In a dilapidated wooden shack, a frail youth with sallow, sagging skin huddled in the shadows. He was curled up like a cornered hedgehog, clutching a piece of stale bread. Every now and then, he would scrape at it with his teeth, swallowing every hard-earned crumb.
Despite the loaf being dotted with strange green mold, he didn't care; this was the first morsel to enter his stomach in days.
The piece of bread dwindled bite by bite until only a tiny fragment remained. He glared at it with a frown, then let out a heavy sigh as he tossed the last bit into his mouth and headed outside.
The ancient door let out a piercing screech as it opened onto the street, revealing a vista of crumbling houses and the usual muddy paths. It was the same sight he had seen his entire life, accompanied by that rancid stench—a smell so foul it induced nausea no matter how much one tried to grow accustomed to it.
Passersby moved with lifeless faces, clad in tattered rags, scattered everywhere like animated corpses. This was the standard view of the slums. In this place, you would find nothing but despair and agony. Your death could be decided at any moment—a fate no one in this world desired, for what came after was bound to be far worse.
Rayyan sighed as he picked his way through the back alleys until he stood before a small shop in the southern district. A half-collapsed sign swayed in the wind above the entrance, with "Scrap Metal Shop" scrawled across it in crude, weathered handwriting.
As Rayyan stepped through the door, a faint bell chimed. Scrap of all kinds cluttered the corners of the ancient store. In the center sat a moth-eaten desk where an old man sat scratching his nose. Their eyes met, and the old man smirked.
"Oh, the boy Rayyan! Haven't seen you in a while. I was beginning to think a rat like you finally failed to survive these slums."
Rayyan's face soured instantly. "You senile old man, didn't I tell you before not to liken me to a rat?"
The old man looked at him lazily and chuckled. "Heh, everyone knows there's no one that name fits better than you."
Rayyan was notorious—a brazen, difficult brat, and as slippery as they come, making him one of the most detested individuals in the area. Rayyan clicked his tongue in annoyance, unable to deny the truth of it.
"Drop it. Any news?" He asked.
The old man's smile vanished at the question. He gave a grim nod.
"Yes. There are reports of a squad of inner-zone guards gathering at the Northern Wall for a serious reason. There's even a rumor that an 'Awakened Protector' is with them."
Rayyan frowned, lost in thought. "Guards? A Protector? Could it be...?"
Old Zwink cut him off: "Yes, you guessed right. A 'Living Walker' has appeared."
Rayyan froze in his tracks. A Living Walker... those horrific entities capable of leveling a city on their own. And one was roaming just a few kilometers away from him. Rayyan swallowed hard and asked nervously, "Are you sure there's one out there?"
Zwink shook his head. "Not confirmed yet, but the surge of undead outside the wall is the clearest proof of one nearby. As you know... they are drawn to their own."
Rayyan fell into deep thought. Zwink added warningly, "You must be careful during this period and stay within the walls. Going out to scavenge now is a death sentence."
Rayyan nodded, then looked up. "You said the Northern side?"
"Yes... why?"
After a brief silence, Rayyan's lips began to curl, stretching into a grotesque, unnaturally wide grin. He directed it toward the old man, who turned pale and sat bolt upright in alarm.
"W-what is it?"
"An opportunity!" Rayyan exclaimed with sudden fervor. "It's a golden chance that will never come again! If the Northern side is the battlefield drawing all the undead, then the opposite side will be deserted. I can scavenge without those annoying creatures interfering!"
Zwink was stunned. He bolted upright from his chair, pointing a finger at him. "Huh? Are you insane?! How can you risk your life at a time like this? Do you want those monsters to catch you and turn you into one of them?"
Rayyan looked at him boredly. "Don't worry, it's not that hard. I'm not going there to fight a Walker; that's the job for Protectors and guards. What do I care about such troublesome matters?"
Zwink sighed in exasperation. "Ah... you truly are a strange one. Why not just wait until the problem is resolved? You aren't even an 'Awakened.' How can you go there with such indifference?"
Rayyan snapped back, "By then, I'll have missed a golden chance to earn enough money to fill my stomach for days! Do you know how hard it is to scavenge near those cursed things? If my hunch is right, this is my shot... maybe I'll even be able to buy a piece of meat!"
"..."
Zwink fell silent for a moment, then muttered, "Fine, I get it. You're someone who'd rather die than miss a payday. There are always lunatics like you around."
Rayyan tried to shift the mood. "Anyway, any other news?"
"No."
"Really?"
"Yes."
Rayyan grumbled, "Haaah! You old geezer, I'm out here trying to make a living and I need every bit of info!"
"Then go out and get it yourself!"
Rayyan glared at him, fuming inwardly. 'Humph, senile old fool. Why is he mad at me? I just want to make some money! Did I ask him to come with me?' He began pacing in circles within the shop, racking his brain for a way to appease the man.
Suddenly, he stopped, looked at Zwink with fawning eyes, and bowed deeply.
"Ah... Master Zwink. Thinking about it, perhaps going out was a mistake. Who would trade their life for scrap metal? Thank you for reminding me. You truly are a kind man, choosing to guide me rather than profiting from my finds."
Zwink blinked, confused. "Profiting?"
Rayyan continued, "Yes, you are an honorable man. You knew I'd bring all my loot back to sell to you, but you prioritized my safety over—"
"HAAAA!"
Before Rayyan could finish, the old man let out a cry, his eyes wide as he panted heavily.
"Old man Zwink?"
Zwink looked at him with a gaze so sharp it could pierce iron. "My dear Rayyan... as you said, this is a chance to change your life! Your future is more important than anything. Go and make your fortune! Go quickly and don't worry about a thing!"
"But you just said—"
Zwink cut him off with a voice bordering on a wail, "Rayyaaan! Since when do you listen to a senile old man like me? Follow your instincts! Remember your goals... the meat! Yes, think of the piles of meat you'll buy and eat until you're stuffed!"
"..."
A few moments later, Rayyan found himself outside the shop, heading South. He walked as if in a trance, mulling over the new information. He whispered to the horizon, "The Southern side..."
A familiar image flickered in his mind: a massive black statue standing solitary beyond the borders, with hordes of undead crawling around its base.
"Can I reach it this time?"
Rayyan pressed on, the thought burned into his mind.