Shhhhhhh.

This dude was taking forever. We’d been waiting outside for 15 straight minutes, guns ready, and he still hadn’t come out. Part of me couldn’t help but wonder—did he eat something that gave him post-apocalyptic diarrhea? Like, what the hell did he even find to eat in this ruined city? Expired canned beans? Zombie jerky?

Shhhhh.

At this point, I wasn’t sure if he was still alive in there or if he’d just fallen in and drowned.

“He’s already dead,” I whispered, trying to joke, but Naomi immediately motioned for me to shut up.

Then the door creaked open, and the smell hit us overwhelmingly. Holy shit, I might’ve been right—did he actually eat expired canned beans? The warm, foul air drifted out, making my stomach churn a bit, but we kept our guns aimed at him.

The guy froze, wide-eyed, his hands raising high up in the air. “Oi!” he shouted, clearly startled. “I’m not an enemy!” He quickly dropped his katana and gun onto the floor.

Now that he was standing in front of me, I could see him more clearly. His red hair was really red, like fire-engine red, and he was tall—probably six feet or just shy of it. Definitely taller than me or Naomi who is probably at 5'4.

“Don’t move,” Naomi said firmly.

Her words triggered a weird sense of déjà vu. Oh yeah, this had happened earlier. I couldn’t help but wonder what this guy was going to do now. He was just standing there, hands raised, no weapon in reach. If I were in his position, I’d probably do the exact same thing—no way out, no tricks to pull, and two guns pointed at me? Trying anything would be a death wish.

“Relax. I’m not even moving... just don’t shoot.” he said, his tone steady.

What struck me was how calm he looked. My gut told me this guy was no stranger to having guns aimed at him. He didn’t flinch, didn’t sweat—just stood there like it was another Tuesday. When Naomi pointed a gun at me earlier, I felt my heart pounding, my chest tightening with panic. Sure, I’d think of something, but freezing wasn’t an option. This guy, though? He was cool, like he’d been through this kind of situation a hundred times before.

"Are you testers?" He said.

I kept the gun aimed at him while Naomi handled the talking.

“Yes, and I assume you’re the same,” she said, her voice sharp, steady.

The man nodded, a faint smile tugging at his lips before it faded. “You’re right,” he said.

I stayed quiet. This was my first time seeing someone held at gunpoint like this. It was surreal, like watching a scene out of a movie—but way more intense when it wasn’t me on the receiving end.

“Why don’t we—”

“Shut up and drop to the ground,” Naomi cut him off, shoving her gun closer to his face. She kicked his katana and pistol hard, sending them clattering against the wall with a sharp clink. The sound echoed in the empty room.

The guy didn’t flinch. Calm as ever, he slowly knelt, bowing his head.

“Hey,” I said, breaking my silence. I looked down at him, curious. “Did you just get here? Like, into the city?”

He hesitated, then raised his head slightly. “No,” he said, short and straight. No sign he was lying.

Naomi didn’t waste a second. “How long have you been here?”

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“Long enough,” he replied, just as calm, just as quick.

I glanced at Naomi. She was thinking the same thing I was. His answer didn’t sit right. Long enough? What the hell did that mean? We’d only entered this game yesterday. How could he have been here longer?

“Long enough?” Naomi repeated, her tone skeptical.

The man nodded, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “Yup. They didn’t tell you?”

“Tell us what?” Naomi snapped, her patience wearing thin.

“How many of you are there this time?” he asked, his voice picking up energy.

“What are you talking about?” Naomi said, narrowing her eyes. “Slow down. Who didn’t tell us what?”

I couldn’t follow him either. His words were vague, his vibe cryptic, and it was pissing me off.

“You’re aware you’re testers, right?” he said, his tone slow and deliberate now.

Testers?

He smirked again. “You didn’t know? The developers have been hiring testers since last year.”

What the hell? It took me a while to process what he just said. The developers had been hiring people for a year? That meant there were players who’d been in this game way longer than us. Players who are far more experienced and this man in front of us was one of them.

And if he’s still alive after being a tester since last year, that could only mean one thing—he’s an experienced survivor.

The thought hit me hard. This guy wasn’t just some random player fumbling his way through the game. He’d been here long enough to figure things out, long enough to adapt, and most importantly, long enough to survive.

Naomi’s grip on the gun tightened, her jaw clenched. I could feel the shift in the air. Earlier, it felt like we’d cornered another player, but now? Now it felt like we were the ones being hunted.

“What are you planning to do with me now?” he asked, his tone casual, almost bored. “I don’t waste my time killing newbies, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

If he was telling the truth, then his experience made him dangerous in more ways than one. A year in this game meant he was adaptable, resourceful, and probably had a stash of loot we couldn’t even imagine. It also meant he’d built connections—maybe even a crew.

I took a step closer, keeping my gun steady. “And how can we be sure you’re not lying? That you won’t just kill us the second we drop our guard?”

He smirked, but there was a seriousness in his eyes. “You think I’d waste my time on you? Look, I go after the big players—the ones worth the points. Killing newbies like you? Sure, it has its perks, but it’s not my style. You’re not even worth the energy.”

He was blunt, but he wasn’t wrong. Killing us wouldn’t be much of an achievement, especially since we hadn’t even racked up any points yet. Still, his confidence put me on edge.

I glanced at Naomi. She was ready to pull the trigger, her eyes locked on him. I could feel the tension in the room growing thicker by the second.

“We’ll let you go,” I said finally, my voice steady.

Naomi shot me a sharp look, clearly questioning my decision.

He raised an eyebrow, his smirk returning. “Smart move.”

“But on one condition,” I added.

His smirk faltered. “And what’s that?”

“You give us something in return.”

He paused, considering my words. Being an experienced player, he had to have more loot than us. But loot wasn’t what I wanted most. Information—valuable intel about this world—was the real prize. I just realised that the difference between life and death often lies in knowing what others don’t. So if we knew something the other don't we can avoid those we must avoid in order to survive in the long run.

“What if I give you some info and some loot?” he offered, his voice laced with amusement.

I blinked. “You’re awfully generous.”

“Call it a goodwill gesture,” he said with a shrug.

I exchanged a glance with Naomi, then nodded. “Fine. Deal.”

[GAME STARTING IN 25 MINUTES]

The timer flashed on the screen. We didn’t have much time. In 25 minutes, the real chaos would begin. Players would turn on each other, and the zombies—already a threat—would swarm in even greater numbers.

“We better make this quick,” I said, my voice low.

The man smirked again. “Don’t worry. I’ll make it worth your time.”

He raised his head and tossed something toward us. "Here," he said casually.

It landed with a dull clink at our feet—a military radio. A rare find and pretty damn useful, especially in a world like this. It could give us a huge edge in staying connected, even when apart.

"What? Don’t want it?" he asked, a teasing smirk tugging at his lips. "Or would you rather have guns?"

Naomi didn’t even hesitate. "I prefer guns," she said, her voice firm. "Radios are only good within a limited range, so it’s not that valuable for us. Besides, sticking together is way better than splitting up and needing to communicate."

She had a point. The radio was great if you planned to go solo, but it wasn’t exactly ideal for a duo.

He turned to me, raising an eyebrow. "What about you?"

I shrugged. "What choice do I have? If she’s picking guns, then this radio’s useless to me. So yeah, I’m going with guns also."

He chuckled like he’d expected that answer. Then, with a quick flick of his wrist, he pulled two items from his inventory—a golden pistol and a silver pistol. Both gleamed like they belonged in a collector’s case, not a wasteland.

"Here," he said, holding them out. "These are special. Go ahead, take your pick."

Naomi and I each reached out and grabbed one. The moment I held it, a small info screen popped up:

[GOLDEN PISTOL] (SKIN)

• +Precision

• +Ammo Capacity

• +Power

• +Adaptable

[SILVER PISTOL]

• +Precision

• +Power

• +Durability

• +Ammo Capacity

"For the information," he began, leaning back a bit, "I’ll give you one thing that’ll actually help you in the long run. You know I’m one of last year’s testers, right? Well, there are 50 more like me. We’re called the Black Constellation. But here’s the kicker—out of those, there are 10 players who are in the top tier. The strongest in the game."

"So, in other words, we’re screwed?" I said, half-joking, half-dead serious.

He chuckled, a low, almost mocking sound. "Not really. You just need to steer clear of them in the early game. I know you’re not dumb enough to pick a fight with them right now. Even I, as one of the 50, don’t bother with newbies. I prefer a real challenge."

"Tell us more," Naomi cut in, her voice sharp and demanding.

He nodded slowly, like he was deciding how much to share. "Alright. Here’s the deal: I’m just passing through this city, but I bet you didn’t know someone’s already running it."

I exchanged a quick glance with Naomi. That was news to us. Suddenly, the military tank we’d seen earlier clicked into place.

"There are three people leading this city," he continued. "They loot together, stack points together, and they’re ruthless as hell. I hate their guts. They’ll kill anyone—doesn’t matter if you’re the weakest of the weak. That’s why you need to avoid them at all costs."

It doesn't sound like he was concerned but rather he said it out of mercy.