October 21st, Tokyo, Ikebukuro. 4:48 a.m.
In the darkness of the bedroom, the phone suddenly began to vibrate. The sound wasn't loud, but in the stillness of the night it felt unbearably irritating. Half-asleep, Ayn heard it, but he was far too tired to care. He just turned over, intending to go back to sleep. Yet the phone refused to stop, buzzing on and off for several minutes, as if deliberately trying to get on his nerves. Finally, unable to take it anymore, he reached for the phone beside his pillow, squinting at the screen, muttering to himself about which idiot was up this late making noise. The screen lit up with a familiar name: Ari.
His mind wasn't fully awake yet; the name looked familiar, but it took him a few seconds to register who it was. Then it hit him—it was his sister. But she never called at this hour. The thought flashed through his foggy mind, then was quickly swallowed by sleepiness again. He half-consciously thought it probably wasn't anything serious and could wait until morning. He let go of the phone, set it back beside the pillow, turned over, and drifted off again.
However, the phone didn't stop vibrating. The constant buzzing went on, over and over, making it impossible for Ayn to fall back asleep. Eventually, his patience snapped. Furious, he grabbed the phone again, answered the call, and shouted, his voice thick with anger, "What the hell is wrong with you!? It's the middle of the damn night! Why the hell are you calling me!? I have work tomorrow, damn it!"
He had expected Ari to immediately apologize, say a few calming words, maybe chat for a moment, and then hang up. But things didn't go the way he thought they would. On the other end, Ari's voice came through, fast and tense, filled with both panic and a strange relief: "Finally! You actually picked up! Where are you right now? At home? Or outside!?"
Ayn didn't answer right away; his anger hadn't cooled down yet, and his tone was still filled with irritation: "Are you out of your mind!?"
Ari didn't bother to argue. From his groggy, annoyed tone, she could tell he'd just been asleep and that her call had woken him up. In other words, he was still at home and hadn't gone anywhere—which also meant he had no idea what had been happening outside for the past few hours.
Ari took a deep breath, her voice turning even more urgent: "Listen to me! Tokyo's in chaos! People online are saying there are zombies! I'm not kidding—there are videos, pictures, even live streams! I saw posts saying Ikebukuro isn't safe either! How's it over there? Do you hear anything outside!?"
After hearing what Ari said, Ayn froze for a few seconds, then cursed under his breath, "You've lost your mind," and hung up the phone. Why did he say that? Because zombies? What a joke. Reality wasn't an anime, a movie, a novel, or a game—where would zombies come from? Who in their right mind would believe something like that? In his eyes, Ari was simply out of her mind, staying up in the middle of the night just to talk nonsense.
But Ari didn't give up. A few seconds after he hung up, the phone started vibrating again. At first, Ayn ignored it, planning to go back to sleep, but that constant buzzing was like a mosquito in his ear—it wouldn't stop and made him completely unable to rest. The longer it went on, the more awake he became, and as his thoughts gradually cleared, he began to sense that something wasn't quite right.
First, based on what he knew about his sister, Ari would never call at this hour. Why? Because she should be asleep too—she had work the next morning, didn't she? Second, although Ari sometimes liked to tease him, she always knew when to stop. She was also perfectly aware that he had been suffering from insomnia recently; just a few days ago, she'd even suggested he see a doctor.
So would she really joke around at this time of night? The more Ayn thought about it, the less it made sense. A faint unease began to rise in his chest, pushing him to sit up in bed. He clawed at his hair a few times in irritation, then picked up the call again, his voice sharp: "You'd better have a real reason for this, or you're dead."
On the other end, Ari was clearly angry too. "You think I'd stay up at this hour just to mess with you? Use your damn brain for once!"
Ayn didn't want to argue anymore. He rubbed his forehead and sighed, his voice heavy with fatigue: "What is it then? Does Mom need money again, or is it something else?"
Ari sounded even more agitated now: "I told you already—it's zombies! There are zombies in Tokyo! You don't believe me, right? I'll send you the pictures. There are tons online! Just wait!"
Ayn sighed again, convinced his sister had completely lost it. But a few seconds later, his phone buzzed, and several images arrived.
The first was a blurry street photo: a figure facing the camera directly, skin pale and cracked, eyes vacant, and a dark stain of dried blood at the corner of its mouth. It didn't look human at all. The second image showed several similar figures sprinting through the street while panicked crowds scattered in all directions—the scene looked like something ripped straight out of a movie. The third image froze him for a moment: a few zombies crouched over bodies, tearing into them with their teeth, dark red smears spreading across the pavement.
Of course, Ayn wasn't stupid. He still doubted the photos were real. Why? Because of AI. In this era, artificial intelligence could already create images and videos that looked indistinguishable from reality. Ayn himself often scrolled through AI-generated erotic photos, so realistic that it was nearly impossible to tell they were fake. Naturally, his first thought was that these pictures were just another online hoax made by bored people, and Ari had simply fallen for it. Determined to prove it, he started examining the images closely, trying to find signs of AI generation to end this ridiculous conversation.
But before he could look too long, another message came in from Ari—this time, not pictures, but a video: It was daytime, and it was clearly not Japan. The video shook violently from the start, obviously recorded with a head-mounted camera. The person filming was running for their life. His heavy breathing and frantic footsteps were loud and clear, and the camera bobbed with every movement, occasionally sweeping past the sides of the street where panicked crowds were fleeing in chaos. Suddenly, a sharp scream split the air. The cameraman instinctively turned, and the footage caught a horrifying scene: a white woman was tackled to the ground by a zombie, its teeth clamping down on her neck as blood splattered across the pavement. The man let out a terrified cry, the camera shaking wildly as he broke into a full sprint. Everywhere around him people were running in panic, bodies lay scattered across the street, and several zombies were crouched over the remains, tearing at the flesh. The entire video looked horrifyingly real, with no trace of acting or AI fabrication anywhere.
After watching the video, Ayn swallowed hard. The images and sounds were so vivid they made his scalp tingle. No matter how advanced AI had become, it still couldn't produce something this real. With that thought, he immediately said to Ari, "Wait a second. I'm going to check outside." Ari's reply was brief—only two words: "Be careful."
After putting down the phone, Ayn got out of bed, intending to see what was happening beyond his apartment. He was about to turn on the bedroom light, but in the next instant, a strong instinct surfaced in his mind—don't turn on the light; it's dangerous. The feeling came from nowhere, yet it was so clear that he froze mid-motion. Abandoning the idea of turning on the light, he walked quietly toward the balcony, careful to keep his steps light.He slowly pushed open the sliding door, making sure the rails didn't make a sound.
As soon as the door opened, a gust of cool wind swept into the room, carrying the faint wail of distant sirens. It was unmistakably the sound of police cars, though still far away. No wonder he hadn't heard them earlier. Ayn stepped out onto the balcony and leaned against the railing, peering down. The street below was completely deserted—no police cars, no zombies, not even a single person in sight. Only a few streetlights glowed faintly, casting pale light over the empty road. Then he looked farther ahead, toward Ikebukuro Station—the busiest area in this part of the city. But now, that entire area was shrouded in darkness, the outlines of tall buildings barely visible against the night sky. As for whether there were zombies or people fleeing down there, he couldn't tell at all.
He stood there silently for a few seconds, then decided to stop looking and head back to the bedroom to tell Ari what he saw. But just as he turned to leave, his body froze. The reason was simple—something appeared in his field of vision that shouldn't exist. A translucent window floated in the air before him, displaying the words: [System loading... 0%... 10%... 20%...]
From 0% to 100%, the entire process took barely half a second. Everything happened so quickly that Ayn didn't even have time to react. When he came to his senses, the system interface had already finished loading, and a new screen appeared in front of his eyes: [Welcome to the System. Current version: V1.0. Would you like to learn about the rules and functions of Version 1.0? You have five seconds to decide... 5... 4...]
At first glance, it looked as if the system was politely asking for his consent, giving him the freedom to choose. But there was one problem—the screen showed only one option: [YES]. There was no "NO" anywhere. On top of that, the countdown left him no time to think. Before Ayn could even process what was happening, the timer hit zero. In that instant, a torrent of information flooded into his mind, overwhelming and suffocating. It was like his brain was being filled all at once, and in less than a second, he completely understood the system's functions and rules. (Author's note: The details of those rules and functions will be revealed gradually in future chapters.)
Once the contents of System V1.0 had fully formed in his head, Ayn's initial shock turned into sheer elation. Why? Because he knew exactly what a "system" meant. He had read countless web novels featuring systems—it meant power, wealth, status, and authority. It represented the ultimate goal of humanity, a miracle capable of completely changing one's fate. If things went well, living for hundreds or even thousands of years was no longer a fantasy. And not only that—it also meant eternal youth and perfect health, things that kings, billionaires, and world leaders had chased for lifetimes in vain.
But what truly thrilled him wasn't the promise of power or longevity. It was one particular function within the system: [System: Follower]. Once certain conditions were met, he could grant the system to others. What did that mean? It meant that the two people he cared about most—his mother and Ari—could also gain access to the system's abilities. They could regain their youth, their health, and their vitality. His mother's long struggle with illness would finally have a solution.
The realization hit him like a wave of light. Ayn nearly burst out laughing. The joy that rose within him came straight from his soul, raw and uncontrollable. But he forced himself to calm down, took a deep breath, and tried to steady his thoughts. As his emotions slowly cooled, a question surfaced in his mind: Why me? Why was I the one chosen? He asked the question silently, and the system's answer appeared at once: [Because you are lucky. That is the reason.]
Did Ayn believe that? Not at all. He couldn't accept that something like this could be pure coincidence; there had to be another reason behind it. Still, he decided not to dwell on it for now—for two reasons. First, no matter why the system had chosen him, it was undeniably a blessing. For him and his family, it was a once-in-a-lifetime chance to change their fate, and for that, he was grateful. Second, he now understood one of the system's unbreakable rules: if the system's host abandons the system, they will also abandon their own life; and all System Followers will die with them.
So, was there any point in wondering why me? Maybe, but on October 21st, that question didn't matter. Ayn took a deep breath and temporarily set aside his doubts.