***
World's Monster History
***
Pandemic Date: March 1st, 2030
Disease Name: CONTAGI-30
It started with a nosebleed.
On March 1st, 2030, the world met its worst nightmare—not through war, not through fire—but through a virus. One that didn't just kill… it changed people.
The disease was called CONTAGI-30. At first, it looked like any other illness: fever, fatigue, and that one odd symptom—persistent nosebleeds. But within two weeks, the infected would lose everything that made them human. Their minds snapped. Their bodies twisted into monstrous forms. And once they turned, they didn't stop until everything—and everyone—around them was gone.
In just a few weeks, Earth was unrecognizable. Cities fell. Governments vanished. Streets filled with monsters instead of people. Humanity was outnumbered, outmatched, and out of time.
Then, something… strange happened.
Just as the last sparks of hope began to fade, a deep robotic voice echoed across the sky. Every survivor, no matter where they were, heard it.
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> [System initializing…]
[Initialization complete.]
[Congratulations, survivors of the apocalypse.]
[Each of you has been granted a unique skill.]
[Please check your personal holographic interface.]
---
No one knew what it was. A higher being? Some kind of advanced AI? A cruel joke from the universe? Theories spread like wildfire, but answers never came.
What did come… was power.
Right after the message, a glowing screen appeared in front of every survivor—a holographic interface displaying their personal stats and a unique Skill. Some got enhanced strength. Others could heal, create, or destroy. No two Skills were the same. And while everyone had one, they could only see their own.
From that day on, everything changed.
With these powers, a new breed of fighters rose from the ashes. They called themselves Hunters—those brave (or crazy) enough to take the fight to the monsters that nearly ended the world.
But the comeback wasn't easy.
Of the 10 million people who survived the initial outbreak, more than two-thirds didn't make it. Some died. Others turned. And even with Skills, there was no truly safe place. Not yet.
But Hunters don't quit.
Through years of battles, bloodshed, and sheer willpower, the remaining Hunters did what once seemed impossible—they built a haven. A walled sanctuary, massive in scale, large enough to hold the last spark of humanity.
They named it Ambrosia.
Protected by towering walls and reinforced by generations of survivors, Ambrosia became the last stronghold of mankind, roughly the size of Australia and home to the final four million people.
Inside those walls, life slowly returned. Children laughed again. People smiled again. There was peace, however fragile.
Ambrosia became more than just a safe place—it became a symbol.
Proof that even when the world falls apart… humanity always finds a way to fight back.
***
I read through the information carefully, making sure I absorbed every detail. This wasn't the kind of stuff I could afford to miss.
After a few minutes, I finally leaned back and let out a long breath.
"Holy shit," I muttered.
That was absolutely insane. While reading, I hit several moments where I was convinced humanity was completely screwed. The virus turning people into monsters, cities falling, governments collapsing... it sounded like game over.
But then some mysterious system showed up out of nowhere and basically saved everyone's ass at the last second. Talk about timing.
Without those powers, humanity would've been wiped out completely. No question about it.
Anyway...
"So I'm in Ambrosia," I said, trying to process everything.
A walled country the size of an entire continent. Four million people living inside, protected from whatever nightmares were still roaming outside.
Wait. That didn't sound right.
Only four million people in a place the size of Australia? That seemed way too small.
I quickly rechecked the date. March 1st, 2030. That was when the pandemic started.
"System, what's today's date?" I asked.
A holographic screen appeared immediately.
[Today is February 1st, 2130, Host.]
My eyes widened.
A hundred years? It's been a whole century since the pandemic?
That changed things completely.
"When exactly were Ambrosia's walls built?" I asked, needing to understand the timeline better.
[The walls were completed in 2067, Host.]
So about sixty-three years ago. That made more sense. Four million was just the number of survivors who built the place, not the current population.
"What's the population now?" I asked. "How many people actually live in Ambrosia today?"
[As of February 1st, 2130, Ambrosia's population is approximately 112.1 million people.]
"Okay, that's more like it," I said, feeling relieved.
Over a hundred million people. That sounded a lot more reasonable for a city this size. The walls had clearly done their job, giving humanity the safety it needed to rebuild and grow again.
From four million survivors to over a hundred million in just sixty years. Not bad for a species that almost went extinct.
I clicked the "Back" option at the bottom of the screen and returned to the main list the system had given me.
There was still so much information to go through. This was going to take forever.
I looked down at myself, then around the disgusting room. My clothes were just as filthy as everything else in here.
"God, I smell like garbage," I muttered, sniffing my shirt and immediately regretting it.
Yeah, no. There was no way I was sitting here reading through all that information while smelling like this. First things first, I needed a shower and clean clothes. Then I could focus on learning about this world.
I got up from the bed and headed for the door. Not the bathroom door, though. I had something else to check first.
When I opened the door and stepped out, my jaw almost dropped.
The hallway was absolutely stunning. Marble floors, expensive paintings on the walls, golden light fixtures. Everything screamed luxury and wealth.
It was so fancy that I almost forgot the disaster zone I'd just walked out of. Hard to believe my trash heap room was connected to this palace-like hallway.
"Typical rich people," I said under my breath. "Always have to show off, don't they?"
Though I guess I was technically one of those rich people now. The third richest family in the world, according to those memories. Still felt weird to think about.
Anyway, I needed to call someone first.
There was someone who could help me with this mess of a room. I needed to get it cleaned before I did anything else.
I stepped into the hallway and called out, "Allen!"
The moment the name left my mouth, I felt a rush of wind sweep past me.
What the hell was that?
Before I could figure it out, a voice spoke from behind me, nearly giving me a heart attack.
"Yes, young master. How may I assist you?"
The voice was perfectly professional, but that wasn't what shocked me.
When did he get here?
I spun around to look back into my room. A man was standing right beside my bed, hands clasped behind his back like he'd been there the whole time.
He was middle-aged and surprisingly handsome. Short white hair styled perfectly, not a strand out of place.
Fair skin, a well-groomed beard, and the kind of face that looked both distinguished and approachable at the same time.
His butler outfit was crisp and spotless, making him look like he'd stepped out of some high-class magazine.
He stood there with perfect posture, a polite smile on his face, like appearing out of thin air was completely normal.
This was Allen, Michael's butler.
Though calling him just a butler didn't feel right. According to these memories, he was so much more than that. He cared about Michael more than anyone else in this world. More than Michael's own father, that was for sure.
When Eoin Frostburne basically abandoned his son after his wife's death, Michael fell apart completely. He locked himself in his room for years, cutting himself off from everyone and everything.
But there was one person who never gave up on him.
Allen.
He was the only one who kept checking on Michael during those dark years. Day after day, he'd knock on the door, bring food, try to start conversations even when Michael wouldn't respond. He never stopped trying.
And eventually, it worked.
Allen was the one who helped Michael climb out of that pit of self-hatred when he turned sixteen. Without him, Michael probably would have stayed in that room forever, slowly wasting away.
The memories showed me just how much Allen meant to the original Michael. Over the years, his constant care and almost overprotective attitude had earned him a special place in Michael's heart. He wasn't just a butler. He was family. The only family Michael felt he had left.
Honestly, who wouldn't feel that way?
If I'd been in the original Michael's position, I would have done the same thing. Actually, no. I would have been more open about how much Allen meant to me. I would have told him.
Michael's respect for Allen had grown stronger over the years. He'd started seeing Allen as the father he wished he had. The father who actually cared about him.
But Michael never said any of this out loud.
The guy never even thanked Allen properly for saving him from those dark years. Not once. All because he was too embarrassed to show that kind of vulnerability.
"What an idiot," I muttered under my breath.
"Young master, are you alright?" Allen's voice pulled me from my thoughts.
I realized I'd been staring at him for way too long.
"Yeah, Allen, I'm fine," I said quickly, shaking off the awkwardness. "I called you because I need this room cleaned. The whole thing. Can you handle that?"
Allen's eyes moved past me, scanning the disaster zone behind me. If he was surprised by the state of it, his face didn't show it.
"Of course, young master," he said smoothly. "I'll have the staff attend to it immediately. In the meantime, might I suggest the guest bathroom down the hall? I can have fresh clothes prepared for you there."
I nodded. "Yeah. That works."
***
I stepped out of the guest bathroom, steam trailing behind me.
God, that felt good. First decent shower I'd had since waking up in this world.
I looked around the guest room and almost laughed. The bed was bigger than my entire room. Actual furniture. Clean walls. A chandelier hanging from the ceiling.
A guest room. For visitors. And it was ten times nicer than where the son of the family slept.
"Unbelievable," I muttered.
The clothes Allen had left were folded neatly on the bed. Simple but expensive-looking. Black pants, a white button-up shirt, nothing flashy. I threw them on quickly. Perfect fit.
I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and stopped.
"Damn... I really do look handsome."
Even in my previous world, I didn't look this good. This body was something else entirely. Sharp features, clear skin, the kind of face that belonged on a magazine cover.
Purely in terms of appearance? Easy ten out of ten. And that was excluding powers and skills.
Not bad at all.
Suddenly, I noticed the balcony.
The curtains were pulled back, revealing glass doors leading outside. Curious, I walked over and pushed them open.
The view hit me like a truck.
The mansion stretched out below me in every direction. White marble walls, gold-trimmed rooftops, fountains scattered across a garden so massive it looked like its own park. Trees lined every pathway. Flowers I couldn't even name filled the spaces between.
This wasn't a house. It was a small city.
But what caught my attention was beyond all of it.
In the distance, towering over everything, was the Wall.
Ambrosia's Wall. The thing keeping humanity alive. It stretched across the horizon like a mountain range made of concrete and steel, so tall it seemed to scrape the sky itself.
How did they even make something like this?
I understood they must have used skills to build it.
But seriously... how?
The sheer scale of it was beyond anything I could wrap my head around.
I stared at it for a few more seconds, then finally tore my eyes away.
Enough sightseeing.
I pulled up my system interface.
Time to finish reading.
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