After reaching Level 3, I felt an unmistakable shift in my body. My muscles were firmer, my movements more fluid, and my strength had surged—I now wielded the power of three ordinary men.
Wasting no time, I pressed forward toward my destination, still twelve miles away. As I walked, I spotted three men approaching from the opposite direction. Two carried swords, while the third casually spun a pistol around his finger.
I paid them no mind and walked past, but just as I took a few steps forward, a commanding voice stopped me in my tracks.
"Hey, brat! Hand over the sword."
The one with the pistol smirked, his tone dripping with arrogance. The other two eyed me with amusement, clearly entertained by what they thought would be an easy shakedown.
I turned back slowly, keeping my expression unreadable.
"If I give you the sword, will you let me go?" I asked, letting a faint trace of fear creep into my voice.
The gunman's smirk widened, mistaking it for submission.
"That's for me to decide."
The two sword-wielders chuckled.
"Boss, the brat's making fun of you."
The so-called "Boss" scowled, clearly irritated. He pointed the gun at me.
"So, you think this is funny?" His sneer deepened. "Now I'm taking your sword and your bag. And after that, I'm gonna screw you up."
To emphasize his crude threat, he made a vulgar gesture—one finger pushing through the hole of his closed fist, laughing all the while.
"Boss, you gotta let us have some fun too," one of the sword-wielders snickered. "I'm tired of using my hands."
"Sure," the gunman agreed, licking his lips. "But only after I get my fill."
Their laughter echoed in the empty surroundings.
"Hahaha!"
I joined in.
Their laughter died instantly. The gunman narrowed his eyes.
"Did you lose your mind? Are you laughing because you're scared we're gonna fuck you up?"
He mockingly pointed the gun at his own crotch, taunting me.
I smirked.
"You fools."
Their expressions darkened with fury. The gunman's finger twitched on the trigger, ready to fire a warning shot—
But I spoke first.
"Sleep."
The moment the word left my lips, the three of them collapsed like puppets with cut strings.
A system message blinked in my vision.
<-40 Mana>
I crouched beside their unconscious bodies, inspecting them. I reached for a rope but hesitated.
"If they wake up and break free, a rope won't hold them."
A cruel thought took root. Instead of binding all three, I tied only the gunman—their leader. Then, gripping my sword tightly, I stood over one of the sword-wielders.
I raised the blade.
For a brief moment, I hesitated. Was it necessary to kill them?
Then I imagined them hunting me down for revenge. If I spared them now, they'd return stronger—and angrier.
My hesitation vanished.
Shing!
A single, decisive slash. The head rolled, blood spraying as the body crumpled.
A familiar ding echoed in my ears.
> [You have slain a Level 2 Human]
<+50 EXP>
<+7,350 Coins>
<+50 mana>
My eyes widened slightly.
"Three thousand coins for just one human? I'd have to kill at least three E-rank awakened monsters for that much. And 50 mana points too?"
I turned to the second man, still unconscious.
"Let's test something."
Stepping toward him, I muttered, "Don't blame me when you reach the other side. You won't be lonely for long—I'm sending your friend to keep you company."
Another swing.
Shing!
Another head rolled.
Ding!
> [You have slain a Level 2 Human]
<+50 EXP>
<+8,500 Coins>
<+50 mana>
I frowned.
"The EXP and mana are the same, but the coins are different…"
A thought struck me.
"Does that mean the amount of coins dropped depends on how much the victim originally had? And if that's the case… the one who lands the final blow gets all their wealth."
A chilling realization dawned.
"Are they trying to make us kill each other?"
"They've already started killing each other for coins. Mana points are just a bonus." I mused in amusement, answering my own question.
---
The man with the pistol groaned as he stirred. A foul stench hit his nose, making him gag the moment he inhaled. He tried to breathe through his mouth, only to realize something was stuffed inside.
Nausea surged as he struggled, but soon, something even worse dawned on him—his hands were bound behind his back, and his legs tightly secured.
He tensed, muscles straining to break free. The rope stretched, nearly snapping—
Then, the cloth was yanked from his mouth, only to be replaced by something hard.
Cold. Metallic. The taste of iron.
"Guess what it is?" I asked, my voice amused.
Instinctively, he licked the object in his mouth. Realization struck.
"My gun," he thought in horror. His muffled voice barely formed words. "Take it out of my mouth!"
"Correct." I chuckled. "Earlier, you said you'd screw me… So I decided to screw you first."
He choked in terror as I shoved the gun deeper into his mouth. His body trembled violently, but before he could protest, something warm and wet spread near his lower back.
The metallic scent of blood filled the air.
His bound hands brushed against something solid in his lap. The texture made his skin crawl.
A head.
His companion's head.
"P-please! Take whatever you want—just let me go!" he sobbed, his voice breaking. Tears seeped through his blindfold, snot dripping from his nose.
"Sure," I said casually. "Just answer a few questions. First, after the apocalypse, where did you and your group stay?"
"W-we are a group of five… We stayed at the Metro City Shelter," he stammered.
My eyes gleamed. "And what about the bag you had? The antique daggers, the pistol bullets, the sapphire crystals?"
"It… it was meant for selling," he blurted.
I clicked my tongue. "Looks like I need to teach you how to talk properly. Why are you stopping after every sentence? And where are the other two?" My voice carried a hint of irritation.
"They already went to Metro City. Metro City's boss… The Invisible Man… he's above Level 10. He sells things through the system, so people bring him rare items to trade. He takes 20 percent of the coins when equipment is sold. But not everything can be sold. The system only allows transactions if the owner willingly gives up the item. That's how the selling system works."
I narrowed my eyes. "How strong is he to earn the name 'Invisible Man'?"
"We don't know exactly… just that he's above Level 10. They call him that because… someone saw him fighting both monsters and humans. Whenever he got serious or injured, his wounds instantly healed—as if they disappeared."
I considered this for a moment before speaking again. "What's your skill?"
"M-my skill?"
"Don't tell me, after getting this far, you're still planning to get a bullet through your skull?" I pressed the gun against his temple.
He gulped. "I'm Level 4. My skill… it's called Suction…"
I burst into laughter. "Hahaha! What kind of name is that?"
He panicked. "That's not what it means! I can suck air from any container, no matter how big or small. If my skill levels up, I could even suck the air out of an open area!"
As he desperately explained, my smirk deepened.
"So, how did you reach Level 4 so easily?" I asked, my voice almost playful. "And don't give me crap about killing monsters. I know you've murdered plenty of people."
The man hesitated, his unease palpable. He couldn't even see me to gauge how serious I was. Not that it mattered.
He had no choice but to go along with whatever I wanted.
"W-we first found people who were weak… abandoned… or somehow separated from their groups," he stammered. "We'd tell them we were taking them to a safe spot… where others were waiting."
His breath hitched. I could almost hear his heart pounding.
"After a day or two, we'd lock them inside an enclosed space. Then I… I'd use my Suction skill to suck out all the oxygen. In moments… they all died."