The girl looked down at the blood-stained mall, her voice cold enough to freeze marrow: "Targets confirmed. Prologue Mission—Begin!"
BOOM!
Streaks of red and silver light plummeted from the balcony. They were the starter armors Lawson knew by heart: [Red Vortex].
[Conversion: 100%]
At that exact moment, a piercing chime rang in his ears.
[SSS-Rank Authority: Armor Smith — System Glitch Detected.]
Lawson looked at the field. The "Heroes" in their sleek, glowing suits were dazzling, like gods descending to save the weak. Lawson looked at his vibrating, cracked phone. A bitter smile crept onto his face.
"So, the world is broken? Fine. I've been breaking game engines for a decade. I'll exploit this reality until it snaps."
"Esther! Explain yourself!" Lawson barked. "How the hell did you crawl out of a screen?!"
Esther drifted down, her feet hovering inches above the debris. She wore her signature porcelain, doll-like expression—composed, even amidst the carnage.
"I don't know," she replied. "A black hole swallowed every NPC and asset in the game. When I opened my eyes… I was here."
The next clash erupted instantly, but it wasn't a fight—it was a slaughter.
The new "warriors" looked the part in their flashy, high-tier gear, but they played like absolute scrubs. Within two minutes, their formation was shredded. One man took a hit so heavy his armor hit the 'Force Eject' threshold; the suit de-materialized into pixels before his body even hit the ground.
"Pathetic," Esther hissed, her voice dripping with venom. "Is there not a single competent player in this entire world? You're all just chaff!"
"You think this is easy?!" a retreating warrior screamed in a panic. "The game was dead! We only put these suits on to be 'One-Day Heroes,' not to actually die!"
Before he could finish, a bone-chilling crunch echoed through the mall. A Shadow Shifter had closed the gap, ending the man's "hero" career—permanently.
Watching the monsters begin their harvest, the resentment in Lawson's chest finally boiled over. As the last 'living fossil' of this game—and the one screwed over hardest by the system—he couldn't stay silent any longer.
He stepped forward. His presence radiated a sheer pressure that momentarily paralyzed even the monsters.
"EVERYONE, SHUT UP!" Lawson's voice boomed.
He stood tall—unarmed, unarmored, and dressed in a simple retail uniform. Yet, he looked down at the armored "heroes" like they were insects.
"Defensive circle! Now! Fall back to my position. I'll show you how a real veteran clears this garbage."
The arrogant survivors glanced at him. He was a "Naked" player—no armor, no shield, not even a basic defense film.
"Pfft, a peasant playing hero?" one sneered. "Stay in the back where it's safe, Civilian. Don't trip us up."
They laughed, turning back to the fray like headless chickens.
He ignored the arrogant warriors and pointed at the six standing in front.
"You six. Your armor is sparking because the system's auto-calibration is trash. Do exactly as I say if you want to live."
He didn't just give strategy; he tapped his phone screen, sending a burst of raw data to their HUDs.
"I've identified the Brutes' recovery lag: 1.6 seconds. I've highlighted their abdominal cores on your visors. Now, redline your thrusters. Don't worry about the explosion—I've bypassed your safety limiters."
Six pairs of boots ignited. They didn't just fight; they moved like Lawson's puppets. When the dust settled, the mall was a graveyard of black mist.
When the dust settled, the mall fell into a haunting silence. The surviving civilians huddled in corners, trembling. The "heroes" who had mocked Lawson were either dead or crawling toward the exit, tossing their phones aside in terror.
"Cowards! You're quitting after the first wave?!" Esther's pink eyes flashed with fury as she watched them flee. "Abandoning your Warrior Authority means you're nothing but monster food the moment you step outside! In this broken world, there is no mercy for the weak! Rot then, you idiots!"
Her scream echoed, but no one looked back.
Lawson walked toward Esther, his expression heavy. "Enough, Esther. Explain. The world is a dungeon, the monsters are real… what the hell is happening?"
The six blood-stained warriors and the survivors gathered around, their eyes fixed on the mysterious girl in the lolita dress.
"Fine," Esther sighed, her toxic attitude softening slightly. She flicked her wrist, and a glowing, holographic tablet appeared in the air.
"Since the 'Great Convergence' has begun, I'll brief you idiots on the current situation."
As the interface expanded, a truth that would shatter the world began to unfold. The era of the Ten-Year Veteran had arrived.
Esther's fingers blurred across the tablet. Blue streams of light spilled from the screen, projecting a crumbling holographic world map into the stale air of the mall.
"To put it simply," Esther's voice was chillingly calm in the dead silence. "Our world—the Armor Link server—didn't just vanish when the shut-down timer hit zero. Instead, a phenomenon called 'Data Collapse' is forcing the game's reality to overwrite yours."
On the projection, countless red dots spread like a digital plague across the globe.
"Reality has been gamified."
She swiped the air, displaying a set of terrifying parameters:
[World Logic Reconstruction]: Physical laws have been rewritten. Conventional firearms now deal 0% damage to monsters. Only 'System-Authorized' armor can deal lethal blows.
[Ecological Invasion]: The [Brutes] you saw are just scouts. As the dimensions merge, World Bosses—entities capable of wiping out entire civilizations—will descend.
[Class Assignment]: The system assigns classes based on your soul's traits.
Esther turned to the six warriors, her gaze devoid of pity. "Most of you are 'Warrior Types.' You can fight, but you have a fatal flaw: your armor is a non-renewable consumable."
"What does that mean?" one warrior asked, his hand trembling as he traced a hairline fracture spiderwebbing across his gauntlet.
"It means once your durability hits zero, it shatters. Forever," Esther said flatly. "With the game servers offline, there's no one left to patch your souls."
Panic rippled through the group. They weren't heroes; they were a suicide squad swinging disposable glass swords.
Suddenly, Esther turned. Her pink pupils locked onto the silent Lawson, glowing with a rare, fanatical intensity.
"But... there is a glitch in the system. A miracle."
The holographic screen froze on Lawson's profile, suddenly encased in a blinding, golden SSS-Rank icon.
"While others are born to be consumed, Lawson... he awakened as an [SSS-Rank Armor Smith]. The only High-Tier Production Class in existence."
Esther leaned in, her porcelain face inches from his. "In an era where steel is life, you aren't just a blacksmith. You are the only man who can mend a hero's soul—or forge God-Tier relics with your bare hands."