Morning light filtered through a curtain of thin clouds, giving the city a pale glow. He stepped outside, sword practice done for the day. With Basic Sword Mastery in his pocket, his steps felt lighter, even though he carried no visible weapon on the crowded street. Every stride reminded him he was no longer the man stuck in a cycle of helplessness. He had chosen a path.
He grabbed a quick bite from a food stall—hot broth and noodles in a paper cup—while scanning headlines on a public display. Just routine stuff. Political disputes, celebrities launching brands, minor crime. Nothing hinting at the coming disaster. Yet.
As he walked, he noticed a change in himself. He observed people with a more clinical eye, assessing their posture, their potential reactions if trouble struck. He caught himself measuring distances between buildings, thinking how Rifts might distort them. This mental shift confirmed that his mind was gearing up, fully embracing the mission.
He decided to check the construction site Rift anchor again. Last time, the System said he needed more power or specific keys. Now he had a Skill and two stored items—maybe he could trigger another hint. Hopping a bus, he arrived near the construction site and circled around. The workers hammered away, steel beams rising against a dull sky.
Approaching the foreman again would be suspicious. Instead, he searched the perimeter for a different angle. A narrow alley led to a half-open service gate. He slipped inside quietly, making sure no one noticed. Down a ramp into the dim basement, he found the same old stone with carvings.
He touched it, heart steady, willing the System to react.
[System Notification: Rift Anchor Stability: High
Key Fragments Required: Different Type
Basic Skill Acknowledged: Minimal Influence Unlocked]
[You may etch a personal mark to influence future Rift Loot Table.
Do you wish to proceed? Y/N]
A grin tugged at his lips. Influence future loot? That was huge. He pressed "Yes" in his mind.
He felt a faint warmth flow from his fingertips. A small glowing symbol, a simple slash, appeared on the stone. It was abstract, but it represented his blade, his intent.
[Personal Mark Etched.
Loot Table influence: Minor.
Upon Rift manifestation, Chance of Bonus Sword-Related Item increased.]
Perfect. He was stacking the deck. When chaos erupted, he'd come here first and secure a weapon upgrade. He left quickly, careful not to be seen, heart thrumming with satisfaction. Every edge counted.
Back on the street, he considered what else to prepare. He had a basic skill, minor influence over one future Rift, and a safe stash. Maybe it was time to test himself physically. If he improved his fitness, maybe the System would reflect that in his attributes. Just a slight boost could matter.
He found a public park not far from his apartment, a place with a jogging track and some old metal workout bars. The future apocalypse might leave such amenities twisted and broken, but for now, they offered free training. He spent an hour doing pull-ups, push-ups, sprinting short distances. Muscles screamed in protest; he had been focusing so much on sword forms, he'd neglected raw conditioning.
As he caught his breath near a bench, he tried to open his Status screen, hoping maybe a point or two improved:
[Status]
Strength: 5
Agility: 6
Vitality: 5
... no change.
No surprise. One workout wouldn't shift System stats. Probably needed consistent effort. He could manage that. Every incremental gain helped.
On his way home, the afternoon sky dimmed. He spotted something odd at the edge of his vision—a cat perched on a lamppost, staring at him. Nothing monstrous, but its eyes gleamed too intently. He turned away, dismissing it as paranoia. Still, he remained alert. The apocalypse might be close, and even animals might start acting strangely before the first Rift cracked the world.
He passed by a newsstand. A small article caught his eye: "Unexplained animal disappearances near old warehouse district." A prickle ran down his spine. That district was one he'd scouted. In the future, low-level beasts would crawl there first. Could some monsters be slipping through tiny cracks now? If that was true, he should be extra cautious.
A thought struck him: If a minor creature appeared early, could he defeat it? He had a basic sword skill but no real sword. He carried a training blade at home—useless for actual combat. He needed a real, sharp weapon hidden somewhere. Illegal to carry around openly, but maybe he could buy a sturdy kitchen knife and stash it. Not ideal, but better than nothing until the apocalypse gave him system-sanctioned gear.
He swung by a hardware store. Inside, rows of tools gleamed under fluorescent lights. He picked a heavy-duty survival knife, something marketed to campers. Not a true sword, but sharp enough to handle small threats. He paid in cash, stuffing it into his bag. Once home, he'd store it safely. Post-apocalypse, he could carry whatever he wanted openly. Until then, low profile.
Back home, he placed the knife in a drawer. Could he store it in the System's slots instead of the bead? But he only had two slots and they were both occupied by special items. The knife was mundane. He decided to keep it in the apartment. If something happened before day one, he could grab it easily.
He spent the evening drilling sword forms again, even without changes in Progress now that he had mastered the manual. Repetition built muscle memory. After an hour, he tried something else: imagining combat scenarios, pairing footwork with evasive maneuvers. Basic Sword Mastery might be enough to handle low-level goblins or imps at the start.
As night fell, he checked the news again, scanning for oddities. The sinkholes he'd heard about last week had grown. A short clip showed government officials puzzled by geological anomalies. Perfectly normal for now, but he knew what they were—weak points in reality.
He lay down in bed, restless. He had done so much: secured items, influenced a future Rift, learned a skill. The quiet before the storm lingered, but each subtle sign hinted at looming disaster. He replayed his memories of the final battle in his past life, recalling the Calamity of the End. This time, he would stop things before it ever got that far.
In the dark silence of his room, he exhaled slowly. He was ready. Or at least, more ready than anyone else. Let the apocalypse come. He had prepared traps, mapped resources, gained skills, and set the stage for a different outcome. When dawn arrived again, he would stand one step closer to his goal.