Aiden Zayyan awoke the next morning to the insistent growl of his stomach. The hunger gnawed at him, a sharp reminder of his current predicament. With a groan, he pulled himself out of bed, his muscles stiff from the cold and his body still unfamiliar and weak. As he stumbled into the tiny kitchen, the reality of his situation hit him like a sledgehammer.
The kitchen was a picture of desolation. The fridge, a battered old relic with a door that barely closed, stood empty. The shelves were barren, save for a few packets of instant noodles and a can of beans that had long since expired. The sink was piled high with dirty dishes, a testament to the neglect this body's previous owner had shown. There wasn't a scrap of food in sight that would satisfy his gnawing hunger.
Frustration welled up inside him as he slammed the fridge door shut. This was a far cry from the life he had known as a Legendary-grade Hunter. In 2078, he had been a force to be reckoned with, feared by monsters and revered by men. Now, he was reduced to scrounging for food in a rundown apartment in a city that didn't even know his name.
As he stood there, the memories of his past life came flooding back. Among them was a ruined restaurant, one of the many remnants of the old world that had been overtaken by the apocalypse. Pizzahit. The name brought a bitter taste to his mouth, even more bitter than the hunger gnawing at him now. It had been a place where he and his comrades had once gathered, a refuge where they planned their assaults on the dungeons that plagued the world. It was also a place where they had shared moments of camaraderie—moments that were now tainted by betrayal.
Aiden's fists clenched as the memories of his betrayal resurfaced. Those who had fought by his side had turned on him in the end—the Saint, the Saintess, the Gods who had once blessed him, and the followers of the ten major guilds. They had feared his power, envied his strength, and conspired to bring him down. The thought of them left a bitter sting in his chest, a wound that had never fully healed.
But Pizzahit had also been a place of curiosity. The ruined building had once been a thriving restaurant, a place that intrigued him, though he had never had the chance to taste its offerings in the chaos of 2078. The memory of the ruined Pizzahit, with its faded sign and crumbling walls, stirred something within him—an urge to experience what he had missed.
His decision was made. He would go to Pizzahit, if only to satisfy the hunger that gnawed at him, but also to confront the ghosts of his past.
The walk to Pizzahit was short, the streets of Valora bustling with life. The city was a stark contrast to the world he had known—a world that had been reduced to ruins, where survival had been the only goal. Here, people moved with purpose, oblivious to the horrors that awaited them in less than a year.
Pizzahit stood at the corner of a busy street, its bright sign a beacon in the cold morning light. The smell of freshly baked pizza wafted through the air, drawing Aiden inside. The restaurant was warm, filled with the chatter of customers and the clatter of dishes. It was a world away from the ruins he remembered.
Aiden ordered a pizza, his mind still swirling with thoughts of the past and the uncertain future. As he waited for his food, he couldn't help but think of one of his comrades, an expert in historical data who had been crucial in their dungeon raids. This comrade had a particular interest in the events leading up to the apocalypse, often delving into ancient ruins and forgotten histories to uncover secrets that might give them an edge.
He had also been the one to mention Medigenix, a pharmaceutical company that had been shrouded in mystery. According to his comrade, Medigenix had experienced a suspicious surge in its stock prices in mid-2024, a rise that had caught the attention of many elites. But just as quickly as it had risen, the stock had plummeted overnight, leaving many investors in ruins.
It was only six months later that the first zombie outbreak occurred, a catastrophe that many suspected was linked to Medigenix's activities. Only the elites had known about the connection, but even they had been unable to prevent the ensuing chaos.
Aiden's jaw tightened as he remembered the conversations. His comrade had always been suspicious of Medigenix, but they had never had the chance to investigate further. The betrayal had come too soon, cutting short their plans and leaving Aiden to die alone in the Last Dungeon.
But now, he had a chance to do what they couldn't. As he browsed his phone, searching for any information he could find on Medigenix, he came across a few scattered reports—nothing concrete, but enough to confirm that the company was still active, still thriving in 2024. The pieces of the puzzle were falling into place.
The only way to capitalize on this knowledge would be to buy into Medigenix's stock just before it surged and then sell before the inevitable crash. But to do that, he needed capital—a significant amount if he wanted to make a difference. And he had only one month before the events started to unfold.
As Aiden's eyes drifted toward the window, he noticed a delivery rider parking his bike outside the restaurant. The rider wore the bright uniform of Pizzahit, his face hidden behind a helmet as he checked his phone for the next delivery. Aiden's mind clicked into place. A delivery job—something that would pay quickly, something he could do while still having time to plan his next steps.
He finished his pizza, wiped his hands, and stood up. Approaching the counter, he asked to speak with the manager. A middle-aged man with a weary expression soon appeared, his eyes sizing up Aiden with a mix of curiosity and skepticism.
"I'd like to apply for a job," Aiden said, his voice steady.
The manager raised an eyebrow. "You looking for kitchen work or deliveries?"
"Deliveries," Aiden replied, his tone firm. "I can start immediately."
The manager hesitated, then shrugged. "We could use the help. You'll start tomorrow. Be here by 10 a.m. sharp. Uniforms and instructions are in the back."
Aiden nodded. "I'll be here."
With that settled, Aiden left the restaurant, the cold night air hitting him as he walked back to his apartment. His thoughts were already on the days ahead. For the next month, he would work, saving every penny he earned. When the time came, he would invest in Medigenix, ensuring that he had the resources he needed for the battles to come.
Back in his dingy room, Aiden sat down at the worn table once more. The flickering light of the single bulb cast long shadows on the walls as he began to plan. He outlined his schedule for the next month, accounting for every hour he would spend working, training, and preparing. He listed the supplies he would need, the places he would scout, and the allies he might seek out—if any still existed in this timeline.
But most importantly, he wrote down his goals: to gather wealth, to build his strength, and to prepare for the storm that was coming. The world would soon know chaos like never before, and Aiden Zayyan would be ready.