It had been a week since the auction, and I was so disappointed with it that I almost fell asleep during the event.I thought it would be exciting to see people with bloodshot eyes fighting over items, driving up prices endlessly like crazed lunatics. But no—everything, felt planned out in advance. Only a few items sparked real bidding wars, with multiple people competing.

At least my potion sold for 70 silver, which was higher than my estimate of 60 silver. From what I could tell, some people had ugly expressions when my potion came up, likely pressured into not bidding for it.

Still, by consistently selling my potions to the auction house every day, I managed to earn 90 gold and 40 silver this week. Why so little? An accident occurred midway through the auction, and some of my potions were damaged and couldn’t be sold. I received compensation of 12 gold, but it was much less than what I would have earned had the potions been sold properly. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much I could do the auction house was the only reliable channel I had for selling potions.

Lately, however, I’ve noticed people tailing me as I return home. I’ve been targeted.With no other choice, I started taking long, winding routes around the city until I finally lost them. But I know this won’t last. More people will come for me. They’ll try to figure out who’s backing me, and once they realize I have no backer, they’ll strike—likely to steal my potions or coerce me into working for them.

But I have zero interest in working under someone else. They’d take the lion’s share of my work while leaving me with mere scraps.

I had no choice but to plan my escape. Trouble was already at my heels after just one week.

After brewing my final batch of potions for the auction house, I took out my map and pondered where I should go next. I stood there, hand on my chin, deep in thought.

That’s when I remembered Skylit City.Wasn’t it ruined? There wouldn’t be many people there, not with zombies infesting the place. It could be the perfect opportunity to scavenge for loot.

I hesitated, though. The memory of that giant zombie still haunted me. What if there was another one? The chances were small, but I couldn’t dismiss the possibility.

That said, I was much stronger now than I had been before. If another giant zombie appeared, I was confident I could face it. My main goal, however, was to search for things left behind in the abandoned city.

Also, the jungle was nearby.

I couldn’t shake the thought of that octopus. It had to be an Elite monster, but something about it told me it was far stronger than a typical Elite. Then there were the Fishmen from the sea—what was their deal with taking the magic cannons?

I didn’t have time to dwell on it, though. My thoughts were interrupted by a sudden knock at the door.

I froze.

I didn’t have any friends or acquaintances in the city, and I hadn’t told the auction house about my latest batch of potions.

Who could it be?

I wasn’t about to check. Whoever it was could knock all they wanted—I wasn’t answering. They could go away.

But the knocking didn’t stop—it became louder and more irritated.

I quickly poured the potions into the grass behind my house. I knew I couldn’t escape with them, and I certainly didn’t want anyone else to benefit from my hard work.

“Open the door already! We know you’re inside! We saw you coming home! Either open up, or we’ll break it down!” a loud, old voice barked from outside.

I didn’t care. Without hesitation, I hopped over my neighbor’s fence and kept going, repeating the process until I emerged onto a street. People stared at me like I was a thief, but I ignored their glances and darted straight to a crowded area.

It wasn’t that I was afraid of those men—I simply didn’t want to waste my time fighting them. What would I gain from fighting? Nothing. I’d only lose more.

‘You could show them your strength so they won’t dare attack you again!’

Really? Have you ever seen someone who’d rather drag others down just because they couldn’t rise themselves? Too many people like that exist. Some people don’t care about winning as long as they can ensure you lose, too.

If I showed them my strength, they’d only double down, pressuring merchants and shops into refusing to sell me anything. They might even escalate and try to force me to work for them. Worse, the system had already blocked me from buying herbs—proof of how far these organizations would go to suppress competition.

By the time I left the city, the people pursuing me had broken into my house. They turned everything upside down, searching for potions or clues about my whereabouts.

When they realized I’d escaped, they sent out search parties to track me down.

All they found was a dead garden—poisoned by the failed potions I’d dumped.

***

My stay in the city had earned me close to 100 gold, but it was still a long way from the 250 gold I needed. If I converted everything to genes, I’d have about 166 genes—thanks to eating the meat I’d bought from the system.

Stolen novel; please report.

But then I encountered another problem there simply wasn’t enough meat available in the system for me to cap out my Elite genes.

I checked the price of Champion-grade meat—a staggering 100 gold for half a gene. If my next gene cap was 300, then I’d need to gather 60 platinum coins.

Sixty platinum coins... Just thinking about it made my head spin.

What about those higher up in the realm? How much did their genes cost? For example, what about Myth-grade genes? There might not even be enough monsters in the entire realm to supply the genes I’d need at that level.

I couldn’t ignore this problem and leave it for the “future me” to deal with. I needed a plan now.

How could I gather more genes?

Then I remembered the python. It had eaten that strange flower and its power had been enchanted—elevating its grade by one.

That meant there were herbs or resources capable of pushing a monster beyond its grade, possibly by one or more levels.

I need to cultivate herbs and monsters later so I can kill them, but how long will this take? No one knows, so my next problem is to fasten it up.

Herbalist is a good profession for this and with alchemist I can make fertilizers for it so it can grow faster I need several professions for me. First then a beast tamer then a hunter and lastly a cook profession.

I need these professions for my future and looking at their cost I need to gather 110 gold, I was shocked by just how much they cost! Unlike the Herbalsit which is separated for each grade of plant, these cover the basics of the profession.

Another big spending on top of the already pile of spending.

Then I have to change my armor for a better one.

My weapon is good already, but I need an armor that is comfortable to wear.

Making a list in my head of what to buy now and what to save for a later time. The armor should be now and the professions for later as I can wait with that once I reach higher realms, but I need to prepare myself to kill the remaining zombies in the city.

With everything settled, I continued my journey. To Skylit City.

***

In a room, people gathered together.

“Sir, not good the Were tribes might have found clues about our preparation for betrayal.” Said one of the people wearing a demonic mask with two horns on the top and a white robe that hides his whole body.

“Are you sure they found us?” Said a person with a red robe and angelic mask on his face.

“We are currently trying our best, but we don’t have long before they realize our betrayal and will strike us down.” Said the white-robed man as everyone started murmuring with the people closest to them.

“Quiet down everyone!” Said the red-robed person as he continued “How are the preparations? Are all the elemental weapons ready?” With saying that he turned towards a brown-robed individual with a mask that had no future only eyes.

“Everything is ready, this time we won’t fail, but we need around 1 and a half months of preparation time before our final weapon is ready for deployment against the Were tribes.” Said the brown individual in a tired voice.

“Then White demon try to buy time as long as possible even if means blowing your cover.” Said the red-robed person to the white-robed individual.

“Yes, sir!” Said the white-robed individual as he left the meeting swiftly.

“Everyone, please prepare yourself this is our only chance to save humanity from this darkness.” Said the red-robed person as he said this and they talked about other important factors, but they did not take long before they left this place.

***

“Sir, bad news! The Were tribes found out about the elemental weapons!” Said a person as he broke into a small private office.

If someone knew where this person broke in they would die from shock as no one can just break into this room without approval even the most trusted people need approval yet this person walked in here to the Grand Phoenix Hall Headquarters and Helix private office.

Helix sat at his desk, ignoring the man standing in front of him. He had already predicted the Were tribes would eventually uncover the truth, but he hadn’t expected it to take this long. He had almost forgotten about the extensive efforts he took to block the information—going so far as to eliminate the messenger who had originally brought him the news about the elemental weapons.

When Helix first learned about the existence of the elemental weapons, he saw it as his chance for revenge finally drawing closer. However, the Were tribes' insatiable greed had complicated matters. Each year, they demanded more people and whispers about human sacrifices were becoming increasingly difficult to suppress. If the rebels spread this information now, chaos would erupt. He would lose not only his control but also his prestige among the other alliances.

He couldn't afford to act rashly. If he attempted an uprising now, the Were tribes would crush them instantly. The timing was everything. The rebellion needed to wait for the perfect moment—when the Were tribes were weakened or preoccupied by another race. But therein lay the problem. The dominant races in the Realm rarely fought against each other. They knew that any conflict among themselves would only benefit the "lower races." Instead, they resolved disputes through diplomacy whenever possible.

Why? That was the question. What force ensured the peaceful coexistence of so many powerful races?

Helix had spent years digging for answers but was always met with silence. It was as though a towering wall shielded the truth, a truth the ruling races refused to share. If the lower races discovered it, perhaps they would find a way to rise.

“You’re dismissed. Continue monitoring the Were tribes,” Helix said at last, his voice steady as he turned back to the stack of papers on his desk.

But the man in front of him didn’t leave.

“Sir,” the masked figure said, his voice urgent, “the rebels are making a move. Based on the intelligence we’ve gathered, they’ve developed a super weapon—something capable of turning the tide against the Were tribes.”

Helix finally looked up. His sharp gaze met the breathless messenger. “A super weapon? Do we have any specifics?”

The masked man shook his head, still catching his breath. “We only know it’ll be ready in half a month.”

Helix leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled. “Half a month… not much time.” He let out a deep sigh, his mind racing. “Gather every elemental weapon we’ve forged. Equip our soldiers with them immediately. If the rebels truly have a weapon that can change the course of this war, we will join them.”

The man bowed low and left the room swiftly, leaving Helix alone with his thoughts.

“Can a miracle happen?” he whispered to the empty room, his voice barely audible. “Can I finally take my revenge on the Were tribes?”

His eyes drifted to a framed image on his desk. It showed his family—his wife, himself, and his young son, who sat perched on his shoulders with an innocent smile. The memory burned his heart.

Helix clenched his fists as the pain returned. His son had fought with him bitterly when Helix chose to side with the Were tribes. The boy wanted to join the rebels instead. To protect him, Helix had imprisoned his son. It was a decision he had hoped would save his life.

But his son escaped.

Years later, Helix had searched tirelessly, only to discover the grim truth his son had been taken as a sacrifice by the Were tribes. By the time he found out, it was far too late to save him.

That wasn’t the only truth Helix had unearthed. He had grandchildren. His son, who had raised them alone after their mother died in childbirth, had fought to protect them. Helix had intervened just in time, stopping them from being sold to perverse slavers.

But his grandchildren… they looked at him with cold, distant eyes. They didn’t refuse his help, but their resentment was clear. He couldn’t blame them. He had sinned.

Only now did he truly understand the weight of his actions.

Wiping his face quickly, Helix straightened in his chair. No one could see the master of the Grand Phoenix Hall cry. If they did, his authority among the alliances would crumble.

This was his moment—a chance for redemption.

***

44 Days Before the Cataclysm.