Tower System

The air in the department store was thick with the metallic stench of decay. Broken shelves and shattered glass littered the floors, casting jagged shadows in the faint light filtering through a cracked skylight. Dinl crouched near the entrance, his knife glinting faintly in his hand. Behind him, Zeke, Sarah, and Jake followed closely, their weapons raised and their eyes scanning every dark corner.

"Why here?" Sarah asked, keeping her voice low.

Dinl didn't look back. "The zombies are concentrated here. Easy points."

Sarah frowned, gripping her crowbar. "Easy for you, maybe."

Zeke chuckled, striding up beside Dinl. "She's got a point. Not all of us have your talent for looking like we know what we're doing."

Dinl ignored the jab, his focus shifting to the groans growing louder in the distance. He signaled for the group to spread out but stayed where he was, taking a moment to review his system interface.He opened his system interface with a thought, the translucent blue screen flickering into view:

Stats:

Level: 11

HP: 88/88

Strength: 13

Stamina: 24

Endurance: 13

Defense: 6

Agility: 16

Speed: 14

Luck: 1 (Fixed)

Stat Points Available: 2

He studied the numbers carefully. The progress from his earlier fights was steady, but each stat increase had been deliberate. Agility and stamina were his priorities—they'd kept him alive during the relentless waves of zombies. Strength and speed followed close behind, giving him the power to strike effectively and move quickly in tight situations.

Endurance and defense were low but necessary. Dinl preferred to dodge attacks entirely, but no plan was foolproof, and a few points in survivability had saved him from more than one close call.

The two unspent stat points weren't a mistake. They were his fallback—an emergency measure for moments when every second counted. He'd learned in his first life that spending points recklessly often led to regret.

Finally, his gaze rested on Luck, forever fixed at 1. Below it, the familiar note read:

"Luck cannot be increased through stat points. Growth depends on external factors."

Dinl's lips tightened. He remembered the frustration of his first life, wasting time trying to unlock a stat he couldn't control. Luck wasn't something he could rely on—it wasn't reliable at all. The Tower had taught him that much. Skill and preparation were his currency, not chance.

With a flick of his wrist, the interface disappeared. "Dinl?" Jake's nervous voice broke his focus.

"I'm fine," Dinl said, his tone cold. "Let's move."

The group worked their way through the store cautiously. Dinl dispatched zombies with quick, efficient strikes, his movements practiced and precise. Sarah and Jake followed his lead, taking down stragglers while keeping close. Zeke, however, wandered off toward a toppled display case, something glinting beneath the debris catching his attention.

He crouched, brushing away the shattered glass to reveal a sleek black dagger, its blade etched with faint runes that pulsed with a dim blue light. A grin spread across his face as he picked it up, turning it over in his hand.

"Well, well," Zeke muttered. "What do we have here?"

Jake, glancing nervously over his shoulder, approached cautiously. "That thing doesn't look normal. Maybe you should leave it alone."

Zeke scoffed. "Relax. It's just a weapon. What's the worst that could happen?"

"It's system-bound," Dinl's voice cut through the air as he appeared beside them. His cold gaze fixed on the dagger. "Put it back."

Zeke raised an eyebrow, smirking. "Why? Afraid I'll be stronger than you?"

Dinl stepped closer, his tone sharp. "Weapons like that are shortcuts. Powerful, sure, but they're not yours. The system owns it, not you. You want real power? Build something that's truly yours."

Zeke twirled the dagger lightly, the grin on his face faltering slightly. "What, like you have?"

"Not yet," Dinl said coldly, turning away. "But I will."

Jake frowned, his bat resting on his shoulder. "A shortcut doesn't sound so bad, though. Isn't it better to use whatever you can to survive?"

Dinl's knife gleamed in the dim light as he paused. "Shortcuts have a cost," he said, his voice steady. "The system gives you power, but it takes something back. Always. If you rely on what it gives you, you'll never escape its control."

"Maybe I don't need to escape it," Zeke said, his voice lower now, tinged with defiance. "Maybe I just need to win."

Dinl said nothing, his expression unreadable, and turned back toward the darkness ahead.

The group prepared to move deeper into the store. Zeke lingered behind, the faint blue glow of the dagger pulsing in his hand. A grin tugged at his lips as he muttered under his breath, "Shortcuts work just fine."

Dinl glanced back at him, his gaze cold and calculating. The cracks were forming in the group, and Dinl knew better than to ignore them.