[Script World – Highschool of the Dead - Prologue]
[Mission 1: Play your designated roles as students and faculty within the academy. Do not allow anyone to discover your status as outsiders or detect behavior that breaks your assigned roles. This objective must be maintained until the initial zombie outbreak begins.]
[Mission 2: All of you are designated as a single team. You share the collective goal of surviving in this apocalyptic scenario for a period of one month. The death of any team member will carry significant detrimental consequences for the survivors. What those consequences are… well, let time reveal them. However, if a teammate is identified as a future liability, and a majority vote is cast to exclude this burden, there will be no system punishment. Furthermore, you will be granted the right to execute problematic teammates.]
The words hung in the air, the clinical tone making the final directive all the more horrifying. They weren't just being thrown into a zombie apocalypse. They were being handed a license to judge—and to kill—each other.
When their eyes scanned the details of Mission 2, their gazes couldn't help but drift, almost involuntarily, toward the bespectacled guy.
Tomoya Aki broke out in a cold sweat under the collective scrutiny.
In a desperate, defensive lunge, he redirected their attention, his own gaze turning ruthless and cold as it landed on the lilac-haired girl who leaned lightly on a slender, elegant cane.
He thrust a shaking finger in her direction.
"W-why are you all looking at me?!" he stammered, his voice rising in pitch. "What about her? She's a cripple, damn it! In an apocalypse, a cripple is dead weight! She's the real liability!"
"Fufufu…" A soft, melancholic laugh escaped the girl's lips.
She lowered her head, a curtain of lilac hair obscuring her face. "I will be sad if you truly think that, Glass-kun. But… if that is the consensus for the team's survival… I…"
Her voice trailed off into a sigh of deep resignation, thick with reluctance and sorrow.
A single, perfect tear traced a path down her pale cheek, the very picture of noble sacrifice.
This time, it wasn't Akira who moved.
The burly mercenary was on his feet in an instant, his massive hand fisting the front of Tomoya's shirt and lifting him clear off the ground with terrifying ease.
"Say that one more time, you little shit," the man growled, his voice a low rumble of pure menace, "and I'll cast my vote to eliminate you right here. See how you like being called 'liability.'"
The contrast was stark.
On one side, a girl who seemed well-behaved, tragically accepting her potential fate for the greater good. On the other, a panicked boy blaming others to save his own skin, utterly blind to his own grating flaws.
Even Yuuki Sakurajima, known for her ice-queen demeanor and elitist standards, felt a surge of contempt.
"Humph," she sniffed, her voice dripping with disdain. "A fortunate thing you are not my son. I pray my daughter never encounters such a spineless scum."
Akira observed the entire scene from his sofa, his expression a mask of cold neutrality.
Had he not possessed his canon knowledge, he, too, might have been taken in, just like the burly man and Mai's mother.
He knew the truth. He knew Arisu Sakayanagi was, at her core, a sociopathic genius—a hollow person whose primary drive was the thrill of the game and her own entertainment, not this delicate, self-sacrificing waif she presented to the world.
Inwardly, he had to applaud her. It was a masterful performance.
Realistic, nuanced, and brilliantly effective.
With a single, perfectly timed tear and a sigh, she had won the team's sympathy, directed all negative attention toward a convenient scapegoat, and camouflaged her own dangerous nature.
What a ruthless and brilliant woman she was.
He loved every second of the manipulation, the subtle chess move played in the opening moments of their deadly game.
But he let none of his admiration show, maintaining his stoic façade as the final ten-second countdown glowed in the corner of his vision.
He clapped his hands once, the sound sharp and final. "Alright, everyone. The clock is ticking. Save the conflict for the zombies."
His tone was neutral, a commander calling focus. "Let the game begin."
With his words, a blinding white light engulfed them without warning, erasing the sterile room.
The disorientation was instant and absolute.
Their journey as Players had commenced, hurling them headfirst into the chaotic, blood-soaked world of Highschool of the Dead.
[Identity: Akira]
[Role: You are cousin of Rei Miyamoto and bad boy in the school, your relationship with Rei is very bad, she didn't like your playboy nature and bad conduct which is contrary what their family motto as police. Your relationship with classmates also very bad, but some girls loved your bad boy persona very much and wanted to be with you. You are lone wolf and womanizer in the school.]
Okay...
It seems he need to play role of playboy in this place realistically since he saw there are consequences that he didn't want to know for breaking roles.
[Identity: Arisu Sakayanagi]
[Role: She is second year transfer student and very kind to every classmates she met, she will help them without hesitation if they need one and she could help them and never asked price for it., of course she could refuse if they asked something that she found it uncomfortable. Every students and teachers love her loveliness and willing to being kind at her in turn, except for some abnormal one.]
A sociopath playing good girl?
Akira was amused and looking forward to it.
Then his gazes turned into Tomoya Aki.
[Identity: Akira]
[Role: You are the cousin of Rei Miyamoto and the resident 'bad boy' of Fujimi High School. Your relationship with Rei is strained to the point of hostility; she despises your playboy lifestyle and delinquent conduct, viewing them as a direct insult to her family's police legacy. Your standing with most classmates is equally poor, though a contingent of girls is intensely drawn to your rebellious persona. You are a lone wolf and a notorious womanizer. ]
Okay... Akira mused internally. It seemed he'd need to lean into the playboy persona here, and convincingly.
The vague but ominous 'consequences' for breaking role were not something he wanted to test.
[Identity: Arisu Sakayanagi]
[Role: She is a second-year transfer student known for her exceptional kindness. She helps any classmate in need without hesitation and never asks for anything in return, though she will politely refuse requests that make her uncomfortable. Students and teachers alike adore her gentle nature and are protective of her in turn. (Exceptions may include individuals with abnormal predispositions.) ]
A sociopath playing the saintly good girl? Akira felt a dark thrill of amusement. He was genuinely looking forward to watching that performance unfold.
His gaze then shifted to the information for Tomoya Aki.
[Identity: Tomoya Aki]
[Role: He is infamously known as the creepy stalker of Saeko Busujima, attending every kendo club session just to catch a glimpse of her, though he's too timid to ever meet her eyes. He is also the cousin of Takashi Komuro, Rei Miyamoto's childhood friend. His relationship with Takashi has grown better since Rei began dating his cousin's best friend. He is universally despised by Saeko, Rei, and Saya Takagi. ]
Akira let out a soft, incredulous chuckle. The roles were almost comically, brutally bad. He had to fight the urge to laugh aloud at the sheer, devastating specificity of it.
Finally, he turned his attention to the others.
[Identity: Yuuki Sakurajima]
[Role: She is a teacher at Fujimi High School and the aunt of Saya Takagi. Born into an elite family, she is aloof, cold, and maintains a rigid distance from anyone she perceives as beneath her social station. Both students and fellow teachers find her difficult to approach, and she only associates with those she deems worthy elites. ]
Well, that's barely a stretch from her real-world persona,
Akira mused silently.
The role seemed tailor-made for her natural demeanor.
His eyes then scanned the final, most disturbing assignment, and a frown etched itself onto his face.
[Identity: FB]
[Role: A transient serial killer and kidnapper operating in the area. He is driven by an insatiable, sadistic need for complete control over his victims. He shows no mercy to anyone unfortunate enough to cross his path after dark. ]
Akira knew a game like this would never be kind enough to hand out comfortable identities. The assignments were a deliberate provocation.
It was clear the system wanted to test their cohesion immediately, dangling the most volatile member as a sacrifice to their fear.
After all, who in their right mind would want a confessed psychopath on their team, even if it was just a role?
The logic was insidious: make them vote once to expel someone they feared, and the precedent would be set. The second vote would be easier, the third easier still, until their fragile alliance tore itself apart from the inside out.
But did he care?
But did he care? Not particularly.
His survival had never hinged on the reliability of others.
He believed in only two things: his own ruthless will and his absolute, defining luck.
And now, it was time to test that luck in this new arena.
He focused inward, initiating his first draw from his Awakening Power: Unlimited Gacha.
A shimmering, golden interface materialized in his mind's eye.
There was a flash of cosmic light, and a result chimed with profound finality.
[Congratulations, Player. You have drawn: 'Demiurge Bloodline (Lucifer)']
[Cooldown until next draw: 1 Month]
So, the better the prize, the longer the cooldown. A sensible limitation. He was fortunate it wasn't something requiring a year or more; being stuck with a single ability in a fresh, deadly game would have been a genuine problem.
A one-month cooldown suggested this was the television series iteration of the power—potent, but not the infinitely scalable comic-book version.
As if confirming his conjecture, the system began streaming detailed information directly into his consciousness.
Bloodline: Demiurge
Description: The Demiurge represents the highest hierarchy among celestial beings in the DC multiverse, a primordial force of creation second only to the Presence. This bloodline grants the wielder: superhuman strength, reflexes, and speed; nigh-immortality; autonomous flight; a transformative Angelic State; supernatural charisma; supreme affinity with light and celestial energies; and myriad latent potentials.
Important Note: The described mastery over core concepts (Creation/Destruction, Light/Darkness, the Void) and the potential to attain states of Omnipotence and Omniscience are theoretical end-points of this bloodline's evolution. They are not currently unlocked or accessible. Achieving such conceptual mastery would require immense personal growth, specific triggers, or further upgrades far beyond this initial inheritance.
Quality: EX
Fuck...
It was more powerful than Akira had ever dared to imagine.
With this bloodline and its inherent skillset, dominating a single zombie-infested world would be trivial—less a survival challenge, more like arranging his own personal backyard playground.
He currently possessed none of the conceptual mastery that made beings like Michael and Lucifer true multiversal constants.
But even without touching those ultimate forces, the raw, foundational power of the bloodline was staggeringly OP for a setting like this.
Superhuman physicality, nigh-immortality, and control over light? He was essentially a demigod being dropped into a B-movie.
A new, thrilling possibility occurred to him.
His Light Affinity... if it was as potent as the description implied, could it purify the zombie infection? Could he cure the bitten? The potential was staggering.
He wouldn't just be a survivor skulking in the shadows.
He wouldn't just be a savior handing out miracles.
No...
A fierce, predatory grin spread across his face.
With this, he wouldn't just play the game.
He would dominate its opening stage.
He would be king of this world!