The inside of the mine was suffocatingly dark, a blackness so thick it felt like a shroud draped over everything. Every breath carried a heavy weight, and the silence amplified even the faintest sounds; the scuff of boots on loose gravel, the occasional distant drip of water. The winding path stretched out like a maze, twisting in unpredictable directions, and everywhere William looked, there were signs of frantic excavation: jagged scars in the rock, abandoned tools, and collapsed tunnels.
William moved cautiously through the tunnel, the oppressive atmosphere weighing down on him. The air was stale, tinged with the faint, acrid scent of sulfur and something more sinister, something like burning metal. It clawed at his lungs, making each breath feel a little heavier, a little more uneasy. The deeper he ventured, the stronger the sense of dread became, gnawing at his thoughts, as if the mine itself were whispering warnings he couldn't quite hear.
With every step, William's grip tightened around the torch he carried. The flames flickered, casting jittery light on the tunnel walls, dancing erratically as if sensing something was amiss. The firelight cast a long, wavering shadow behind him, a dark silhouette that seemed to loom larger with each passing second. The silence was unnerving. In this subterranean world, the absence of sound was its own kind of threat; he could hear his own breathing, slow and deliberate, almost as if the mine was holding its breath along with him.
Ahead, the tunnel yawned into a deeper void, an entrance to the unknown. The darkness beyond seemed impenetrable, like a living thing waiting to swallow him whole. William couldn't help but feel that this place was far from welcoming to human life. But it would be a perfect home for something darker.
Then it came.
A sharp, rasping breath echoed from deep within the mine, carrying with it a sudden rush of air that made the torch flicker wildly. The stale air stirred unnaturally, and William's heart raced. Something was moving, fast. Faster than anything human.
His instincts flared. Without a second thought, William jammed the torch into a crack in the stone wall, freeing his hands. Before he could fully draw the dagger strapped to his back, the creature was already upon him, a blur of motion in the shadows. He barely had time to react; his boot lashed out in a desperate kick, connecting with a sickening thud. The force sent the creature hurtling backward, but the recoil knocked William off balance, and he stumbled, catching himself on the rough stone wall.
Breathing hard, William steadied himself and squinted into the flickering firelight. There, just beyond the reach of the flames, lay the twisted form of his attacker.
A corpse.
No, not just any corpse. This was something else entirely. The creature's skin was an ashen gray, stretched taut over rigid, decaying muscles. Its eyes, milky white and void of life, stared blankly ahead. Parts of its body were missing, as though it had been chewed or torn apart. Yet it stood, animated by some unnatural force, drawn to the living with mindless hunger.
A demonized zombie.
The words flashed through William's mind, and he instinctively categorized the creature. It matched the descriptions from his training; stiff, decayed, but unnervingly fast and strong. Level four, maybe five. It had wandered these mines for who knew how long, a restless thing that should have found peace in death but was now cursed to roam and kill.
William's lips felt dry. He knew five players had entered this mine, but only two had escaped. That meant the monsters here, dangerous as they were, weren't unbeatable. If they were, none of the others would have made it out. William could handle this. He had to.
He exhaled slowly, pulling out his dagger, gripping it firmly in his hand. The narrow mine tunnel left little room to maneuver, but close combat was inevitable in this environment. The tunnel was only a few meters wide, the space constricting his every movement. He had upgraded his equipment well, but it wasn't going to fight the battle for him.
His muscles tensed, his body coiled like a spring, ready to strike. His eyes stayed locked on the undead creature in front of him. He could feel the tension in the air, the quiet before the storm. The zombie twitched, its head jerking toward him, and then it charged again.
William didn't wait this time. He moved in a blur, launching himself forward just as the creature did. The fight had begun.
William gripped his dagger tightly, thrusting it with fierce determination into the zombie's shoulder. The blade sank into rotting flesh, black blood oozing from the wound. His leather armor absorbed the brunt of the zombie's retaliatory strike, its filthy claws scraping uselessly against the tough material.
He yanked the dagger out, plunging it back in with a savage precision. More black ichor spilled, staining the ground beneath them. To his surprise, the creature let out a deep, guttural roar, as if it could actually feel pain. Its milky-white eyes locked onto William, and suddenly, it surged forward with a terrifying strength.
The sheer force of the attack knocked William back, his feet slipping on the rocky floor of the tunnel. He quickly realized the zombie was far stronger than him in a direct confrontation. It wasn't just about brute force, it was about strategy. He couldn't win a head-on fight, so he used the zombie's own momentum against it.
He let his body fall backward, avoiding the crushing weight of the monster. The zombie, now without its intended target, overextended itself and stumbled forward, teetering off balance. William crashed to the ground, but instead of succumbing to the fall, he bent his knees and twisted his body, using the momentum to deliver a powerful knee strike.
The blow connected with a sickening crunch, launching the zombie several meters away. It hit the ground with a thud, but even then, its stiff limbs jerked as it tried to get back on its feet. William, quick as lightning, rolled to his feet, his body moving with practiced agility.
The zombie staggered, struggling to stand. William seized the moment and sprinted forward, planting a heavy kick square into its chest. The force of the kick sent the creature hurtling into the nearby stone wall. The impact echoed through the mine, but to William's frustration, the zombie still rose, its twisted body seemingly unaffected by the damage.
The fight was far from over.
In a life-and-death struggle, hesitation was fatal. There was no room for mercy or restraint. William closed the distance once again, grabbing the zombie's arm with all his strength. Using its weight against it, he swung the creature like a hammer, smashing it into the opposite wall. The force was enough to shatter chunks of stone, sending debris scattering across the tunnel floor.
Zombies were monsters built for defense; thick skin, strong muscles, and unnatural resilience. They could take damage and keep coming, powered by an unholy force. But what they had in brute strength, they lacked in intelligence. They were mindless beasts, relying on raw power, and that was their downfall. Williamknew this all too well.
Ordinary attacks weren't enough to defeat them. Fists and kicks wouldn't pierce that tough hide. He needed precision. Gripping his dagger, Williamcircled the zombie, looking for an opening, a weakness. His breath came in ragged gasps, but his eyes remained focused. He needed to destroy the creature's core, its vital organs and, most importantly, its brain.
With a swift motion, William found his mark. He slashed his dagger across the zombie's neck in a clean, decisive cut. Dark blood spurted from the wound, and the creature's guttural growls faded into silence. The zombie staggered for a moment, its body twitching, before collapsing in a heap on the cold stone floor.
For a few tense seconds, William stood still, watching. The zombie's body remained motionless, its life or whatever unholy force animated it, finally extinguished. He let out a long breath, the adrenaline slowly fading.
"Life is stubborn," William muttered between heavy breaths, wiping the sweat from his brow. "As long as you're not dead, you're still alive."
The system notifications flashed before his eyes.
[You killed the demonized zombie. Experience +8!]
[Experience: 20/40]
Another message followed, and with it, the grim history of the mine became clearer.
[Demonized Zombies: Many years ago, an unknown disaster erupted in the depths of this mine. By the time the villagers discovered it, it was too late. Every miner had been corrupted by a dark, devilish power and turned into monstrous creatures. No one escaped the devil's curse.]
William felt a surge of strength flood through his body as another notification chimed.
[Your talent for 'killing to prove truth' has taken effect.]
[Physical value +0.1. Spirit value +0.03. Energy value +0.03.]
His body felt stronger, his movements a little sharper. The zombie's physical resilience had been impressive, but defeating it had granted William an unexpected boon. The physical feedback from the fight filled him with a grim satisfaction.
"This one had some serious strength," William muttered, catching his breath. He couldn't help but smile. The zombie had pushed him to his limits, but that only made his victory sweeter.
But then another notification appeared, one that sent a chill down his spine.
[Your talent has absorbed some extraordinary demonic characteristics.]
"Demonic characteristics?" William repeated, his brow furrowing in concern. What did that mean? Was it a blessing or a curse?
This mine held more secrets than he had anticipated, and the deeper he ventured, the darker they seemed to become.
[Demonic Characteristics: A fragment of the extraordinary essence left behind by the devil. It lingers eternally, cursing the land and transforming all living things into demonized beings. These creatures hover between life and death, cursed to roam forever. Those who possess this characteristic are bound to become demons themselves.]
[Devil's Whisper: It will seep into your flesh, reshape your spirit, and become a new demonic force. But a mere fragment is not enough to make you a full-fledged demon! You need more... more!]
[Game Notification: Demons are creatures of the abyss, powerful and malevolent. They stand in opposition to all forms of divine and royal authority.]
[Job Transfer Notification: Accumulate 200 fragments of demonic essence to unlock the task required for your transformation into a demon.]
[Demonic Essence Collected: 1/200]
William stared at the notifications, his brow furrowed as the meaning slowly sank in. He didn't fully grasp everything, but some pieces were clear enough.
"So, someone must have unearthed a demon deep within the mine... and it cursed them all. This is the so-called disaster that haunted this place." He glanced at the lifeless zombie he had just defeated. "This creature has inherited a fragment of that curse, a piece of the demon's power."
A strange feeling washed over him. What did this 'job transfer mission' mean? And when had he triggered it? He didn't recall accepting any such quest, but it seemed the game's mechanisms had activated on their own. Was it tied to his talent? Had his abilities pushed him toward this transformation earlier than expected?
"Too early," William muttered, his expression darkening. Becoming a demon didn't sound like a path he wanted to take. Demons were creatures of chaos and destruction, enemies of order and power. Sure, the boost in strength would be tempting, but at what cost?
The more he thought about it, the less appealing the idea became. He had only a vague understanding of how this world's "sequence" game worked, and while he'd been granted some insights ahead of time, the full picture was still hazy. This sudden shift unsettled him. Why did he feel like he was being pushed into something dangerous?
"Is there no way to avoid this fate?" he murmured, glancing at the "Killing to Prove the Way" talent he possessed. It had always seemed like a passive skill, quietly working in the background. He had thought it was powerful enough on its own, allowing him to grow stronger with each kill, slowly raising his attributes bit by bit.
Little by little, he had thought, he could build his strength like stacking stones to build a tower. His talent had already increased his physical attributes significantly. Without it, his fight with the zombie would have been far more brutal. But now he realized this talent had another layer. Killing to Prove the Way could absorb more than just the life force of the enemies he defeated, it could also take in their supernatural characteristics.
William still wasn't sure what these "supernatural characteristics" truly were, but based on the descriptions, they were something beyond normal abilities, something rare and powerful.
And now, one of these demonic characteristics had taken root inside him.
He could feel it, deep within his body, like a presence he couldn't shake. The devil's essence had merged with his very being, and no matter how much he might want to, there was no way to separate it. It was like consuming food, once it had been digested, there was no turning back.
Strangely enough, though, the mine didn't feel as oppressive as it had before. The air, once thick with the stench of sulfur and burning metal, no longer felt as suffocating. The lingering sense of unease, the haunting presence that had gnawed at him earlier, now seemed distant, almost comforting.
It was as if the darkness that once threatened to consume him now welcomed him instead. The flickering shadows seemed less hostile, and the cold, damp air of the mine now carried a familiar warmth. A peculiar sense of belonging washed over him, something he had never felt before.
"Is this what it feels like... to return home?" William thought, surprised by the strange comfort settling over him.
He shook his head, trying to shake off the feeling. No, he couldn't allow himself to fall into that trap. Becoming a demon might make him more powerful, but at what cost? He needed to stay in control, to keep his humanity intact.
But with the demonic essence already inside him, William knew that the path ahead would be more difficult than ever. Whether he liked it or not, the devil's power had begun to shape him and with each step deeper into the mine, that influence would only grow stronger.
[Game Tips: You've been playing for nearly eight hours. Please manage your game time responsibly and find a safe zone to log out.]
William raised an eyebrow, a strange look crossing his face as he read the message.
"Well," he muttered to himself, "there's always a way out when you reach the mountain."
He shrugged, deciding to log off for now.
---
William awoke with a start, his eyes snapping open. He jumped out of bed with an energy that surprised even him, his body moving fluidly, as if revitalized. As he stretched, his joints cracked like popping kernels, a symphony of sharp sounds that left him feeling like a new man.
"Ah... that feels good," he sighed, savoring the sensation. Each time he woke up, it felt as though his body had undergone a complete overhaul. His physical limits were growing, bit by bit, and with that came an increase in appetite.
The most peculiar change was his hunger, every morning he woke up ravenous, as though his body demanded more fuel to sustain its ever-growing strength. He knew he wasn't the only player experiencing this. Anyone who paid attention, even without leveling up, would notice that something wasn't quite right with this game.
"There's definitely something off here," William mused, reflecting on the mounting evidence.
He wasn't wrong. Mornings were the prime time for most players to log in. After all, the in-game health system refreshed during the early hours. Players with enough free time would dive into the game first thing, burning through their daily allotment before waiting for the next reset. William was no different.
No one could resist the allure of that mysterious world. The taste of power was intoxicating, and it pulled him in, day after day.
Shaking off his thoughts, William changed clothes and headed downstairs. He was famished and needed to stock up. At the local market, he ordered ten yuan's worth of crispy sesame buns and another ten for a serving of soup dumplings. Then, feeling indulgent, he splurged on a pound of cooked dog meat and five pounds of freshly boiled pork head meat. His arms full of bags, he headed back toward home but paused, remembering he was out of milk. He grabbed two cartons and lugged everything up the stairs in one trip.
Once home, William set all the food on the dining table and turned on the TV for some background noise. Without hesitation, he dove into the meal, tearing into the meat with relish. His cheeks puffed out as he stuffed his mouth full, pausing only to gulp down milk between bites. The rich, savory flavors filled him with a deep sense of satisfaction.
In the past, William had been frugal, almost painfully so. Without any family support, he had always carried a nagging sense of crisis, constantly worrying about saving for tomorrow, enduring today's hardship in hopes of better days ahead.
But what was the result? The money had piled up, but time had slipped through his fingers, and the people he cared about were gone.
Never again.
Life was too short to keep waiting for some distant future. William had vowed to live in the moment, to enjoy every bite of food, every sip of drink. Today was all that mattered. Tomorrow wasn't guaranteed.
He dug out a bottle of liquor his father had saved throughout his life. Pouring himself half a cup, he raised it to the ceiling in a quiet toast.
"Mom, Dad... wherever you are, I hope you're happy seeing me like this."
The warmth of the alcohol spread through him as he ate, taking in the news from the TV. It amused him how this world was so similar to the one he had known before, yet there were subtle differences in the details. He was, after all, a fusion of two Williams; his old self and the new one in this reality. The blend of memories and experiences made it all feel strangely natural, not jarring at all.
After finishing his meal, William moved to the living room, dropping into a series of push-ups, followed by sit-ups. Physical exercise had become a daily ritual for him, not just to stay fit but to better understand the limits of his newfound strength.
Every day he felt stronger, faster. The game may have given him these abilities, but it was up to him to master them, to test his body's boundaries.
As he worked out, his thoughts kept drifting back to the game and the unsettling realization that something was definitely wrong. But for now, William had no answers. All he could do was push forward, both in the game and in life, and keep adapting to whatever challenges came next.