As the door opened, Zane made a decision: kill only the swordsman and leave. He was the only one who'd seen his face.
But the building suddenly tilted.
The floor buckled beneath them. "What the—" one of the winged figures shouted as gravity took over.
They jumped. The first winged man activated his flight artifact immediately, wings bursting from his back in a shower of golden light. The second followed suit, his identical necklace blazing.
The other two—no flight artifacts—looked at each other. They had seconds to decide. They linked arms, trusting the winged ones to carry them.
Zane jumped too, moving through the falling debris with precision.
As they climbed through the chaos, rubble rained down mercilessly. A chunk of concrete clipped the first winged man's wing. He gasped in pain but kept moving, adjusting his angle to dodge the falling debris.
The second winged man pressed forward toward the swordsman, weaving between falling rubble.
Zane spotted the swordsman midair, about to be rescued.
Not happening.
Zane hurled debris—then more debris. Each piece was redirected with brutal force toward the swordsman's direction. The winged man dodged one chunk, then another, struggling to maintain course.
Then a massive shadow fell across him.
He looked back and saw it, a colossal piece of concrete, hurtling straight at him and the swordsman. In that instant, he had to choose—save the swordsman or save himself and his companion.
He abandoned the swordsman and surged toward the other survivor, pulling him clear.
The massive debris came down.
The swordsman's scream was cut short.
When the dust settled, three figures stood on the rubble—the two winged men and the one they'd saved. The swordsman was buried beneath tons of concrete.
Zane watched the swordsman plummet into the rubble below.
He confirmed the body wasn't moving. He was dead.
Then Zane activated Shadow Merge and vanished into the chaos.
Zane walked through the quiet streets, the cold night air brushing against his skin. He stretched his arms above his head, joints popping softly.
"This has actually been an eventful night," he muttered, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
By the time he reached his apartment, the adrenaline had fully faded, leaving behind a heavy, bone-deep exhaustion. He stepped inside and let the door shut behind him, the lock clicking softly in the silence.
He paused in the kitchen, staring at the cabinets.
What should I eat…?
The thought barely lasted a second.
"…Nah. Don't feel like it."
He headed straight to his bedroom and dropped onto the bed, arms folded behind his head as he stared at the ceiling.
I should write things down, he thought. A diary. Everything that's happened since I arrived in this world. And more importantly… how to break this game.
Things I might explore in the future, especially the 15 Archfiends, which are the key to winning the game.
He sat up and reached for something to write with.
At the top of the page, he wrote the title:
How to Break God's Game
After jotting down past events, he began listing things he wanted to explore next.
1. The system sign-up bonus error. Note to self: the system behaves strangely at times and shouldn't be fully trusted—almost as if it has functions designed to sabotage players.
2. The Denji Dungeon, and Jack's invitation. I think Jack might be a member of Tiger Heart, but I'll ask him later.
3. Skill set: The system sometimes awards skills that are useless. Out of my 40+ skills, I could say only 10-20 are useful; the rest feel more like party tricks, so low expectations from there.
4. Kai: Kai might be useful to some degree, but I need to make him acknowledge me as someone not to be betrayed as to lower the risk of a backstab.
5. Exploring other zones, especially that religion zone where they treat the archfiend as God, might get a huge clue to defeating them.
6. Titles: Now I might not use these a lot because I am more in the moment, but I should always remember the Archfiend curse.
I think that's all for now. Oh yeah, about the boss and ruler, yeah, they're not much of a threat, so I shouldn't really care much.
Then he dropped the book in his system storage, took a shower, and headed to bed, waiting for what tomorrow will have in store for him.
Beep, beep.
Zane woke to the shrill sound of his alarm and let out a tired yawn as he pushed himself out of bed. He rubbed his temples, still half-asleep, when a distant commotion caught his attention.
Frowning, he stepped onto his balcony to get a better look.
Police vehicles crowded the slum below, their lights flashing as officers moved through the narrow streets.
Zane listened carefully to the chatter drifting up from the crowd. From what he could gather, it had something to do with the casino collapse.
The authorities had obtained an image from a security camera near the casino, but the suspect's face wasn't visible. All they had was a rough description—so now they were sweeping the slums, searching for anyone who matched it.
But Zane didn't care. Technically, the chaos outside had everything to do with him—he was the one who brought the casino down—but that didn't make a difference. He went through his usual morning routine as if nothing had happened, then headed downstairs for breakfast.
After a simple omelette, he bought a set of casual jogger clothes from the system shop, changed quickly, and stepped outside. Stretching lightly, he started his morning jog, completely unbothered by the police sweep happening just streets away.
As Zane jogged past the line of police cruisers, a voice cut through from behind.
"Hey, you there—stop."
Zane slowed. Then stopped.
A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.
He didn't turn around.