Zane barely reacted at first. The Zane of this world had no real connections—no family, no close friends. So when someone called his name, he instinctively assumed they had the wrong person.
He turned, expecting a mistake. Instead, a boy his age was waving at him, a wide grin on his face. Recognition hit like a delayed shockwave—Jack. His childhood friend.
The memories surfaced, tangled and distant. Jack looked at him like nothing had changed, like they had spoken just yesterday. But Zane didn't feel the same connection. It was like watching someone else's life through a window.
Jack jogged closer, his boots scuffing against the stone pavement. He was bulkier than Zane remembered—broad-shouldered, muscular, with tanned skin from years of outdoor combat. His dark brown hair was cropped short, and a thick leather pauldron rested on one arm. A sword hung at his waist, the hilt well-worn from constant use.
He looked like a fighter.
Zane's gaze flicked past him to the city—a strange fusion of medieval and modern. Stone streets met towering skyscrapers. The Safe Zone had evolved into a functioning society, but the divide was unmistakable.
The rich lived in luxurious villas in the inner district.
The poor were crammed into the outskirts and slums.
Survival was dictated by power.
You could work petty jobs inside, join an extermination team to fight weaker monsters, or sign up with a guild for better rewards. But in the end, everything revolved around CP—the system's currency.
Small business owners bought raw materials from the system to manufacture goods, but their quality never matched system-made products. The only industry that thrived was food—because while ingredients were cheap, a good cook could turn them into meals for less than what the system charged.
It was strange. A functioning society built inside an apocalypse.
But Zane didn't care. Building an empire would be too boring. He could do that anytime. His goal was different—to beat God's Game.
He exhaled, finally focusing back on Jack. Something didn't add up.
Jack and his family had moved away from Safe Zone 15 long ago, relocating to Safe Zone 18. So why was he here in Safe Zone 35? Business? Safety? It didn't matter.
Zane wasn't interested in rekindling friendships.
Jack was nearly in front of him now. Should I just ignore him? Or at least hear him out?
He decided on the latter.
"You tell me," Zane finally replied, his tone unreadable. "Where have you been?"
Jack smiled. "Doing well. Didn't expect to run into you here, though. Small world, huh?"
Zane considered the gesture. Just friendly small talk? Guess I'll play along.
"Yeah, it has been a while. What have you been up to?"
"Came here with my party to sell some monster materials we got from a dungeon raid. We're just staying temporarily," Jack said.
Zane raised an eyebrow. "I thought monsters puffed into nothing when they died?"
Jack shook his head. "Only after 24 hours or during the night. Dungeons are different, though."
Useful to know.
Jack glanced at him. "What about you? Do you live here?"
Zane shook his head. "No, but I'm about to register."
Jack nodded. "Got it. What have you been up to lately?"
"The usual. Killing monsters to survive."
Jack chuckled. "Heard you've been working solo. If you want, I can talk to my party leader—see if we can get you in."
Zane blinked. We haven't spoken in years, and he's already offering help? Then it clicked—right, the original Zane helped him a lot before. So this was Jack returning the favor.
Zane wasn't interested in joining a party, but having guild connections might be useful later. He nodded. "That'd help. Solo work's been stressful."
Jack grinned. "Alright, I'll ask him. What's your class and level?"
Zane hesitated. A weird question, but it made sense for party registration. "Assassin. Level 43."
Jack's eyes widened. "Wait, you're solo and at 43? That's insane. Even party players struggle past 40 unless they're dungeon diving."
"You must've been grinding hard, huh?"
Zane shrugged. "What about you? What's your class and level?"
Jack ran a hand through his hair. "Level 68, Warrior class."
"Anyway, I'll message you tomorrow. Let's share contact info," Jack said, opening his system menu.
Zane frowned. "Wait. Does adding contacts reveal stats?"
["No, it just works like a phone,"] the system replied in his head.
That raised another question—could the system be hacked? If contacts were just like phones, did that mean messages could be intercepted? Modified?
He pushed the thought aside for now and exchanged contact info with Jack.
"Alright, I'll let you know what my leader says. See you tomorrow." Jack waved and left.
Zane watched him go, then turned back to the city, already thinking ahead.
Based on the former Zane's memories, registering in a Safe Zone required heading to the City Square. That's where newcomers claimed citizenship and were assigned a place to set up a building—unless they were broke. In that case, they were shoved into the slums.
He sighed. Guess I should head there before checking out the guild.
"System, where's the registration building?"
[Access Denied. You must be a citizen or possess a map chip.]
Zane frowned. That was new. A map chip? The former Zane never mentioned needing one. Maybe it's just how this Safe Zone works? Either way, I can still ask around.
As he continued walking, his stomach suddenly growled. Right… I haven't eaten.
Opening the system store, he scrolled through the food options. 500 CP for a bowl of rice. 700 CP for a single skewer.
He blinked. That's just outright robbery.
Sure, he had the CP, but he wasn't about to let the system scam him. Instead, he followed the scent of grilled meat, leading him to a bustling food market. Stalls lined the streets, each offering something different—steaming soups, sizzling meats, fresh bread.
One stall caught his eye, its owner flipping skewers over an open flame. A full plate of food for 700 CP.
Same price as one skewer from the system store.
Now that was a deal. He sat down, ready to eat.