The second goblin died screaming.
Someone brought a fire extinguisher down on its skull until the canister burst, white foam coating the street in a sickening parody of snow. The creature twitched once, then went still.
The blue screens reacted instantly.
[EXP Gained.]
[Level Up!]
Cheers erupted.
Actual cheers.
Rook stared in disbelief as the man who'd killed it raised his arms, laughing hysterically while blood dripped from his sleeves. His status window glowed brighter than the others, numbers ticking upward like a slot machine paying out.
"I got a skill!" the man shouted. "Holy shit, I got a skill!"
People surged toward him, fear twisting into something uglier—envy.
The screams hadn't stopped. They were spreading.
Across the intersection, another rift tore open. Then another. Creatures spilled out in ones and twos—wolves with glowing red eyes, goblins clutching rusted blades, things that moved too fast and too wrong.
The street became a killing ground.
Some people ran. Some fought. Some tripped and didn't get back up.
And every time something died, the System rewarded it.
[EXP Gained.]
[EXP Gained.]
[Level Up!]
Phones came out.
Rook saw it happening in real time—people filming through shaking hands, narrating breathlessly as if this were still something that could be uploaded, shared, explained away.
"This is insane—this is insane—" a woman sobbed into her phone as a goblin lunged at someone behind her. "Guys, I just leveled up! I just—"
Her recording cut off in a spray of red.
A new notification pulsed across Rook's vision.
[Global Shop Unlocked – Limited Access]
[Credits Available Upon Monster Elimination]
Weapons. Tools. Consumables.
The crowd surged again—this time not away from the danger, but toward it.
"Wait, if we kill more, we get stronger!" someone shouted.
A man in a gym tank top laughed, gripping a shattered table leg like a club. "Bro, it's like an RPG!"
He charged a wolf.
The wolf took his throat out in one bite.
The laughter died.
Rook backed away slowly, eyes scanning, cataloging. The System messages kept coming—too fast, too loud, too indifferent to the carnage unfolding.
People were dying before they understood what their stats meant.
Cars burned. Alarms wailed. Somewhere nearby, a building collapsed with a thunderous crack as something massive slammed into its side.
And still—still—people kept fighting in the open.
They clustered together, chasing levels, shouting numbers, comparing stats between screams.
Rook's gaze drifted to the edges of the city.
Away from the crowds.
Away from the rifts.
Away from the chaos.
The System wasn't rewarding bravery.
It was rewarding survival.
A goblin leapt from between two overturned cars, shrieking as it charged him.
Rook grabbed the crowbar from the back seat without thinking.
The impact jarred his arms to the bone. The goblin went down thrashing, and Rook brought the crowbar down again—harder this time.
It stopped moving.
His screen pulsed.
[EXP Gained.]
[Level Up!]
[Level Up!]
Rook didn't cheer.
He didn't smile.
He stared at the corpse, then at the blood on his hands, then at the burning city reflected in his windshield.
All around him, people were discovering power.
Rook was discovering something else entirely.
The road ahead was empty.
And for the first time since the sky had cracked open, he made a decision.
He got back into his car.
And drove away from everyone else.