"ARGHHH!"
Jordan shot upright in bed with a ragged scream, his body drenched in sweat as though he had just been dragged out of water.
His chest rose and fell violently, each breath sharp and uneven, as he listened to the frantic pounding of his own heartbeat echoing loudly in his ears.
For a moment, he couldn't tell if he was still dreaming.
He lowered his head slowly, gripping the thin sheets beneath him until his knuckles turned pale, forcing himself to breathe… to steady himself… to come back.
'The same nightmare again,' Jordan thought grimly.
And somewhere deep inside him—buried beneath fear, exhaustion, and denial—he feared it wasn't just a nightmare.
No matter how many times he relived it, he could never get used to it. The horror of that dreadful night refused to fade. Time did nothing to dull it. If anything, it only made it sharper… more real.
He always woke the same way.
With that suffocating fear.
That crushing weight on his chest.
That horrifying sensation that made him feel as though he were dying all over again—every single time.
After several long, shaky breaths, Jordan finally began to calm down.
He ran his fingers through his red hair, now damp and sticking to his forehead, and let out a quiet sigh before pushing himself up from the thin foam mattress laid directly on the cold floor of his small, empty room.
The apartment was quiet.
Too quiet.
The cracked walls around him were unpainted, rough, and worn down by time. The faint chill in the air slipped through unseen gaps, brushing against his skin.
There was no comfort here.
No warmth.
No luxury.
Only survival.
Jordan reached down and picked up his phone from beside the mattress. The screen was cracked, the damage spreading like a spiderweb across the glass, but it still worked well enough.
He squinted at the time.
Past eight.
"At least I didn't wake up too early this time," he muttered under his breath.
He stood up slowly, his body still heavy from the remnants of fear, and walked toward the door. His footsteps were quiet as he stepped into the narrow hallway.
The first thing he did—just as he did every single morning—was walk to the door beside his own and gently push it open.
His gaze immediately settled on the figure lying still on the bed.
A flicker of concern passed through his eyes.
On the bed lay a pale, frail teenage girl. Her red hair—just like his—was spread messily across the pillow. A small cooling device rested against her forehead, softly humming as it regulated her temperature.
He walked into the room quietly, not wanting to wake her and stood still as he watched her.
She looked peaceful.
Too peaceful.
This was his sister.
Elena.
Jordan stood there for a moment longer than usual, watching her chest rise and fall slowly, reassuring himself that she was still breathing… still alive.
Because in this world, even that wasn't something you could take for granted anymore.
The world had changed.
Completely.
It started subtly—so subtly that people didn't even realize something was wrong at first.
The weather was the first sign.
One day it would be unbearably hot, the next day freezing cold. Deserts began flooding with violent storms, while places known for their icy climates started thawing unexpectedly. Even Antarctica—once a symbol of endless ice—began melting overnight, only to freeze again the next day as temperatures plummeted without warning.
Nothing made sense anymore.
The sky itself felt unstable.
People began carrying umbrellas even under clear blue skies, as if expecting rain at any moment.
And they weren't wrong to.
But the weather… was only the beginning.
Then came the beasts.
No one knew where they came from.
One day, they simply appeared.
Creatures that defied logic and nature—massive, violent, and relentless. At the same time, animals that had existed for centuries began mutating into something far more dangerous.
Something monstrous.
The world quickly became unsafe.
Cities fell.
Civilizations collapsed.
Survival became the only rule that mattered.
But the beasts weren't the only threat that came with the apocalypse.
New diseases followed.
Strange illnesses that had never existed before began spreading across the world, taking lives with terrifying speed.
And Elena…
Elena was suffering from one of them.
The Ashen Bloom.
Just hearing the name was enough to make people uneasy.
It had spread like wildfire in the early years after the apocalypse, killing thousands within months. Those infected would gradually weaken, their bodies deteriorating as if something invisible was draining the life out of them.
Their skin would pale.
Their energy would fade.
And eventually… they would simply wither away.
Anyone who contracted it would die within a year if left untreated.
In the beginning, there was no cure. Entire families were wiped out before scientists could even begin to understand what they were dealing with.
But humanity adapted—as it always did.
A cure was eventually developed.
It should have been good news.
It was good news.
But not for everyone.
Because the cure wasn't free.
It wasn't even affordable.
It cost an absurd amount of resources to obtain. And for people like Jordan…
That made it nearly impossible.
Elena was already Nine months into the illness.
Nine months.
Time was running out.
"What are you making that face for?"
Elena's weak voice suddenly pulled Jordan out of his thoughts.
He blinked, startled.
"Oh… good morning, Big Sis. I didn't know you were awake," he said, trying to compose himself.
"Of course I'm awake," she replied softly. "I heard you waking up from your nightmare again."
Her eyes, though tired, carried a quiet awareness.
"Are you not taking your pills?"
"And who said I had a nightmare?" Jordan replied quickly, looking away.
But his voice lacked conviction.
Because it was true.
Every night, he relived that cursed moment—the night he lost his parents… the night he nearly lost his life.
It never changed.
It never faded.
And because of that, Jordan had come to rely on something.
A pill.
A product of post-apocalyptic science, designed to suppress dreams and ensure deep, uninterrupted sleep. It was meant to be optional—something people used occasionally when they needed good rest from a stressful job.
But for Jordan…
It had become necessary.
Without it, sleep meant nightmares.
And nightmares meant suffering.
"Don't try to fool me, Jordan," Elena said, her tone firm despite her weakness. "I know you've been having nightmares again. My question is—are you taking your pills?"
Jordan hesitated.
Then sighed.
"I ran out a few days ago."
"Then why haven't you gotten more?" she asked, concern creeping into her voice.
"Big Sis… the pills aren't free. We need crystals to buy them," he replied quietly.
"But I thought you had some," she pressed. "The pills only cost one Veil Crystal per batch."
Jordan clenched his jaw slightly.
"Big Sis, we can't waste crystals. We need all of them for your cure."
Elena stared at him for a moment before sighing weakly.
"Jordan… how many Veil Crystals do you have?"
"…Twelve," he admitted.
"And how many does my cure cost?"
Jordan paused.
"…Six thousand."
"Good," she said softly. "Then how exactly do you plan to turn twelve into six thousand?"
Her words weren't harsh.
But they hit hard.
"Come on, Sis," Jordan replied, trying to stay firm. "I'll find a job. I'm eighteen now—I qualify for one."
"But I thought you wanted to become a Beast Hunter?"
Jordan fell silent.
Beast Hunter.
In the new world, that title meant everything.
When the apocalypse began, something else had appeared alongside the chaos.
Mana.
A mysterious energy that filled the world, giving beasts their unnatural strength.
But humans adapted.
Some humans learned to harness mana.
Those individuals became something more.
They became cultivators.
And for them, a profession was created.
Hunters.
Hunters stood at the top of society. They fought beasts, gathered resources, and earned immense wealth and influence.
It had always been Jordan's dream.
To become strong.
To become a Hunter.
To give his family a better life.
But dreams required time.
And time… was something he didn't have.
Becoming a Hunter meant training—at least a year in a hunter's academy before he could even begin earning.
A year.
Elena didn't have that long.
She had, at most… three months left.
"Hey," Elena said gently, noticing his silence. "Stop overthinking. I'll be okay. I don't want you worrying about me."
"But Big Sis…" Jordan stepped closer, his voice tightening. "I can't just sit here and do nothing. I can't watch you like this."
His hands clenched at his sides.
"Even if you tell me not to do anything… I won't listen. I'll do whatever it takes to save you."
Elena smiled weakly.
A fragile, tired smile.
But one filled with warmth.
Before she could respond, the sharp sound of a ringing phone broke the moment.
Jordan quickly reached for his phone and glanced at the screen.
Caller ID: Elly.
He answered immediately.
"Hey, bro," Elly's voice came through, fast and urgent. "You said you wanted a job that pays a lot of crystals, right?"
Jordan's expression sharpened instantly.
"Yes."
"Well… I found one," Elly said. "The pay is huge. Big enough to get your sister's cure when it's done."
Jordan's grip tightened around the phone.
"But," Elly continued, his tone turning serious, "it's dangerous. Really dangerous."
There was a brief pause.
Then—
"So… are you in?"
Jordan glanced back at Elena.
She was watching him.
Even now.
Even like this.
He forced a small smile, masking everything inside him.
"Of course I'm in," he said lightly. "But you're going to have to fill me in."
"Good. Meet me at our lucky alley in twenty minutes."
"No problem."
The call ended.
Silence returned.
Jordan lowered the phone slowly, his hands tightening around it.
His heart was already racing—but this time, not from fear.
From something else.
Hope.
Desperation.
Determination.
This was it.
An opportunity.
Maybe the only one he would get.
From the very beginning, he had never really had a choice.
So he would take it no matter the risk.
Because for Elena he would do anything.