The System Notification faded, but the unease lingered like smoke. Arthur stared at the air where the words had just hovered, blinking slowly, as if hoping the apocalypse would finally take the hint and uninstall itself. Jun was still gawking at the last line — "Party Member Added: [Jun]" — like he'd just been accepted into the world's most dysfunctional adventuring guild.
Lena said nothing for a while. She stood with arms crossed, watching the corner of the room like the System might throw another notification at them if they moved too fast.
"...Well," she muttered eventually, "that's not ominous at all."
Arthur groaned and sank further into the couch. "Great. So we're officially a party now. Just what I always wanted. Shared inventory and lifelong emotional baggage."
Jun smiled at him, irritatingly sincere. "You don't actually hate this, do you?"
Arthur closed his eyes. "I've hated things less. Like dental surgery. Or drowning."
The system's update wasn't just cosmetic. The temperature in the room felt colder now, and the silence outside was wrong—like the city was holding its breath. The weak tutorial monsters hadn't been easy, but they'd been... predictable. This was something else. Something smarter.
Lena grabbed her gear — the crossbow, a pair of sharpened metal rods that looked like repurposed curtain rods, and a backpack full of stolen granola bars. "We need to move. Fast."
Arthur didn't argue. He hated how his feet started moving without protest. Maybe he was just tired of trying to die in this particular building.
They left the penthouse behind and descended carefully through the ruined stairwell, boots crunching glass and plaster. The sun had started to rise, blood-orange and wide like a sick joke. As they reached the street, the first signs of the post-tutorial world greeted them: melted pavement, a bus flipped onto its roof, and a corpse with no visible wounds — just a look of confused horror frozen on its face.
Arthur stepped around it. "Lovely. We've hit the scenic part of the apocalypse."
They followed Lena's lead as she wove them through back alleys and shattered storefronts. She moved like someone used to being hunted. Jun tried to keep pace, but his backpack was half his body weight and twice his coordination. Arthur, for once, didn't slow down. If Jun wanted to follow him to death, he could at least work for it.
They reached a collapsed supermarket by midday. Half the roof had caved in, but the underground storage basement looked intact — at least from the outside. Lena scanned the perimeter like a hawk. "Might be supplies. Might be death. Let's find out."
Arthur shrugged. "That should be the title of this whole apocalypse."
They climbed through a gap in the concrete. Dust filtered down in thick clouds, and somewhere deep below, something moved. Not footsteps — skittering. Rhythmic. Like something crawling on too many legs.
Lena dropped into a crouch. "We're not alone."
Arthur's stomach twisted, not from fear — he was used to fear — but from the deep, existential dread that whatever was down there would not kill him fast enough.
"Split up?" Jun offered helpfully.
"God, no," Arthur and Lena said at the same time.
They crept through the lower level. Shelves were toppled, cans scattered, a stack of water bottles unopened in the back. Lena started grabbing supplies with brutal efficiency. Jun followed, stuffing packets into his coat.
Then they heard the breathing.
Not human. Not even animal. Deep, rattling exhales that shook the walls and sent rats scurrying.
A shape moved behind the freezer aisle.
Arthur froze.
It looked like a man. Or had been, once. But its skin was pale and stretched thin, ribs like blades pressing out against the surface. Its face was wrong — too many teeth, too wide a grin. And its eyes glowed a soft, intelligent red. This thing hadn't been part of the tutorial.
The monster tilted its head.
Arthur muttered, "I don't suppose anyone packed holy water and a chainsaw?"
The creature charged.
Lena fired — bolt straight to the chest. It barely slowed. Jun tripped over a bag of flour, yelling. The thing lunged—
And Arthur grabbed a shopping cart and shoved it hard into the aisle.
Not at the creature — at a leaning metal shelf loaded with canned beans and bags of rice. The cart slammed into the base with a loud clang, and the overloaded shelf tipped.
It wasn't dramatic. It was clunky, awkward, and slow.
But it fell — directly onto the charging monster.
Hundreds of kilos of preserved apocalypse rations crashed down. A can of baked beans hit the thing square in the skull with a hollow thunk.
The creature was buried under a small avalanche of pantry goods.
It twitched once.
Then went still.
Arthur stared at the pile.
Jun whispered, "Did you just kill that thing with... carbohydrates?"
Lena blinked. "You threw a shopping cart."
Arthur exhaled. "I am dangerously competent in grocery stores. It's a curse."
A familiar chime echoed.
> [Hostile Neutralized: Adaptive Phase Mutant - Rank D]
Bonus XP awarded for environmental kill.
Trait Progress Updated: "Unintentional Strategist" [30%]
Party Morale: +1
Group Bond Level: Increasing...
Arthur squinted at the floating message.
"You know," he muttered, "I really miss when shopping was just depressing and not life-threatening."
Eventually, she muttered, "You're not like the others I've met."
"Because I survive?"
"Because you survive on accident."
Arthur stared at the ruined sky.
"I told you," he said, voice low, "I'm not trying to live."
Lena handed him a granola bar anyway.
He didn't say thank you.
But he didn't throw it away, either.