He didn't have time to reflect on that disturbing mental image because — thud… thud…
The heavy footsteps returned.
Ash froze.
They were slow, uneven, like the thing was dragging its leg. It had to be the demon from earlier.
"Oh, come on," he whispered, clutching the jagged stick in his hand — his proud Excalibur, aka a random log he found on the ground and sharpened like a caveman with student debt.
He pressed his back against the trunk of a nearby tree, its bark rough against his skin.
The footsteps got closer.
The creature exhaled like a bear on a respirator — raspy and ragged.
Definitely injured. Probably still pissed. Fantastic combo.
Ash held his breath.
He was one solid heartbeat away from making his move.
Maybe he'd sneak up and stab it in the spine. Yeah. Spinal murder. Totally doable. Totally heroic.
He edged around the tree, slow and silent.
And then — snap.
His foot landed on a twig.
In the apocalyptic silence of the forest, it might as well have been a gunshot, an airhorn, and a toddler screaming at the same time.
The demon spun with a shriek and slashed.
Ash ducked under one energy arc.
Another ripped past his head, cutting a clean line through a tree trunk behind him.
He rolled.
Bark and leaves flew everywhere. "I HATE THIS PLAN!"
A third slash whistled past his arm as he dove forward, coming up behind the demon.
His hands trembled around the rough wood.
"Fucking Demon!"
He lunged.
The sharpened log rammed straight into the demon's lower back with a nasty crunch.
The thing shrieked, spinning, but Ash didn't stop.
Fueled by panic, adrenaline, and petty vengeance, he tackled the monster to the ground, pinning it with the weight of every mistake that led to this moment.
He drove the stick down again.
And again. And again.
"THIS! IS! FOR! JUMP-SCARING! ME!"
The monster's struggles slowed.
Its claws scratched weakly against the dirt, then fell limp.
Ash finally let go, collapsing to the side like a sack of mashed potatoes and poor decisions.
His chest heaved.
His arms were sore. The stick was halfway embedded in demon guts.
He stared at the creature, panting. "…Please tell me that counted."
Ding!
[Demonspawn (Tier 1) Slain – +20 XP]
[Level Up! Lv. 1 → Lv. 2]
[New Skill Gained: Improvised Weapon Mastery (Beginner)]
[New Title Unlocked: "Forest Psycho" – You gain a 2% damage boost with anything made of wood. Trees fear you.]
Ash laughed — short, breathless, a little unhinged. "Forest Psycho? What am I, a lumberjack from hell?"
He wiped blood (hopefully not his) off his hands and leaned back against a tree.
His stomach growled.
"Cool. Slayed my first demon, unlocked a weird dating sim battle pass, and now I'm starving. This is just like college, but with more violence and slightly better skill acquisition."
Ash glanced up at the sky, which was still doing its weird half-day, half-night thing.
The stars were visible, but there was a faint glow, like some divine god forgot to dim the lights.
He sighed.
"…Still haven't seen another human. Or a girl. Or food. Or water. Or a bed. Or a charger."
The Demonspawn on the ground popped — and not in a "boom goes the dynamite" kind of way.
It was more like a dramatic soap bubble, if the soap bubble had just tried to murder him five times in the last ten minutes.
Ash blinked at what was left. "Is that… loot?"
He circled around it cautiously.
Yep, definitely loot.
Glowing too, like this was some kind of MMORPG with serious death consequences.
There was a sword — long as hell and dripping with edge.
Its blade shimmered with a faint red gleam, demonic engravings crawling across its hilt like gothic graffiti.
It radiated bad decisions and power. Just his type.
The Apocalypse System pinged open in his mind with a bright, cheery chime that felt wildly inappropriate for the moment.
[Would you like to take the loot Demonspawn left behind?]
"Yeah. Obviously," Ash muttered, waving his hand dismissively. "What do I look like, a pacifist monk?"
The loot vanished in a flash of light, and the Equip screen appeared in front of him like a magic tablet interface straight out of some bootleg JRPG.
[Equipped: Bloodreaver Fangblade]
"Okay, that's the most metal name I've ever heard," Ash said, holding the sword up.
It was surprisingly light for something that screamed 'I eat souls for breakfast.'
The System chimed again.
[Note: Equipped weapons can be summoned back instantly, regardless of distance. Even mid-flight.]
"Wait — like Thor's hammer?" Ash grinned. "You serious?"
He tossed the sword casually.
It spun through the air, curving like a blade in a shonen anime — then zing — he summoned it back with a thought before it even touched the ground.
It boomeranged straight into his waiting palm, humming with energy.
"Oh my god," he laughed. "I am so going to abuse this."
Still chuckling, Ash made his way deeper into the forest.
His legs ached, his shirt was ripped from demon evasion, and his cheek still stung from the earlier near-decapitation.
But morale? Impeccable.
That's when the other system — the more… romantically inclined one — popped up.
[Hot Single In Your Area!]
Ash paused, eyebrow twitching. "Bro, I swear if you just Rickrolled me mid-apocalypse…"
He rounded a tree and stopped dead in his tracks.
There she was.
The girl.
The one from the classroom. Long brown hair. Electric blue eyes. Ridiculously large assets that defied the laws of gravity and his GPA.
She was backed up against a tree, looking absolutely terrified as two greasy, wide-eyed men loomed over her like wolves spotting a steak in a vegan buffet.
"Heyyy now," one of the guys was saying, licking his lips in a way that made Ash's skin crawl. "It's the end of the world, sweetheart. No one's gonna come save you…"
And then Ash's brain switched off.
Or maybe on. Whatever the opposite of coward mode was, it activated.
His eyes narrowed. "Hey, dickbags!"
The two men turned, eyes narrowing at the stranger with a glowing red sword and murder in his eyebrows.
"Who the hell are you supposed to be?" one of them scoffed.
Ash didn't reply.
He just spun Bloodreaver Fangblade once in his hand and said, "Someone with nothing to lose and a sword that literally vibes with blood."
The goons weren't that bright, apparently.
One charged forward, fists raised like this was a schoolyard brawl.
Ash ducked under the punch, jammed the hilt of his sword into the guy's ribs, and then flat-out Sparta-kicked him into a bush.
The other guy tried to stab him with what looked like a sharpened spoon, but Ash spun around, slashing in a clean arc and knocking the weapon from his hand.
The second guy froze.
"You can leave," Ash said. "Or I can test whether this sword crits against cowardice. Your call."
The dude bolted.
Ash let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding and turned to the girl.
She was still frozen in place, eyes wide, breathing fast.
"Hey," Ash said, lowering the sword. "Are you okay?"
She stared at him.