On Earth, days repeated one after another, not much different from the past. In a city of a nation with an ancient history, within an ordinary residential district, inside a plain single apartment.
A young man named Nathan Cross, who had only recently graduated from university, had just resigned after a small argument with his boss. He now stayed at home, considering what to do next, busily browsing the web in search of a suitable job.
His parents had vanished during his middle school summer vacation. They went traveling to enjoy their so‑called "two‑person world," but afterward disappeared without a trace. To this day, there was no definite news. Although not officially confirmed dead, the situation was unlikely to be much better.
His parents' business had been decent, with savings, but also debts. In the end, for reasons unclear, little was left. No relatives wanted to take on another burden, so Nathan lived alone. After leaving his small hometown county to attend high school in the city, he had no choice but to work, otherwise he couldn't even afford rent.
Through many stumbles, he managed to remain enrolled in university and worked hard to obtain his diploma, so that finding a job might be slightly easier… though only slightly.
"There's still 26,000 yuan in savings. Enough for a while… but I'd better have more reserves. If I get sick, I'm finished."
Checking his bank balance on his phone, Nathan let out a small sigh of relief. Yet the pressure of life still pushed him to continue searching online for work.
But just as he was looking through nearby company job postings, a window suddenly popped up on his computer, and the screen turned completely black.
"…Did I accidentally click on some game?"
He muttered in confusion, quickly pressing ALT+TAB to switch out, but nothing happened. He tried opening the task manager, but again, no response.
"What the hell?… Don't tell me it broke? No way! Repairing a computer can drain your wallet in an instant…"
He tried holding the power button to force a restart, but it didn't work. Just as he was about to unplug the power cord in frustration, text finally appeared on the screen.
[The world is boring.]
"Not necessarily. If I had money, I wouldn't think so. But I don't… Wait, is this one of those hackers? Please don't ask for too much ransom…"
Instinctively, he complained at the words on the monitor. Strangely intrigued, Nathan decided to wait and see what would happen next—perhaps a QR code for payment would appear, like the ransomware his classmates had once encountered.
[Therefore, the world is about to undergo change.]
[Change from the Supreme Creator.]
"…A hacker with terminal chuunibyou?"
He couldn't help but comment, but the text continued regardless of his thoughts, as if following a preset program.
[Interesting things are about to happen. This world will face invasion from beyond.]
[But if the world is a stage, then a protagonist is essential. Now, you shall be the protagonist.]
[For the sake of story, I grant you divine blessing. Small mortal, be grateful for your fortune.]
[Two months from now, the apocalypse will arrive bit by bit. Struggle to your heart's content.]
...
After this bizarre, overly dramatic announcement ended, Nathan suddenly felt a burning pain in the palm of his right hand.
Thinking it was the mouse, he instinctively let go, but then noticed a faint golden glow and a golden rune appearing in the center of his palm.
"…Wait, this isn't a joke?"
Staring blankly at the mark, his shock left him unsure what expression to make.
Before he could react further, or question the reality of the situation and the credibility of the apocalypse prophecy, his mind was struck with dizziness, halting all thought.
When he regained clarity, strange memories had been implanted into him. He realized he now possessed something extraordinary. Hard to describe, but in common terms it was a "system"—capable of recruiting soldiers and producing weapons.
Unbeknownst to him, it was created based on the game Command & Conquer: Red Alert 3, which did not exist in this world.
The function to create people was not yet available, seemingly locked until two months later. Even if it were open now, he had no funds to use it.
"A conscript with standard equipment… 10 kilograms of gold? Why not just rob me! With 10 kilograms of gold I could hire several mercenaries—though I don't have the channels anyway…"
Living alone for so long, Nathan couldn't help but complain at the outrageous price, muttering to himself.
Still… if order collapsed, robbery might become an option.
Weapons and equipment could be manufactured immediately, such as firearms and body armor, but the prices were again far above market value.
A Glock 18 9mm fully automatic pistol with a full magazine cost 500g of gold. One hundred rounds of ammunition cost only 100g.
Opening his now‑functional computer to check gold prices, he found retail was about 360 yuan per gram. After a moment of silence, he decisively closed the browser, protecting his fragile heart from further damage.
Whether 10 kilograms or even 10 grams, he couldn't afford it. For him, this system was nothing more than a world‑class luxury store, with no cost‑performance at all. Better not to look, lest he be crushed by despair.
"…Rather than worry about two months from now, I should think about what to eat tomorrow morning…"
Leaning back on the sofa and rubbing his temples, Nathan decided not to overthink. After the shock faded and calm returned, he realized that thinking too much was meaningless.
He still doubted the prophecy's authenticity. It was simply too unbelievable, leaving him with little sense of reality.
…As if to shatter his doubts, the rune on his hand suddenly emitted a black light curtain. Something emerged, pressing cold metal into his palm.
On the desk beneath his right hand lay a pistol—an antique, yet still beloved by U.S. special forces: the M1911.
[The First Gift]
Confused and utterly shocked, Nathan saw these five golden words appear before his eyes.
Now, whether he believed it or not, he had no choice but to accept. And so, he immediately began preparing for the sake of his own survival.