It truly felt like magic. With a peculiar mix of awe and unease, I stepped into the room. Just as I expected, there was no one inside. The place was unexpectedly clean and tidy, as if someone had gone out of their way to prepare it. On the table sat a cup of coffee, steam still rising lazily from its surface. That eccentric man in red clearly knew how to indulge himself.

And yet, I was stuck in this utterly absurd and chaotic world.

He called this place the Apocalypse Mirage, though I couldn’t be sure if he was telling the truth. The apocalyptic scenes outside were terrifyingly vivid—I could feel the warmth of the sun, smell the pungent scent of blood and fire, and feel the dull ache of my wounds. If I were to die here, would I truly die? Just the thought sent a chill down my spine.

I began piecing together the information I had gleaned from him. Apparently, many others like me had been drawn into this world through various mysterious means. That was the true nature of the so-called “disappearance legend” surrounding the old school restroom. Even so, I had yet to encounter anyone else. Were they also somewhere in this city?

As for why we were here, the self-proclaimed Harbinger claimed it was to save the world. He spoke as though the real world was destined to turn into something akin to this apocalyptic nightmare in the future.

Whether or not he was lying, his very existence was a mystery. He was too enigmatic, too otherworldly to be human.

But as far as I could tell from the horrifying scenes outside—a world overrun by the walking dead and grotesque monsters, collapsing skyscrapers, and countless people, be they beloved or despised, reduced to nothing more than fodder for these abominations—I loathed this world.

I didn’t know how many others he had “recruited,” but we were essentially candidates for heroism.

I used to admire the heroes in TV dramas, those brave souls who shouldered the burden of saving the world. They had the courage to face the pain and sacrifices that came with their journey, and their struggles often moved me to tears.

But I’d outgrown the childish fascination with being a “hero.” I didn’t even know what kind of person could truly save the world.

Such thoughts weighed on my heart like cold raindrops on a dark night. The sunlight outside felt warm, but it couldn’t thaw the icy dream I seemed to be trapped in.

I sat down at the table, trying to collect my thoughts. The coffee was still full—probably left unfinished by the red-clad man. It felt wasteful to throw it away, so I wiped the rim of the cup with my sleeve and took a sip.

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On the inside of my left wrist, a tattoo had inexplicably appeared. Two black diamond shapes extended outward like wings. I assumed it was some sort of “hero candidate certificate.” Curious, I touched it, and my head buzzed sharply, as if an avalanche of images and text were flooding my mind. The pain was so intense it made me grimace.

Then, just as quickly as it began, the sensation subsided.

I cautiously withdrew my hand, not daring to touch the mark again.

What the hell was that thing?!

Despite the ordeal, I felt as if I’d learned nothing concrete. It was as though knowledge had been crammed into my brain but remained just out of reach.

What should I do? How could I leave this place? Forget saving the world for now—if I stayed here too long, the real world would surely mark me as a missing person. My spotless record as a model student, something I had worked so hard to maintain, would be ruined. That was unacceptable!

“Send me back!” I shouted.

No answer.

“Damn it!”

I kicked the chair in frustration.

“Access attributes.”

I was referring to the information embedded in the diamond-shaped mark on my wrist. It was like a game manual, revealing itself only when its owner needed it. The data materialized in my mind.

**Name:** Gao Chuan

**Age:** 17

**Occupation:** Student

**Weapon:** Fire Axe

**Rating:** E+

E-rank, apparently the lowest tier.

I sighed heavily. Before heading to the basement, I decided to search the room for anything useful.

I drained the coffee in one go, grabbed my fire axe, and began rifling through drawers and cabinets.

Whoever had lived here didn’t leave much behind. There were few personal items, no weapons or medical supplies, and no diaries or computers that might have contained valuable information.

Under the bed, I found a large box filled with Halloween-themed figurines—creepy little dolls, mostly. Aside from that, I came across a portable gaming console that was all the rage lately. It looked intact but had no power. Still, I was thrilled; the device was expensive, and I’d been saving up for one. If I could bring it back to the real world, it would save my perpetually empty wallet.

I stuffed the console into my pocket, hoisted the fire axe, and returned to the hallway.

The blood loss had made the beast’s body partially visible. Its size was even larger than I had anticipated. Its fur was long like that of a collie, but its menacing head resembled that of a hunting dog.

**Name:** Phantom Hound

**Species:** Undead

**Rating:** D

**Status:** Near death

So it wasn’t fully dead yet. Fantastic.

I took a deep breath, forcing myself to stay calm, and brought the axe down.

I split its skull and tore open its belly. To my astonishment, its heart was still beating powerfully, and its organs seemed disturbingly vibrant. It felt as if given time, the creature might regenerate its grotesque head.

I smashed its heart to pulp. The vitality drained away instantly, like foam collapsing into nothingness. Its massive body crumbled to ash, sinking inward with a faint hiss. At that moment, the diamond-shaped mark on my wrist burned hot, and I heard a faint sizzle.

The ash swirled into a vortex, forming a half-meter-high spiral of gray mist.

I watched in astonishment as the spiral shrank and condensed into a single gray stone.