Riley blinked.

Then chuckled under his breath, a sharp glint in his eye.

"What a way to tell me I've overstayed my welcome," he muttered.

Without hesitation, he said softly, "Yes."

The world around him began to shimmer.

The dark field beneath his feet blurred.

And then—

He vanished in a flash of blue light.

*

Riley reappeared in front of the same abandoned altar.

The stone structure stood just as silent and ominous as before, the blue line circling around it glowing softly, before dimming.

He now stood just outside of it.

Exactly where he'd been when he first accepted the trial.

He exhaled deeply, a light breath escaping his lips as he took a step forward.

"I'm back…" he muttered under his breath, his voice quiet, steady.

There was no audience to hear it.

Only the wind brushing gently through altar, and the soft rustling of grasses in the distance.

And yet, the difference between the person who'd first stepped here—and the one who now stood in his place—was night and day.

Riley slowly turned on his heel and began walking away, his steps unhurried. There was no reason to rush. He had done what he came here to do. More than that, even.

He had survived the trial.

And now… he had a class.

A real one.

An SSS-rank class that would change everything from here on out.

'Now that I've completed my profession trial and gotten a class…' he thought, his eyes narrowing faintly, '[Apocalypse] has pretty much just started for me.'

Up until now, everything had still been the tutorial.

From this point forward, the game would begin to evolve rapidly.

New regions.

New monsters.

New events.

And of course—

New threats.

Things would start to get a lot more dangerous from now on. Much more than most players were prepared for.

But Riley?

Riley simply exhaled again, calm.

With how much he had grown, it wouldn't be a problem.

The others might struggle. Flail. Panic.

But he would not.

He had walked this road before.

He already knew what was coming next.

'The first event of the game should be starting a few days from now,' he thought, his gaze drifting toward the darkening sky above.

His footsteps crunched gently over gravel as he moved forward.

'The Dungeon Opening Event…'

It was tied to the first dungeon ever revealed in [Apocalypse].

A massive, spiraling underground labyrinth known as the Forgotten Depths.

No one knew exactly what triggered it.

The system would simply announce its arrival—and just like that, a massive entrance would tear open in one of the nearby regions.

And with it would come chaos.

Death.

Desperation.

Greed.

And hope.

Because that dungeon… was no ordinary one.

It would be a race.

A full-scale survival challenge.

The first real large-scale PvE raid in [Apocalypse].

A test of coordination, power, and sheer will.

A dungeon designed to weed out the weak from the strong.

To teach players that this world wasn't some casual game.

And players would die.

A lot of them.

All to advance in the dungeon it, and get to the final floor.

All to seize the rewards waiting at the end.

Because the system had made one thing very clear—

Only the one who managed to defeat the final boss and reach the dungeon's end would earn the greatest prize.

Riley's eyes darkened slightly.

He had been there in his past life.

He had entered that dungeon.

He had survived the opening phase.

He had even clawed his way deep into the second layer.

And yet…

He was one of the unfortunate players who lost their lives.

It wasn't that he had been reckless, in fact, he had been extremely cautious not to overstep his boundaries.

However, nothing about the dungeon was fair in the first place.

He had unfortunately gotten caught up in a dumb squabble between two players, and just like that, he died in the game… again.

His memories blurred for a moment as they came crashing in.

'Turbulent' didn't even begin to describe that period for him.

It had been one of the worst times in his first life.

He had tried his best.

Pushed himself to his limits.

Used every skill, every potion, every bit of coordination and strategy he'd learned.

And yet—

Even with his class awakening, even after all his preparation…

Everything still ended in vain.

And the prize went to none other than Terry once again, who grew even more powerful.

His death in the dungeon at the time had broken him, and he was forced to face the realization that he would always lag behind, no matter what he did. Or how hard he struggled.

His fists clenched slightly at his sides as he walked.

But this time…

This time, things would be different.

As Riley stepped back into the bustling streets of the city, the atmosphere shifted almost immediately.

The familiar sounds of footsteps, shouting merchants, and clinking armor filled the air.

Players darted past him in all directions—some excitedly comparing loot, others grimacing as they nursed wounds from recent fights.

The city's energy was as chaotic as ever, but amidst the noise and movement—

He felt something.

A tingle at the back of his neck. A subtle pressure against his senses.

His gaze snapped sharply to the side.

However, he couldn't see anything strange.

Just an overweight NPC standing behind a wooden stall, his wide hands stacked with different kinds of fruits—grapes, oranges, long green stalks, and a purple spiky fruit Riley didn't even recognize.

Riley's eyes narrowed slightly.

'I could've sworn someone was looking at me…'

The NPC suddenly noticed him staring and let out a loud, annoyed grunt.

"If you want to buy something, just buy!" the man barked, his thick voice rising above the crowd. "Don't just stand there like a fool!"

Riley blinked once.

Then exhaled lightly.

The man was short and fat, with stubby fingers and a scowl that looked permanently glued to his face. Judging by the empty baskets at his stall and the bored way he leaned on the counter, it was clear he hadn't gotten many customers.

And now, he was getting frustrated.

Riley smirked wryly.

"…Ohh. Sorry about that," he muttered under his breath, raising a hand in mock apology.

The man simply scoffed in response, turning his head with a sharp huff and folding his arms tightly across his chest.

Riley didn't take it personally.

He wasn't even surprised.

That kind of rudeness was infamous among the traders in this part of the city—especially the ones near the eastern gate.

Most of them had grumpy personalities and temperaments that made even arguing with a stone wall feel like a better option.

It was also why most players avoided their stalls like a plague.

Of course, the dumb NPCs never realized that.

They just kept yelling, kept sneering, kept wondering why no one ever wanted to buy their overpriced apples.

Riley sighed, the brief amusement fading from his lips as he looked away and began walking again.

Still…

He couldn't shake the feeling from before.

That fleeting, cold stare.

That prickling sense of someone's attention brushing against his thoughts.

'Maybe I'm just stressed from the profession trial…' he thought, scratching the side of his neck as he turned toward the main plaza. 'Wouldn't be surprising.'

But—

Unbeknownst to him…

Just behind the fruit vendor's stall, past the shadows where the crates and baskets of rotten produce were stacked—

A thin wisp of dark smoke slowly stirred.

It twisted unnaturally, curling upward like a rising thread of ink.

And then—

It formed into the shape of a man.

He was average in height, yet his presence felt oddly stretched—like a shadow that refused to sit still. He wore a thick black coat that trailed just above the ground, and more thin wisps of smoke seeped constantly from its sleeves and collar, vanishing before they reached the light.

A large hoodie was pulled low over his head, fully obscuring his face.

Even now, as the smoke flickered around him, no one noticed.

Not the nearby players.

Not the sharp-eyed guards.

Not even the other traders standing a few feet away.

To them, he was simply empty air.

Invisible.

Insignificant.

His lips curled up faintly beneath the hood, the grin barely visible through the thin veil of darkness.

"He managed to sense me…" the figure muttered, voice low and smooth. "What an interesting player."

His head tilted slightly, gaze locked on Riley's distant back as he walked away.

"I can understand how Hart died at your hands."

When he first heard Hart was dead, he could still remember how shocked he was, especially since there should be no one capable of even landing a scratch on him in the novice village.

But now that he saw Riley, he understood that he was anything but a normal player.

Nonetheless, he still found it hard to believe… a novice player killing such a powerful character, it was strange indeed.

The smirk on his face widened slightly, and then, just like that—

The smoke rippled again.

And the hooded figure was gone.

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