Tower System

Two days. That's all the time I had before the Tower consumed this world again.

Two days later 

I stood in the orphanage's cramped room, a place I had once considered my sanctuary. The faint smell of mildew lingered in the air, clinging to the warped wooden floorboards and yellowed walls. In my hands, I held a small pocketknife—a pitiful weapon compared to the arsenal I would need to survive what was coming.

In my first life, I had stumbled into the Tower unprepared, like a lamb to the slaughter. I had trusted others, leaned on friendships, and followed foolish ideals. It had led me to betrayal, to pain, to death. But this time...

This time, I wasn't a lamb.

I tightened the straps of my bag and stepped outside. The sun was high in the sky, casting long shadows across the cracked sidewalk. Children played on the orphanage lawn, their laughter grating against my ears. How blissfully ignorant they were.

At the corner store, I spent the last of my pocket change on a chocolate ice cream cone. The vendor smiled as he handed it over, his weathered face kind.

"Enjoy, kid," he said.

I didn't bother to respond.

The sweetness of the ice cream did little to distract me as I walked to the park. My mind churned with calculations and plans. The preliminary round of the Tower's trial was brutal—a zombie wave designed to thin the herd. The weak, the slow, the stupid—they wouldn't last long.

I sat on the grass, watching as the world around me continued in its fragile normalcy. People walked their dogs, children played on the swings, and an old man read a newspaper on a nearby bench. None of them had any idea what was coming.

When the last of my ice cream was gone, I set my new watch to count down two hours. Then I lay back and closed my eyes, letting my mind drift.

In my first life, I had faced this trial with nothing but the clothes on my back and a basic system-issued weapon. It had been chaos. But now, armed with knowledge of the future, I had an advantage. I had prepared.

The knives in my bag weren't much, but they were better than the fragile weapons the system would hand out. I had drawn a map of key locations, noting places where the horde would be densest. The points I earned for killing zombies would be critical—they were the currency of survival.

The alarm jolted me upright.

"Riiing riiing riiing."

I reached out to silence it, only to hear a voice that made my blood boil.

"What a coincidence," Jingsu sneered. The middle school bully stood over me, flanked by his gang of lackeys. His smirk was as infuriating as I remembered.

I didn't bother answering. My focus shifted immediately to the rumbling beneath my feet. The ground trembled, faint at first but growing stronger with each passing second.

"What the hell's going on?" one of Jingsu's lackeys stammered.

The sky darkened, clouds swirling unnaturally as a deep, resonant voice echoed from above.

"Welcome, Participants."

The air buzzed with energy. People around the park froze, their faces pale with confusion and fear.

"This world has been selected for integration into the Tower. You will face a preliminary trial. Those who survive will be granted entry."

Screams erupted as the voice faded, replaced by the low, guttural groans of the undead. Zombies—slow-moving, rotting, and relentless—emerged from the shadows.

The first wave had begun.

I ignored the panicked cries around me and opened my system interface with a single thought.

"Open stats."

The translucent screen appeared before me, listing my attributes.

Stats:

Level: 1

HP: 24/24

Strength: 9

Stamina: 20

Endurance: 10

Defense: 4

Agility: 10

Speed: 10

Mana: Locked

Luck: 1

Stat Points: 3

My stats were as pathetic as I remembered, but I wasn't concerned. The knowledge I possessed was worth more than any stat points.

"What the hell is this?" Jingsu shouted, his voice tinged with panic as he stared at his own glowing interface. His gang was equally lost, their bravado crumbling in the face of the unknown.

"Strong survive, weak die," I muttered, echoing a lesson the Tower had taught me long ago.

I stepped forward, knife in hand, and approached the nearest zombie. It moved slowly, its decayed limbs jerking unnaturally. Its empty eyes locked on me, hunger radiating from its grotesque form.

With a calculated strike, I drove the knife into its skull. The blade slid through bone and brain with a sickening crunch, and the creature crumpled to the ground.

System Notification:

"First kill! 100 points awarded."

"Level up!"

The familiar rush of leveling up surged through me, sharpening my senses and quickening my reflexes.

This was only the beginning.

I turned toward the horde, my lips curling into a faint smile.

Let the others run. Let them scream and cower.

I was ready.