I crept along the eastern wall, keeping my steps light and measured. The potion shop's faded sign swung in the distance, creaking with each gust of wind. My hands were sweaty on the rusty knife's handle.

A Plague Bearer's grunt echoed from around the corner. I froze, pressing myself flat against the cold stone. The monster's heavy footsteps dragged closer, each one punctuated by the scrape of its twisted limbs on the ground.

"Come on, stick to the patrol route," I whispered.

The footsteps paused. My heart hammered against my ribs. I'd programmed them to investigate suspicious sounds, but had I included player whispers in that detection range?

The Plague Bearer shuffled away, its grunts fading into the distance. I let out a slow breath and peered around the corner.

The street opened into a small square. The potion shop sat across the way, its windows dark and uninviting. But something was wrong. The path looked too clear, too easy.

That's when I spotted them - fresh claw marks on the walls, deep gouges in the stone that hadn't been there in the game. Blighted Ones had moved into the area, changing the carefully crafted spawn patterns I'd designed.

The skittering sound of claws on stone made my blood run cold. Three paths lay before me, and each one could lead to a quick death if I chose wrong. The Obsidian Tower loomed ahead, its black mass cutting through the gray clouds like a knife wound in the sky.

To my left stood an old tavern, its door hanging off rusted hinges. Good cover, but Blighted Ones loved to nest in buildings. They'd trap players inside and wear them down. I'd coded that behavior myself, proud of how it forced players to think tactically.

The alley to my right offered quick escape routes through the maze-like streets. But the narrow walls would trap me if I ran into a patrol. No room to dodge those razor-sharp claws.

The main street stretched ahead, open and exposed. Dangerous, but I'd have room to maneuver. Plus, it led toward the potion shop—if I could make it that far.

A wet growl echoed from somewhere nearby. The Blighted Ones moved in packs, using their enhanced senses to track prey. One growl meant others were closing in.

"Should've made them slower," I muttered, gripping the rusty knife. The weapon felt pathetic—I'd designed it to be practically useless against anything tougher than a rat. "Or dumber. Or both."

The growl came again, closer this time. The sound of claws grew louder, a horrible scratching that meant they were scaling the buildings around me. They'd attack from above if I didn't move now.

I raised the knife, knowing it wouldn't do much good against their thick hides.

And they never hunted alone.

I sprinted down the main street, my boots crunching on broken glass and gravel. The growls faded behind me, but I knew better than to slow down.

Distance meant nothing to the Blighted Ones—they'd track my scent for miles.

Broken buildings lined the street, their windows dark and hungry. Debris littered the ground, perfect hiding spots for the smaller predators.

A dead Plague Bearer lay slumped against a wall, its bloated corpse already being picked clean by ravens. Something had torn it apart.

The ravens noticed me. Three black heads turned, red eyes staring right at me.

Not normal birds. Nothing was normal here.

"Shit," I gripped the knife tighter. "I made you bastards too, didn't I?"

Ravens were weak alone, but they called bigger threats. One screech could bring everything within half a mile.

The birds spread their wings. I gripped my rusty knife, knowing it wouldn't do much.

My hands shook. Dying to ravens would be embarrassing, but dead was dead.

A howl followed close by. The ravens took flight, abandoning their meal.

Through the doorway, I caught movement two streets over. Something big loped between buildings, heading north.

North. Where I needed to go.

"Wonderful. Just wonderful." I flattened myself against the wall, considering my choices. The creature would intercept me if I went straight through. Taking the long way around meant more exposure time, more opportunities for danger to spot me.

My choices were limited.

I could retreat all the way to the Summoning Platform, but its protective enchantments were already growing weak.

A crumbling structure that might provide cover stood to my left. On my right, a tight passageway offered quick passage but could leave me trapped.

The wide boulevard extended before me, cluttered with rubble, deserted wagons, and improvised barriers erected by soldiers and cavaliers who'd attempted to protect the city. Each path had its own risks.

I recognized this crossroads. In development, we'd named it "Tutorial Junction" - where players faced their first meaningful decision. The structure held basic resources but drew in the Plague Bearers.

I stepped out from the alley, weighing my options. The dead end would force an encounter with a Blood Hunter - that much was hardcoded into the spawn patterns.

The main street lay exposed before me, but it offered the clearest route to the potion shop. Two years of player data had shown the highest survival rates along this path.

I adjusted my grip on the rusty knife, grimly aware that past "deaths" had only meant lost progress, not actual lives.

A crash echoed from the ruined building nearby, followed by the wet sound of something dragging across stone. That settled it - main street was the obvious choice.

The barricades would provide decent cover if needed. Abandoned carts might still hold supplies, if they hadn't been completely looted.

Most importantly, the open street meant I could spot threats from a distance.

I pressed close to the walls as I moved, making each step deliberate and silent. The barricades told a grim story with their splintered wood, dried blood, and discarded weapons.

This wasn't the sanitized version from the game with its copy-pasted assets. Real people had fought and died here.

A overturned cart lay twenty feet ahead, its contents strewn across the cobblestones. Unlike the game's predictable loot tables of food and basic supplies, this cart held something more personal.

From a broken chest spilled the remnants of real lives: well-worn clothes, a child's wooden toy, and letters still bearing their wax seals.

I cursed under my breath, the word coming out harsher than intended.

My grip tightened on the rusty knife, its inadequacy more apparent with each passing moment.

The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

The setting sun painted everything in crimson, three hours of light remaining. Long shadows stretched through the broken buildings, transforming windows into gaping dark maws.

My boots scraped against loose stones as I darted between points of cover. From barricade to abandoned cart, then to a fallen pillar.

The potion shop's weathered sign creaked ahead, moving in a wind I couldn't detect. Only two more blocks separated me from my destination.

A sound from my right caught my attention - movement in a shadowed doorway. I pressed myself against the nearest wall, holding perfectly still.

A rat emerged, its tail leaving a trail in the dust. Just vermin, not one of the twisted horrors that would appear after nightfall.

The absolute quiet felt unnatural, setting my nerves on edge.

I edged forward, keeping my movements slow and deliberate. The rat was helpful in a way, they usually fled when larger predators were nearby. The fact that it hadn't scampered away suggested the area might be temporarily clear.

The potion shop's faded blue door stood partially open, swaying in that strange, unfelt wind. Two years of watching player streams had taught me the optimal approach, hug the right wall, check the broken window, then slip inside before anything could spot you.

A glint of metal caught my eye. Half-buried in rubble lay a cavalier's sword, its blade snapped near the hilt.

I cursed.

The broken window showed only darkness inside the shop. No movement, no sounds.

"Please be empty," I whispered, easing toward the door. "Just this once, be empty."

The hinges creaked as I pushed it wider. The place looked like it had been picked clean long ago, but maybe... I started rummaging through the rubble, tossing aside splintered wood and rusted metal, praying to find something, anything, useful.

There! Half-buried under a collapsed beam, a few withered herbs and some crushed mushroom caps. Not much, but in this world, it could mean the difference between life and death. With trembling fingers, I scooped them up and got to work.

The process was just like I imagined it would. Crush the mushrooms, mix with the herbs, a pinch of salt from my pouch. I worked quickly, the sounds of the Blighted Ones drawing nearer with every passing second.

Finally, the crude mixture was ready. I downed it in one gulp, fighting back the urge to gag at the bitterness. But almost immediately, I could feel its effects working on my body. It wasn't as much as I thought I'd get, but it was a place to start.

[System Notification]

[You have gained 50 points to health]

[Current health 113/113]

My muscles stopped aching so much and my vision sharpened. A small comfort amidst the chaos outside. I checked my surroundings again: a toppled table against one wall and shattered glass everywhere.

Another growl echoed from just outside.

I crouched lower behind an overturned bench, trying to make myself as small as possible. The barricade I'd made wouldn't hold long if they decided to investigate this place thoroughly.

A sudden crash drew me attention towards the front of the building. Monsters were close. Too close. The wooden planks I'd used to block it trembled with each impact as something heavy slammed against them.

"Damn it," I muttered under my breath.

There was no other way out but forward into the building’s darkened depths. Quietly as possible, I moved further inside, each step carefully placed to avoid making noise on the scattered debris.

The darkness thickened around me; no light filtered through broken windows or cracks in walls here. This part of the structure seemed more intact but eerily silent except for distant growls outside.

I paused at an old storage room door, considering it as potential cover. Despite my instincts warning me, I pressed deeper into unknown territory, clinging to a desperate hope for luck.

A thunderous crash shook the ruined building, interrupting my brief moment of improved health. My hastily-built barricade exploded inward as three Blighted Ones burst through like it was made of twigs.

I gripped my dagger tightly, facing their gnashing teeth and razor-sharp claws.

[System Notification]

[Battle Start]

[You have encountered Blighted Ones x3]

"Shit," I muttered while backing away. The building's confined space was both blessing and curse - they couldn't surround me, but I had little room to dodge.

The first one lunged with its hooked claws slashing toward my head. I ducked, feeling the air disturb my hair, and my dagger found its mark in the monster's side.

[Blighted One 1 takes 12 damage]

[Blighted One 1 HP: 88/100]

Before I could capitalize on this small victory, the second Blighted One was on me. Its putrid breath washed over my face as I barely held back its snapping jaws with my forearm.

"Get. Off. Me!" I drove my dagger into its shoulder with a growl.

[Blighted One 2 takes 10 damage]

[Blighted One 2 HP: 90/100]

The creature reeled back with a howl of pain. As I moved to press my advantage, the third Blighted One caught me off guard.

Its claws tore through my shirt and into my back, drawing blood.

[You take 15 damage]

[Your HP: 98/113]

I stumbled as pain exploded across my back, nearly losing my footing on the debris-strewn floor. The Blighted Ones pressed their advantage, closing in from all sides.

My eyes darted around the room, searching desperately for anything useful. In the corner, I spotted a partially collapsed staircase - perfect for funneling them into a bottleneck.

I dove for the stairs, my boots pounding against rotting wood as I ran. Behind me, inhuman shrieks echoed off the walls as the Blighted Ones gave chase.

At the top, I spun around with my dagger ready. The first one bounded up, all gnashing teeth and flailing limbs.

I met its charge head-on, driving my dagger deep into its throat. The system notifications flashed:

[Critical Hit!]

[Blighted One 1 takes 28 damage]

[Blighted One 1 HP: 60/100]

Black ichor spewed from the creature's wound as it gurgled and toppled. The other two were already scrambling over their fallen companion's twitching form.

I gripped my dagger tighter, ready for the next wave. The narrow staircase worked to my advantage, forcing them to attack one at a time.

As the second one lunged, I sidestepped and used its momentum to send it tumbling down the stairs.

[Blighted One 2 takes 5 damage]

[Blighted One 2 HP: 85/100]

The third one charged right behind its fellow. I ducked under its wild swing and slashed at its leg with precision.

[Blighted One 3 takes 8 damage]

[Blighted One 3 HP: 92/100]

The creature stumbled, giving me a precious moment. I bolted past it, leaping over the railing to the floor below.

[You take 5 damage]

[Your HP: 93/113]

I sprinted across the room, vaulting over a collapsed pillar. The Blighted Ones' inhuman shrieks echoed off the walls as they gave chase.

A narrow hallway caught my eye - perfect for my plan. I darted down it, hearing their pursuit close behind.

At the hallway's end, I spun around, dagger ready. The first Blighted One barreled towards me.

I waited until the last second, then dodged. Its claws raked my arm as it passed.

[You take 12 damage]

[Your HP: 81/113]

Through gritted teeth, I drove my dagger into its back.

[Blighted One 1 takes 15 damage]

[Blighted One 1 HP: 45/100]

The second one was upon me before I could press on. Its teeth tore into my shoulder.

[You take 20 damage]

[Your HP: 61/113]

With desperate strength, I slammed my head back into its face. The creature's grip loosened just enough.

My foot caught something as I stumbled back. I went down hard, my head cracking against the floor.

Through my pain-hazed vision, the third Blighted One loomed above. Its claws descended, tearing into my stomach.

[You take 10 damage]

[Your HP: 51/113]

I rolled away from the Blighted One's next swipe, my muscles screaming in protest. Blood dripped from my wounds, but I couldn't let up. Not now.

The creatures had me cornered, but their eagerness to kill worked against them. They stumbled over each other, fighting to reach me first.

I gripped my dagger with both hands and drove it up through the nearest one's jaw. The blade punched through rotting flesh and bone.

[Critical Hit!]

[Blighted One 1 takes 45 damage]

[Blighted One 1 has been slain]

The creature's body slumped forward, pinning me beneath its weight. The other two howled and clawed at their fallen companion, trying to reach me.

I yanked my dagger free and stabbed through the corpse, catching the second Blighted One in the eye.

[Critical Hit!]

[Blighted One 2 takes 50 damage]

[Blighted One 2 has been slain]

The last one reared back, giving me space to scramble up. We faced each other in the narrow hall, both wounded, both desperate.

It lunged. I stepped into its attack, taking its claws across my chest but getting inside its reach. My dagger punctured its chest wall instead, destroying its heart in one go.

[Critical Hit!]

[Blighted One 3 takes 67 damage]

[Blighted One 3 has been slain]

[Level Up!]

[You have reached Level 2]

[All stats increased by 1]

[HP fully restored: 123/123]

[You have gained a Skill]

[One-Handed Weapons - Level 1]

I felt warmth flood through me as the system's healing took effect. My wounds sealed themselves while strength flowed back into my tired limbs.

I knew better than to let this renewed vigor cloud my judgment. Experience had taught me that lesson well enough.

Taking my blade, I cleaned it methodically against a fallen Blighted One's rags. The recent commotion would undoubtedly attract more of their kind.

My hands trembled slightly as I searched through the corpses. Black ichor stained my fingers as I methodically checked their remains.

"Come on, there's got to be something useful here," I muttered, continuing my grim task.

A metallic glint caught my eye from the finger of one of the monsters, I tore it free, cleaning off the dark gore.

[Item Acquired: Copper Ring of Minor Protection]

[+2 Defense when equipped]

The ring wasn't much, but I'd learned to appreciate any advantage I could get. I slid it onto my finger with a slight grimace.

Survival had no shame.