beside the bed. Bang!His knuckles split, blood welling as a crack spread through the wood.
He exhaled, steadying himself. ’It’s fine. I managed last time with nothing at all. This time, at least, I have my combat skills and experience.’ He wiped the blood from his knuckles onto his shirt and stood up. He slapped both cheeks lightly, forcing himself to calm down. ’I can do this. I’ll save as many as I can.’
He thought of everyone he’d lost—friends, allies, all gone before his eyes in his last life. A purple-haired young woman flashed through his memory, her body pierced through the abdomen by a spider’s spike. ’Alissa. I couldn’t save you last time.’ She had taken her last breath in his own arms, muttering, "Survive, William, you can do it." His eyes burned with resolve. ’Not this time.’ This time, he would rather die than watch her fall again.
Another face surfaced—a handsome man with a wide grin. ’Game Master.’ William scowled. ’I’ll wipe that smile off your face myself.’
He dashed out of his room and into a storage room piled with old belongings. At the back stood two slightly curved katanas, sheathed in white-and-blue scabbards. He drew them, one in each hand, settling into a battle stance—right arm raised fully, left arm bent in front of his chest, front left knee bent low.
Whoosh! Slice!
He spun his swords, swinging with exceptional skill. And he crossed both blades in an X-shaped strike.
Within moments, his breathing turned ragged, sweat beading on his brow. ’Damn. It’s been a while.’ He smiled bitterly. "Over a year since I quit the kendo club." Despite regressing with his memories intact, his body wasn’t at its old peak. He patted his slightly soft belly. ’I’ll work with what I have.’ He adjusted his grip on the katana.
He secured both katanas to his left hip with a worn leather belt.
He dashed outside. ’I need to reach the portal within the hour.’ Grabbing only a water bottle from the living room, he left everything else behind, not even taking food.
Outside, his street had already dissolved into chaos—people screaming, grappling over food, trolleys, even toilet paper, on the verge of an all-out brawl. "It’s mine! I brought it!"
A man snarled, kicking an elderly woman away from her cart. "Doesn’t matter who brought it—it’s mine now. The world’s ended."
Two women nearby abandoned their bags and ran in opposite directions.
William sighed. ’In my last life, I tried reasoning with them here. It didn’t work—they beat me down and killed a few people for it.’
"This time, no one loses their life in front of me." He drew one katana, its blade gleaming cold as it left the scabbard, and dashed toward the man who’d just kicked the old woman aside.
"What are you?" The man opened his mouth wide as he noticed William rushing toward him with a sharp blade in hand.
Slash! His blade sliced clean—shaving the man bald on top.
"Ahh!" The man screamed, collapsing to his knees, wetting himself in shock, trembling hands feeling his scalp. Relief washed over him once he realized his hands held no blood. People took a relieved breath.
He scrambled up, snarling, "You brat, what do you think you’re doing?" William swung again—whoosh!—the man felt a chill graze his ear, touching it to find it untouched. His arm shook as he stammered, "What... what are you doing?"
"I won’t miss next time," William said coldly, sheathing his katana. He raised his voice. "Everyone—stop."
One by one, the arguments around him died away until only William’s voice remained, as he pointed his katana at them, even if they moved their mouth even a bit.
The crowd fell silent, save for a few muttering, "Who cares about that brat," as they dragged their trolleys aside.
A few people were already rushing out of the street, empty-handed, aiming for the portal. William smiled. ’Good. At least a few are intelligent.’ They knew what was best for them.
William turned toward four muscular men with varying heights in prison uniforms in the group, who were still stealing from others. He frowned. "You escaped custody."
"Hahha." They laughed. The biggest of them stepped forward, "The world’s ending, kid. Prison? You think cops can stop us now?"
"Are they alive? The officers?" William asked, praying for their safety.
The tall man kicked a trolley aside, grinning widely. Not a trace of guilt appeared on any of their faces as they replied, "We killed them all."
William’s grip tightened around his katana handle. "Why? You could’ve just escaped. Why kill them?"
"Why?" another thug sneered, stepping forward, fists clenching. "That toothless guard had caught me time and again, threw me back in a cell personally—I remember him well."
"Fine. Him. What about the others?" William pressed.
The third man burst into laughter. "Others? Let’s just say—we avenged every prisoner who ever suffered in there." They crossed their arms over their chests.
"How many were there? How many of you escaped, how many died?" William roared, clenching his katana handle.
"You think we owe you answers, brat?" The lead man pulled a handgun, aiming it square at William’s chest.
William rubbed his forehead, tongue clicking in irritation. "I asked nicely." He had hoped words might still be enough. However, he noticed no change on the thugs’ faces.
His eyes flashed crimson. "You’ll pay for what you did." He drew both katanas, pointing them loosely toward the ground, standing without any formal stance. "Admit your crimes and pay for it; by helping others."
The thugs only shook their heads in disgust, tears of laughter in their eyes.
Click!The leader pulled the trigger.
"Watch out!" the crowd screamed. Silence fell. Everyone froze.
Nothing happened. The man stared at the gun, turning it over, inspecting it from every angle before aiming again. Click! Click!Nothing.
"What’s going on, boss?" one of his men asked from behind.
He hurled the gun to the ground. "Guns don’t work anymore." Everyone understood. The man stared at the useless pistol for another second before letting it slip from his fingers. As the thugs stood there, doubt creeping into their expressions, William closed the distance in an instant.
He turned his katana flat, using it like a bat, landing a solid blow across the lead man’s neck. His eyes rolled back, and he dropped, unconscious. Thud!
The remaining three staggered back. "Boss? One hit?" they stammered, eyes wide with disbelief.
"What the hell are you?" They uttered. They couldn’t believe that their boss was taken down in one hit.