Joon-woo guided Mi-sun and Ha-jin through the broken streets, their footsteps muffled by dust and debris. The morning sun beat down with unnatural intensity, as if reality's new rules twisted even the weather. Cries and snarls drifted on the wind, distant fights marking the city's new rhythm. He held the Lesser Blade of Dawn at his side, alert for ambushes, while his two allies stuck close, nervous but determined.
He had a destination in mind: an old public library not far from here, tucked between office buildings. In his previous life's memories, that library's basement eventually became a quiet Rift zone rumored to spawn Skill Tomes—low-level but precious. Few people knew it early on. If he reached it now, he might claim a Skill Tome uncontested, further boosting his arsenal.
They rounded a corner, finding the library's facade: tall glass windows, now spider-webbed with cracks, and a sign reading "City Central Library" in chipped gold letters. The front doors were ajar, one half torn off the hinges. Inside, dark shelves and scattered books would make for plenty of hiding spots.
He halted them behind a trash bin across the street. "Library ahead," he whispered. "We aim for the basement. Rumor has it, certain Rifts form there, creating special Skill Books. With luck, one might have spawned already."
Mi-sun's eyes sparkled at the mention of Skill Books. Ha-jin swallowed, "Skill Books… that's what we need. Something better than swinging this mop handle."
Joon-woo nodded. "Expect resistance. Rifts attract monsters. This won't be easy."
They agreed, and he led them across the street. Broken glass crunched underfoot as they entered the lobby—once a quiet place of study, now a ruin of toppled shelves and scattered pages. The smell of damp paper and something rotting hit their noses. Ha-jin winced, covering his mouth. Mi-sun stepped carefully to avoid torn novels and smashed displays.
Joon-woo raised a hand, signaling them to halt. He listened: faint skittering above, maybe a small creature on an upper floor. Whispers of wind through a broken window. No immediate roar or growl.
He moved forward, scanning for stairs leading down. The library's main hall stretched out with reading tables overturned. In the center, a cracked marble desk lay splattered with dark stains. No corpses visible, just dried fluids. He imagined monsters passed through earlier, feasting or fighting.
Mi-sun whispered, "Basement entrance… is it behind the info desk?"
He recalled from memory: a door behind the main desk, leading to staff-only areas and archives downstairs. "Yes," he said softly. "Follow me. Quiet."
They crept around the desk. Ha-jin bumped a chair leg, making it scrape, and they froze. Joon-woo's heart jumped. Any loud sound might attract hidden foes. After a tense moment of silence, no monsters appeared. He continued, stepping over a broken lamp.
Behind the desk, they found a door marked "Staff Only." Locked. He tried the handle—jammed. He clenched his jaw. No time for subtlety. He pressed his shoulder into it. The doorframe was old wood. A solid push, and the lock splintered. The noise echoed, but he had no choice.
They entered a narrow corridor with dim emergency lights flickering. At the end, a stairwell led down to the basement. Perfect.
As they approached the stairwell, a low hiss emerged from below. He raised his sword, signaling them to hold. Something waited in the darkness. He peered down, seeing only shadows. The hiss repeated, guttural and predatory.
He decided to draw the creature out. "Stay behind me," he whispered. He stepped down a few steps, sword poised. A shape lunged from the dark—a lean, wolf-like beast with four glowing eyes arranged in a diamond pattern. An Abyss Hound, rare for day one but not impossible. It snapped at his ankles. He jumped back, slashing downward. The blade spark caught one of its shoulders. The hound yelped, scrambling on the stairs.
Mi-sun and Ha-jin hovered at the top, nervous. He needed their help—if the creature tried to rush past him, they could poke it. "Hold position," he hissed.
The hound snarled, claws scraping concrete. It leapt up two steps, jaws open. He met it with a swift Parry, blade angled to deflect its strike. A shimmer of Skill energy softened the impact. The hound tumbled back, off-balance. Joon-woo pursued, stepping down two stairs to press the advantage. He invoked Quick Slash, the enhanced speed letting him cut the hound's flank before it could recover.
The beast screeched, blood splattering the wall. It tried to retreat into darkness, but he followed mercilessly, delivering a final thrust into its ribcage. The hound collapsed with a strangled gasp. He caught his breath. Another kill, another step forward.
He waved Mi-sun and Ha-jin down. They descended, eyes wide at the strange corpse. "Four eyes… what kind of monster is that?" Ha-jin asked, voice trembling slightly.
"An Abyss Hound," Joon-woo said flatly. "A tougher predator. We're encountering stronger monsters, meaning this place might indeed hold valuable items. Monsters cluster around resources."
Mi-sun nodded, swallowing. "If there's something down here worth defending, then we must be close to that Rift you mentioned."
He led them deeper, past the hound's corpse. The stairwell ended at a heavy metal door. Half open, revealing a large basement archive room lined with metal shelves and old file cabinets. The air was musty, thick with a faint magical hum he'd learned to sense: the presence of a Rift inside.
They stepped in, blade ready, eyes scanning. The archive room was large but cluttered. At the far side, a faint glow behind a row of cabinets hinted at a Rift forming quietly. The place felt oddly still—no more hisses or growls.
As they approached, he saw it: a shimmering oval Rift floating a meter above the ground, barely stable. Beneath it lay a wooden pedestal that looked new compared to the dusty surroundings. On that pedestal: a small leather-bound book emitting a faint, pale light.
Joon-woo's heart leapt. A Skill Tome. He recognized the subtle luminescence. This was what he came for.
He motioned Mi-sun and Ha-jin to guard the perimeter while he approached the pedestal. They fanned out, weapons raised, nervous but obedient. He crept closer to the Rift and the Tome. Closer inspection showed runes etched on the pedestal's sides—System-made, no doubt.
Just as he reached out to grab the Tome, a low moan echoed through the room. He spun, sword raised. A tall, skeletal figure emerged from behind a stack of fallen shelves: a Wraithbound Archivist, if he recalled correctly, a rare monster that spawned near knowledge-based loot. Wraithlike, draped in tattered robes, it carried a ghostly quill that glowed with eerie runes. This creature might cast minor spells or curses. Dangerous, but he'd come too far to back down.
He called out softly, "Mi-sun, Ha-jin—flank it. I'll engage head-on. Watch for projectiles or spells."
They nodded, circling wide. The Archivist hissed, hollow eye-sockets flaring with ghostly light. It raised its quill, and a shard of spectral energy shot from the tip, aimed at Joon-woo's chest. He barely dodged, the shard whistling past his shoulder. Magic—he hadn't faced a caster yet.
He advanced, keeping low, sword ready. Another shard formed at the quill's tip. This time he invoked Parry, raising his blade. The shard struck a shimmering aura, deflected into a shelf, exploding old papers into confetti. Good, Skills worked against magic too.
He lunged forward, swinging at the Archivist's torso. His blade met resistance, as if cutting through dense fog. The creature shrieked, flickering partly intangible. He cursed softly—he might need to strike the head or heart-like core. Mi-sun jabbed from the left, her spear passing through the creature's arm. It shrieked again, flailing to avoid her. Ha-jin swung his mop handle from the right, managing to distract it.
Its intangible nature posed a problem. He needed a direct hit on something solid. The Archivist raised its quill again, chanting softly. This looked like a bigger spell. He rushed forward, no time to wait for a perfect angle. He struck at its head, aiming where eyes would be. The blade passed through mist, but at the last fraction, he felt a slight tug—like hitting something real inside the phantom form. The creature wailed, form flickering wildly.
Encouraged, he struck again and again, rapid short cuts while it struggled. Each hit made it flicker more. Finally, a well-placed thrust into the center of its chest elicited a horrid scream, and the wraithlike form collapsed into fading sparks of light. The quill clattered to the floor and dissolved into ethereal dust.
He panted, wiping sweat from his brow. Mi-sun and Ha-jin approached, eyes shining with disbelief. They had defeated a spellcasting monster with teamwork and quick thinking.
"Good work," he said, voice calm. Inside, he felt relieved—this was the toughest encounter yet, a foe with intangible defenses and ranged attacks.
They nodded, and he finally turned to the Tome. He plucked it from the pedestal. Its cover bore runes, and the System pinged:
[You have acquired: Skill Tome – 'Blade Echo (Basic)]
*[Learn this Skill? Y/N]
Blade Echo, a new Skill. He grinned inwardly. Another tool to strengthen his combat style. He pressed yes mentally.
[Skill Learned: Blade Echo (Basic) – Temporarily duplicates a sword strike, causing a second delayed hit shortly after the first. Stacks with Basic Sword Mastery for improved synergy.]
Perfect. He now had a small arsenal of Skills: Quick Slash for speed, Parry for defense, Blade Echo for layered attacks. Together, these Skills would let him handle more complex fights.
Mi-sun and Ha-jin stared at him curiously. "Did you get it?" Mi-sun asked softly.
He nodded, slipping the Tome into his pack just in case he could trade it later or recheck it. "A new Skill. It'll help us fight stronger monsters."
Their faces lit with hope. "That's great," Ha-jin said. "More Skills mean we stand a better chance."
He turned, scanning the basement one last time. No more loot visible, no second Tome. That's fine. One Skill Tome on day two of the apocalypse was a huge success. Now he had herbs, Skills, allies, and steadily growing power.
"Let's move," he said. "We've lingered too long. More monsters could sense this Rift's presence."
They followed him out, returning to the stairwell. He led them swiftly up and out of the library, stepping into the daylight. The city remained broken, monstrous silhouettes still prowling, but he walked with confidence. Each victory, each artifact, each Skill forged him into a blade of his own making.
As they headed off to seek more opportunities, Mi-sun and Ha-jin kept pace more comfortably. They had proven themselves useful, and he wouldn't discard them just yet. With Blade Echo newly learned, he looked forward to testing it on new foes. The apocalypse might be terrifying, but for Joon-woo, it was also a field of potential, waiting for him to reap power and shape his destiny.