He woke to an uneasy stillness. The city beyond his window remained as always—car horns, morning chatter—but something felt off. He couldn't name it, just a sensation that the air itself held its breath. He dressed quickly, checking the news for signs. Nothing substantial—just the usual mundane cycle.
But he trusted his instincts. The apocalypse was near, and cracks would start to show. Perhaps minor anomalies had begun. Yesterday's article about disappearing animals hovered in his mind. He decided to visit that warehouse district again, the one he'd scouted early on. If even a tiny creature from the future ecosystem slipped through, he wanted to confirm it.
He tucked a simple hoodie on, slipped out the door. He left the survival knife behind—carrying it in public might draw attention. If trouble arose, he'd rely on skill and improvisation. He gritted his teeth. Soon, he wouldn't have to hide. Soon, Classes and Skills would become normal, and no one would blink at a blade. But that time wasn't yet.
The warehouse district lay in the city's old industrial quarter. Empty lots, rusted fences, a few active storage units. He reached it near midmorning, choosing a quiet route around the back of a shuttered building. Peeking around a corner, he saw little activity—a lone cat sniffing at debris, some birds perched on rafters. Nothing monstrous.
Yet he refused to leave empty-handed. He slipped between two old warehouses where the pavement cracked and weeds sprouted. The silence felt heavier here. He slowed his steps, ears straining. A distant scraping sound—metal on stone—pricked his nerves.
He followed the noise, careful as a hunter. Turning a corner, he spotted something that didn't belong: a small reptilian shape, about the size of a large dog, hunched over a pile of old scrap metal. Its skin had a dull, gray-green hue, and its limbs ended in wicked little claws. He recognized it immediately: a Lesser Scavenger Lizard, a weak monster that would become common after the apocalypse. But what was it doing here now, before any Rifts officially opened?
The creature sniffed the air, restless. He pressed himself flat against the warehouse wall, heart pounding. This was no hallucination. The apocalypse had begun to leak through in subtle ways. If he could dispatch this beast quietly, he'd confirm everything.
He considered going back for the knife—no, it might vanish by then. He had Basic Sword Mastery, but no real sword. Just his bare hands and cunning. The monster's stats were low-level in the future. He could handle it if careful.
Scanning the area, he noticed a length of sturdy rebar on the ground. He picked it up slowly. Heavy and crude, but better than nothing. Gripping it, he stepped out from behind the corner.
The lizard spotted him instantly, hissing, back arching. No System messages yet—he guessed the full integration wasn't online, so no fancy battle prompts. He'd have to rely on memory and skill.
He slid one foot forward, mimicking a ready stance from the sword manual, adjusting for the rebar's weight. The lizard charged, claws scraping the pavement. He dodged to the side, heart steady, letting instinct guide him. Its tail whipped past, slashing at empty air.
He lunged in, swinging the rebar like a blade. The manual's lessons helped even with this makeshift weapon. He aimed for the creature's flank. A solid hit connected with a dull thud. The lizard screeched, stumbling. Good—he could hurt it.
It spun, snapping its jaws. He retreated, circling. Another feint, then a follow-up strike to its foreleg. The beast limped now, breath ragged. It leapt unexpectedly, trying to tackle him. He dropped low, bracing the rebar upward like a spear. The monster's own momentum did the rest—impaling itself on the metal's blunt end, but with enough force to break skin. It shrieked, flailed, and fell still, blood pooling dark and viscous.
He stood over the corpse, chest heaving. He'd killed a monster before the official apocalypse started. The world hadn't exploded. No System announcements praised his victory. Just silence. But he felt a surge of grim pride—proof that he was no longer just waiting. He was ready now, and he could win even without System help.
He checked the surroundings. No one had seen. The monster's corpse was a problem. If found, questions would arise—reports of a strange creature might hasten suspicion. He had no good way to hide it. Maybe he could drag it behind debris. With effort, he pulled the carcass into a shady nook behind stacked pallets. It wouldn't remain hidden forever, but maybe it'd buy time.
Before leaving, he examined the body briefly. It had no drops or loot—makes sense, the System's rules weren't fully active. He frowned. So no early freebies. Still, the fight gave him valuable experience. His sword skill applied intuitively, guiding him even with a rebar. He'd done something right.
As he walked away, he wondered if more monsters would appear prematurely. If so, the city would soon face odd incidents. He needed to be careful not to reveal himself too soon. He had too many advantages to squander on early heroics. Let the authorities puzzle over animal attacks. He'd remain a phantom, preparing quietly.
Back in his apartment, he washed his hands and stared at himself in the bathroom mirror. No visible wounds, just sweat and dust. He'd taken a life—albeit a monstrous one—before the apocalypse. It felt odd. In his past life, killing such beasts was routine. Now, it was a secret event in a calm world. He shook off the discomfort. Better to be a predator than prey.
He sat at his desk and checked the System again. His skill remained the same. No new features unlocked by this kill. Fine. He didn't rely on lucky breaks. He'd keep forging ahead, training and preparing.
The afternoon passed quietly. He drilled some more with the training sword, muscle memory flowing smoother than ever. The kill bolstered his confidence. When the first official Rift opened, he'd be one of the few ready to react instantly.
By evening, he relaxed, scanning the local news online. No mention of strange reptiles. Only a small blurb: "Authorities investigate odd animal remains found near industrial zone." Good—just as predicted, the world hadn't connected the dots yet. He had more time.
He closed his laptop and paced the room. So far, so good. He had gear, items, skill, and now combat experience. He influenced a future Rift's loot. The apocalypse hovered on the horizon, and he was poised to capitalize on the chaos.
He placed the training sword in the corner, a slight smile on his lips. Let the world sleep peacefully this last night. He was done waiting passively. Everything was under control—or as much as it could be.
In darkness, he lay down, mind racing with strategies. When dawn came again, he'd continue searching for opportunities, improving himself step by step. And when the cracks finally split the sky and monsters flooded in, he'd meet them head-on, stronger and smarter than anyone else.