Kaito stood at the edge of the rooftop, three floors above the narrow backstreets of his district. A cool morning wind drifted in, carrying the distant scent of fried noodles and cheap coffee from nearby stalls. The city below looked… normal.
Cars moved. People argued. Phones rang. A couple of students bickered over a baseball card. Somewhere, someone was yelling about a sale on discount socks.
It was all so painfully mundane.
And it made him sick.
Three days. That's all he had until the world broke. Monsters. Zombies. Screams. And death—the kind that stuck to your skin like smoke. But no one knew it. No one could feel it. Except him.
He pulled his coat tighter and turned away from the edge.
He had work to do.
Back inside the bunker-shop hybrid, he reviewed the new quest.
[Quest: Prepare for the Collapse] Objective: Establish functional resource chains and safeguard the store. Sub-Tasks:
Stock emergency items × 100 units (43/100)
Reinforce shop defenses (0%)
Recruit at least one part-time helper (0/1)
Place decoy signs to mislead looters (0/3)
Reward: +50 Coins, +1 Inventory Slot, New Blueprint: Portable Barrier Wall
He rubbed his temples. "Recruit someone? Now? They'd just think I'm insane."
[Meri: Suggestion: Target outliers. The eccentric. The paranoid. The unemployed.]
Kaito grinned. "So basically, me?"
[Meri: Correct.]
The next few hours were spent chasing deals and trash. Literally.
Kaito scoured alleyways, recycling depots, even the backroom of an abandoned karaoke bar. He bartered ramen cups for rope. Found a bucket of clean rainwater on a forgotten balcony. Picked up three decent backpacks from a pawn shop with no customers.
Each new addition got logged by the system. Each item added weight to his sense of control.
He needed that.
By noon, he'd filled two crates with supplies and traded three of his original coins for more water purification tablets. The guy he bought them from had no idea their real worth.
And he wasn't going to tell him.
Not when the world was three days from ending.
He returned to the shop and updated the item count.
[System Notice: 66/100 emergency items stocked.]
The more he worked, the more efficient he became. Patterns formed in his mind—how to stack, label, hide, arrange, even how to balance the shelves to optimize accessibility under duress. He placed flashlights near the door, medicine near the center, water near the back.
He made note of where heavy boots should go—somewhere easy to grab, somewhere visible. Tools like hammers and crowbars went into crates under the counter, each tagged with a colored marker for quick access.
[Meri: Efficiency increase detected. Organizational Insight skill increased by 0.8%.]
He paused to sip cold tea, staring blankly at the entrance.
It didn't feel like a shop yet. Not fully. It felt like a fallout shelter dressed up in desperation.
He needed to go deeper.
So he trained.
Again.
[Simulation: Supply Chain Management – Initiated.]
The world around him shimmered. Now he stood inside a virtual warehouse. Pallets of boxes stretched to the ceiling. Forklifts beeped in the distance.
The voice of a stressed-out clerk rang in his ear.
"We're out of iodine tablets, demand is spiking!"
"Transfer from Sector 3," Kaito barked back.
"Sector 3 is locked due to gang activity."
"Reroute via rooftop zipline—drop it in a sealed pack from the eastern ridge."
[Response: Tactical. Efficiency Score: 82%.]
The simulation ran him through crisis after crisis—missing goods, angry buyers, fake products, hijacked routes. He had to learn it all. Fast.
By the end, his shirt clung to his back with sweat.
[Skill Progress: Supply Management +6.4%.]
He returned to reality more prepared, more mentally sharp.
But not less afraid.
That night, he dreamed of teeth.
Gnashing. Grinding. Biting through bone.
He woke drenched in sweat, heartbeat pounding against his ribs like a warning bell.
The countdown continued.
Day Two.
The air felt different. Not panic. Not chaos. But… pressure.
Something building.
Kaito spent most of the morning reinforcing the shutters. Steel rods, homemade latches, even a tripwire system that'd set off fireworks if someone tried breaking in. Not elegant. But functional.
He fashioned makeshift barriers from furniture and steel pipes. He placed buckets of nails under the counter and wired them to bells. Primitive, but sound was a powerful deterrent.
[Meri: Shop Defense rating increased: 24%.]
"Makes me wonder what 100% looks like."
[Meri: Armed turrets and an anti-magic barrier.]
"…Good to know."
He paused to eat half a sandwich, watching the street through a dusty window. Kids laughed below, kicking a soccer ball between rusted mailboxes. He didn't want them to die.
Not this time.
He glanced down at his to-do list. The fake signs were next. He'd already gathered enough scrap wood and paint.
By afternoon, he was halfway through crafting fake shop signs. One read "TAX OFFICE – DO NOT ENTER." Another: "WE SELL CABBAGE."
Nobody loots cabbage.
The last one just said, "CURSED GOODS – FREE FOR GHOSTS."
He posted the first sign near the alley corner, the second near a public mailbox, and left the third right at the corner facing his actual entrance.
He checked his quest log.
[Progress: 87/100 Items Stocked | 52% Defenses | 3/3 Fake Signs Placed | 0 Recruits]
Close. But not done.
Night fell, and with it came the storm.
Rain slammed against the rooftop, battering the rusted shutters like angry fists. The world groaned under the weight of thunder. Kaito sat with a lantern by his desk, sorting first-aid kits and taping batteries to flashlights.
Every hour, he ran a new checklist.
Every hour, he found something missing.
He paced, muttered, then sat. Repeated. He looked at his hands, wondering how much more he could do before the collapse began.
[Meri: Fatigue levels rising. Recommend: Light rest.]
"I can't."
[Meri: Recommend: Compromise. 45-minute meditation module.]
"…Fine. But after I finish this batch of bandage kits."
At 2 a.m., he opened the old notebook he kept from his high school days. He flipped past essays and doodles, landing on the contact page.
One name stared back at him.
Ayame Sera.
Someone who talked to herself more than she talked to people.
Someone who collected rocks like they whispered secrets.
Someone who wouldn't blink twice if he told her the world was ending.
[Meri: You are permitted to disclose the system under controlled circumstances. Potential ally approval required.]
"I remember she used to rant about energy lines under the school."
[Meri: Highly compatible.]
He smirked.
Tomorrow.
He'd find her.
And if she believed him… maybe he wouldn't have to do this alone.
Day Three was coming.
And the world would burn.
But he had a store to run.
And now, maybe someone to help him run it.