I stepped out of the stadium hall, Kyle trailing behind me like an obedient puppy who pretends he's not one. The city stretched ahead—cold, metallic, humming with artificial life. Somewhere above us, invisible eyes watched. Calculated. Grinned.
The first building was a sad little metal cube.
Honestly… tragic.
As I approached, a pale hologram blinked awake:
[Item – Small Shelter]
[Contains – 1 Bed, 1 Tiny Bathroom]
[Speciality – Protects from Intruders and Shadow Walkers]
Do you want to buy?
(Yes/No)
One glance was enough.
Too small. Too weak. Too predictable.
A shelter for people who think "survival" is the same as "living."
"Next."
I clicked No without hesitation.
Of course, the architect of this death circus wouldn't let players sleep peacefully.
A shelter that barely keeps Shadow Walkers away?
How generous.
Translation: Buy a house or die screaming.
Options? Zero.
Manipulation? Maximum.
I kept walking. And walking. And walking.
Five types of houses. Specialisations, prices, neighbourhoods.
A hierarchy neatly arranged like a buffet just for me.
Small Shelter – 100 coins
Modern House – 1000 coins
Elite House – 10,000 coins
Master House – 50,000 coins
Sovereign House – 100,000 coins
A ladder of power.
A ladder I fully intended to climb until my heels crushed someone's skull at the top.
---
The Modern House area felt like stepping into a shinier district—clean lines, white surfaces, faint blue glow.
Not perfect, but at least it didn't look like a coffin.
Another hologram flickered:
[Item – Modern House]
[Contains – Living Space + Bedroom + Modern Bathroom + Small Kitchen]
[Speciality – Auto-Lock Door, Basic Safety, Teleport Point (objects only)]
Do you want to buy?
(Yes/No)
Efficient.
Stable.
Strategically reasonable.
The kind of home someone builds when they plan to rise—not hide.
"Yes," I said.
The bracelet hummed, its light spreading like liquid across the metal.
[Purchase Successful]
[Remaining Coins – 2000]
[Modern House #1]
[Owner – Alice]
[First Purchase Reward – Holographic Map]
A reward?
Nice.
Even the system knows I'm worth investing in.
Temporary base secured.
Future empire loading.
My gaze drifted toward the distant Sovereign House district—the glowing palace meant for the elite.
"One day," I whispered, "This will be mine."
---
Panels shimmered.
Windows shifted from light to substance.
Walls collapsed into shape, forming a sleek white structure with clean glass edges.
It was like watching my future build itself.
I opened the door and went inside. When Kyle tried to enter, a blue transparent wall appeared in front of him, blocking his way.
My bracelet glowed again:
[Syncing Completed]
A message appeared: [Another person is trying to enter. Give permission]
(Yes\no)
"Yes," I said, and the wall vanished.
[Register this person]
(Yes\no)
I clicked "Yes."
[Person's name - ____ ]
"Kyle"
[Kyle registered successfully]
Kyle entered and said, "This house safety system is good."
"Not bad," I replied
A new icon appeared—a map symbol pulsing gently.
The living room was simple but classy: a soft grey sofa, a small glass table, warm lighting.
I placed my hand on the table.
A holographic map sprang to life, floating like a glowing city blueprint.
Another message appeared:
[Set Teleport Point]
- Living Room
- Kitchen
Use: You can teleport objects to these points by tapping the logo on any item you buy.
I grinned.
Teleportation for objects only?
Interesting limitation.
But extremely efficient.
No carrying heavy gear.
No wasting energy.
Everything was delivered straight to my house like a premium membership.
This place might not be a palace, but the potential?
Oh, delicious.
I checked the rest:
Bedroom: built-in closet
Kitchen: fridge (empty but obedient), auto-clean system
Bathroom: modern, spotless
Living space: calm, controlled
An apartment in a death world.
A perfect beginning.
Kyle looked around, wide-eyed.
"This is… nice."
"It'll do for now," I replied.
The holographic map spun slowly in front of me, every district glowing like a different flavour of danger.
I leaned closer. My brain switched into calculation mode so naturally it felt like breathing.
Kyle hovered behind me—trying, failing, and absolutely terrified to keep up.
The map wasn't random.
Five main zones appeared—housing, stadium, market, resource areas, and a few dark sections with no labels at all.
Places without labels?
That's always where games hide the good stuff… or the nightmares.
Either way, I planned to see them.
Blue roads were clearly the safer paths.
Grey paths? Neutral, unpredictable.
Red paths pulsed faintly like a warning sign.
And then there were the black paths—almost invisible.
"Those are the interesting ones," I murmured.
Kyle frowned. "Why?"
"Because the system expects us to avoid them. Which means secrets."
He swallowed hard. I smiled lightly.
Poor boy—still learning.
The market blinked like a yellow beacon.
There were three ways to reach it:
The short path: quickest but too obvious—perfect for ambushes.
The middle route: balanced but crowded.
The long route: quiet, winding, and ideal for someone who prefers thinking over running.
I tapped the long one.
"This one," I decided.
Kyle blinked. "Even though it takes longer?"
"Longer usually means fewer idiots," I said.
"And a higher chance of finding things the game doesn't want us to notice."
He didn't argue. Smart boy.
The outer edges of the map were shaded dark, as if the system didn't want players wandering there.
Which meant Shadow Walkers probably moved there at night.
Not random beasts—more like guards.
Herding players inward.
Keeping us in the "play area."
Great.
Loved that for us.
I straightened up.
"Okay. Here's what we'll do."
Kyle listened like I was giving him the formula for survival.
Which, honestly, I was.
Tomorrow, you scout using the neutral paths.
Avoid the red ones until we get weapons.
Explore the black paths secretly—they're hiding something.
Use the long route to the market.
And before the week ends… take control of this whole area.
Kyle stared at me.
"This is your beginner plan?"
I smiled.
"This is me warming up."
The map flickered brighter—almost approving.
I didn't blame it.
I finished laying out tomorrow's plan for Kyle — every route, every risk, every contingency.
Night had settled in, quiet and heavy.
Kyle stood up, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly, and began walking toward the door.
I raised an eyebrow. "Where are you going?"
He paused, turned around slowly.
"…To buy a house."
I blinked at him. "With what, the pocket change you call 100 coins?"
His ears went a little pink. "I‑I just thought—"
"No." I crossed my arms. "Keep that money. You're staying here until you can afford something decent. I'm not letting the person who works for me live in a shabby place. Do you want my reputation to drop?"
He stared at me as if I'd just handed him a lifetime gift.
"But… it's your house."
"Yeah, so?" I shrugged. "You sleep on the sofa in the living room, I'll take the bedroom."
He looked like he wanted to argue, but eventually nodded. "…Alright."
I left him in the living room and headed into my room.
The moment I lay down, my brain refused to rest — gears turning, calculating strategies, predicting probabilities, drafting three different future plans at once.
How to secure more funds.
How to control the market flow.
How to map out the city's social hierarchy.
How to expand influence fast.
Midnight arrived quietly.
And then — my entire house started glowing blue.
Not softly. Not saintly.
A full-body shiver kind of glow.
The walls dissolved into transparent outlines, shimmering like holograms. I could see through them — every corner, every pipe, every structural line of the house as if it had reverted to its pre-purchase blueprint state.
My bracelet vibrated once.
A single message appeared:
> [House security protocol is started]
[Stay inside the house danger detected]
Cancel house security protocol
(Yes\no)
Security protocol, danger..
I clicked on " no"
I sat up slowly, eyes narrowing.
Again a message floated above my watch:
[Night Surveillance Mode Activated]
[Only house owners can view external environment safely]
"Oh?"
My eyebrow lifted.
Well… that was interesting.
The entire street outside was visible from my bed.
Houses glowed blue faintly.
Shops glowed black.
The ground pulsed with blue light.
And in between all of that—
movement.
At first, it looked like a shadow stretching too far from a lamppost.
Then the shadow stood up.
The creature was thin, longer than a normal human, its edges flickering like a corrupted hologram. It didn't walk—
it glided.
A Shadow Walker.
My heart didn't even twitch.
Instead, a cold calculation slid into place.
Pattern? Speed? Range? Priority target?
Observation first. Emotion later.
People who didn't own houses were sleeping outside—curled under benches, near walls, hugging themselves.
One man woke up, rubbing his eyes.
He didn't even get to scream.
The Walker snapped toward him with a sharp, jerky motion—
and in one blink,
the man's body stretched like a smear of ink
then collapsed into silence.
Two others started running.
Bad idea.
The Walker's head tilted.
It flickered—once—
and reappeared right behind them.
A strike.
A tearing sound that wasn't natural.
Two more gone.
No sound.
No mercy.
Just efficient system extermination.
I leaned my head slightly against the transparent wall, watching calmly.
Trigger: movement.
Reaction time: instantaneous.
Kill type: shadow-tether severing.
Safe zone: inside owned property only.
"So that's what you are…" I whispered.
The Walker lingered, scanning the empty street.
When it found no survivors, it melted back into the darkness, its shape collapsing into the wall like a returning stain.
The street went still.
Bodies remained where they fell.
My house faded back to normal walls.
Surveillance mode ended.
Kyle snored softly from the living room sofa, completely unaware of the massacre right outside our door.
I pulled my blanket back up.
"That settles it," I murmured, closing my eyes.
No house = no life.
And I… plan to stay very alive.