A month ago, I woke up bleeding in the alley of Dawnwall Town. One moment I was a nobody on Earth... a junk-food addict with nothing but bad reflexes and worse life and the next, I was lying face-down in a world I'd only seen in martial legends. A voice crackled in my head:
[Your mission: save this world.]
I rubbed my temples. 'Why me?' I asked.
The System laughed.
[Because you're trash on Earth. Completely useless. Here, at least you can be useful.]
Surprisingly, I didn't fly into a rage. Instead, something clicked. If I was going to be called trash, I might as well trash the whole apocalypse.
Over the past month, I learned a few basic things:
This is a Murim world, not the fantasy realms where cultivators float on clouds. Here, martial artists grind through ranks before they even think about flying.
The zombie virus has infected sects and clans. Once-powerful masters stagger through the streets, half-alive but still dangerous.
The System in my head can scan souls, measure combat talent, and pull Earth games into VR simulations to train survivors.
Survivors. That's the word. I had to gather people and teach them how to survive. And before I could do that, I needed a base.
So today, I left Dawnwall behind. The town had its walls, but they were thin and the guards half-dead. I walked into the foothills and reached the edge of the Blackroot Forest.
'This is perfect,' I thought. 'Dense enough for cover. Water nearby. Wild herbs for later.'
My boots crunched on fallen leaves as I set up a rough camp.
Jinmu opened the panel, its faint glow casting light over his dirt-smeared hands. A line of text blinked into view.
[Mission: Locate a suitable area to establish shelter.]
'So it begins,' he thought, eyes scanning the wild horizon.
'Better find somewhere before nightfall.'
After walking for what felt like hours, Jinmu finally stumbled upon a clearing—quiet, wide, and hidden deep within the forest. The sunlight filtered weakly through the canopy above, painting the mossy ground in fractured gold.
'This should do,' he thought, catching his breath.
He faced the air as if addressing something unseen.
"This is the spot," he said firmly.
[Location confirmed. Beginning shelter protocol.]
The moment Jinmu confirmed the location, the ground trembled softly beneath his feet. Lights flickered in the air, lines of data etching themselves into reality.
The construction began, not brick by brick, but in flashes, in layers of pure light and code. It was fast—insanely fast. Within minutes, a structure stood before him where there had once been nothing but moss and trees.
A sleek, modern convenience-store-like building shimmered under the canopy. Its clean lines and polished glass panels felt completely out of place in the wilderness.
He stepped inside and froze.
Ten high-end computers were neatly arranged in rows, each accompanied by a VR helmet resting on a sleek stand. The air smelled of fresh plastic and synthetic coolants.
'What... is this place?' he thought, wide-eyed. 'This is my base? This... feels like home.'
For the first time in a month, he felt something ease inside his chest. Ever since he was thrown into this bizarre new world, he had lived like an animal... no real shelter, no proper bathroom, no peace. But now...
[Base established. Congratulations.]
[Reward: 1 Spin – Game Roulette.]
He almost laughed.
'Finally.'
No sooner had Jinmu taken a step inside his new base than the panel flickered to life once more.
[New Mission: Locate survivors in the surrounding area.]
A soft chime echoed as the screen shifted to a new interface, showcasing rows of glowing game icons. A message followed.
[Games accessible through the VR system are immersive to an extreme degree. Highly realistic. Highly free. Enter at your own risk.]
Jinmu frowned. "What do you mean, 'at your own risk'?"
[Warning: This system does not prevent psychological damage. Mental strain during gameplay is possible. Proceed with caution.]
He felt a chill, but curiosity tugged at him. The next section explained more.
[Games are ranked by tier. Tier 1 is suitable for non-combatants or those with minimal combat experience. Higher tiers increase in intensity, realism, and danger.]
Jinmu sat down on the padded chair beside one of the computers, fingers brushing against the smooth VR helmet.
[Each game session consumes Crystals—currency used exclusively in the VR world. Crystals are rare and usually hoarded by the wealthy.]
'Of course,' he thought bitterly. 'Even in another world, money rules everything.'
[Daily playtime is restricted to 8 hours to prevent qi deviation. Overuse may result in spiritual backlash.]
Qi deviation—he'd heard whispers of it in the villages he'd passed through. Cultivators whose minds shattered from overexertion or internal imbalance. The idea of it happening from a game was disturbing.
Still, he couldn't deny the excitement rising in his chest.
'Find survivors, huh?' he thought, tightening his grip on the helmet. 'Guess I won't be playing just yet.'
Jinmu sat down and tapped the spinning icon that pulsed gently on the panel.
[Spin Initiated…]
The roulette whirred to life, flickering through countless titles. To his surprise, many of them were familiar—Stardew Valley, Outlast, Dark Souls, and others he'd once played long ago, back when his world still made sense.
'These are from Earth...' he thought, heart beating a little faster. 'But how?'
The roulette spun faster, a blur of color and sound. Then, with a mechanical click, it stopped.
[Selected Game: The Forest — Tier 1: Survival Category.]
A chime rang in celebration.
[Congratulations. Game downloaded.]
[Game Description: A realistic survival simulation involving base-building, hunting, crafting, and mutant encounters. Highly immersive. Requires 1 Crystal per hour of play.]
Jinmu leaned back in the chair, still processing everything, when another message appeared.
[Note: User has no inherent talent in combat or cultivation.]
He blinked. "Gee, thanks."
[To increase your personal level, you must rely on others. When players enter your games and use Crystals, a portion will be converted into EXP and energy for you.]
[You receive 10% of all Crystals spent in your hosted games.]
He stared at the panel, lips tightening.
'So I'm not a warrior. Not a mage. Not even a cultivator. Just... a game host.'
Still, it was something. In this chaotic world, survival was already a victory, and this system, strange as it was, had just handed him a lifeline.
He looked back at the flickering game title: The Forest.
'Alright,' he thought, eyes narrowing.
...
Days passed.
Jinmu sat outside the base, staring at the treetops as wind stirred the leaves above. The VR equipment inside remained untouched, ten seats, ten helmets, and not a single customer.
He hadn't seen a single Crystal, not even once in the month since he'd arrived in this world. In fact, most people he'd come across could barely feed themselves, let alone afford something as luxurious as a virtual experience.
'Of course no one's coming,' he thought, letting out a long breath. 'Who the hell has Crystals out here?'
The Forest, once a familiar game from his old life, now felt like a mistake. He had chosen it blindly, without understanding how things worked here. It wasn't flashy, not combat-heavy, not the kind of game desperate survivors would spend their last Crystal on.
He kept up his routine, scavenging, securing the area, checking the system panel, but each day bled into the next with nothing to show for it.
Almost a week passed. His food supplies were running thin.
He stared at the system shop, eyes hovering over the blinking image of a ration pack.
[Cost: 5 Points]
[Points Available: 7]
'Only two meals left if I use this now.'
His fingers hovered over the "Buy" option, but he hesitated.
Points were hard to earn. The only way he could get them was by killing zombies—and lately, even they had stopped showing up near his base.
[Note: 1 Point per low-ranked zombie kill.]
He grit his teeth.
'I'm trapped in a peaceful forest with no food, no players, and no damn zombies to kill.'
For the first time, the shiny base around him felt hollow. All the high-tech wonder meant nothing without people. Without survival.
And worst of all, hunger was creeping closer, quiet and patient.
He sighed, rubbing his face with a tired hand.
...
The sound of snarling and trampling feet thundered behind her—close, too close.
Branches whipped against Seo Mira's face as she sprinted through the dense underbrush, her breath ragged, her uniform stained with blood, some hers, most not. Her sword was chipped, her qi unstable, and her vision blurred at the edges.
She was a Fourth Stage Blood Manifestation Rank Warrior.
The difference between warriors and cultivators lies mostly in how they use their qi.
Warriors are fighters at heart, using their bodies and weapons, like swords or fists, to channel their qi into raw physical power. They are up close and personal, relying on strength, speed, and mastery of martial techniques.
Cultivators, on the other hand, are more attuned to the mystical side of qi.
They use their energy to cast spells, control elements, or manipulate their surroundings from a distance. While warriors focus on direct confrontation, cultivators work with the world's unseen forces, often engaging their enemies through long-range attacks or even subtle influence.
Despite their different methods, both paths are equally powerful in their own right, one relies on the might of the body, the other on the force of the mind and spirit.
...Twelve years. Twelve years she'd served the Qinghe City Lord without question. She had bled, killed, and followed every command. She'd believed in loyalty. In honor.
But now, here she was.
'You used us,' she thought bitterly, leaping over a fallen log.
'You used us as bait.'
Her squad, men and women she'd eaten with, trained with, bled with—were all gone. Devoured in the chaos of a mission that was never meant to succeed.
She had seen the fear in their eyes, the confusion, as the signal to retreat never came. As the tide of infected broke over them like a wave.
She had seen her vice-captain die first. Screaming.
And now she was the last.
'I'm sorry,' she thought, eyes burning. 'Liran… Bae… Jeong… I should've seen it. I should've fought harder.'
But there was no time for grief. The horde was still behind her, relentless and hungry.
Her body ached, her qi thinned, but her legs kept moving, driven by sheer will and the hollow rage burning in her chest.
The trees began to thin. Light peeked through ahead... maybe a clearing.
Or maybe her grave.
She didn't care anymore.
If she was going to die, she would die with her blade in her hand.