Catalyst Bead

A week slipped by quietly. The city moved through its daily cycles—commuters on trains, children at school, couples arguing on balconies. He tracked their lives from afar, knowing soon everything would be torn apart. The tension in his chest grew each morning as he counted down the days in his head, approximating the apocalypse's start. He still didn't know the exact moment, just that it lurked near. The world's final calm before the storm.

In that week, he pushed himself hard. Days began early with sword practice until sweat soaked his shirt. The manual's moves no longer felt alien—his feet found proper footing, his wrists adjusted the blade's angle naturally. When he glanced at the System after a tough session:

[Study Progress: Unrefined Sword Manual: 17/20 hours]

So close. Three more hours of dedicated, focused training and he would gain Basic Sword Mastery. That would be his first true step into becoming more than just a man with memories. It would be a sliver of System-granted power before the system-wide awakening.

He also made discreet visits to a few more places he remembered from the future. A run-down mall that would one day house a hidden vault. A riverside warehouse rumored to spawn healing potions from nothing more than a strange puddle after the apocalypse. He couldn't alter these places yet—no prompt or opportunity appeared—but mapping them out in advance would save valuable time. If he claimed these resources first, he'd hit the ground running when monsters and chaos arrived.

This afternoon, a gentle drizzle turned the pavement slick and shining. He stood under a bus shelter, lost in thought. He'd spent the morning at a shabby antiques stall, hoping to find another Key Fragment or something else System-reactive, but no luck. Maybe not every rumor from his previous life was accurate, or maybe he was too early.

He needed to focus on what he could achieve right now. Complete the manual. Achieve the Skill. That would unlock more storage and perhaps make future anomalies easier to influence.

Back at his apartment, he changed into comfortable clothes. The sword lay against a wall, familiar now. He decided to put in those last three hours tonight. He pushed the table aside to clear more space, closed the curtains, and breathed deeply. No distractions. He needed pure concentration.

Taking the stance detailed in the first page of the manual, he ran through the forms. The sword's dull edge sliced the air with a quiet whoosh. He imagined facing a goblin—a creature he knew would soon overrun the streets. He pictured blocking its crude club strike, countering with a precise cut. Then a winged imp diving from above—he'd pivot, stepping into a thrust. Focus sharpened his senses. He didn't just move; he danced through a deadly ballet he'd once performed for real.

Minutes blurred into an hour. His shoulders ached, muscles protesting, but he pressed on. Another hour, sweat dripping down his face, legs trembling. The forms grew more natural. The sword was an extension of his arm, not a foreign object. The manual's instructions, once static text, lived in his body now.

After what felt like forever, he paused, chest heaving, and called up the System:

[Study Progress: Unrefined Sword Manual: 20/20 hours Complete.]

[Congratulations! You have acquired: Basic Sword Mastery (Rank: Basic)]

[Effect: Slightly improves handling, accuracy, and speed with swords. Increases damage output slightly.]

A rush of relief and satisfaction warmed his chest. He closed his eyes, savored the moment. He had done it—he gained a Skill before the apocalypse began. Even if it was just "Basic," that alone would put him leagues ahead.

[Additional Notification: Storage Slots increased by 1. Total: 2 Slots.]

Perfect. Another slot. Now he could store more items, maybe the sword manual itself or any new finds. The Key Fragment occupied one slot, and now he had space for another crucial piece when he discovered it.

He lowered the sword, smiling to himself. His breath slowed. This small victory meant so much. He recalled how in his past life, basic mastery was something you learned under life-and-death pressure days into the apocalypse. This time, he had it now, leisurely, with time to spare.

He tested a quick motion with the sword, just to feel the difference. A subtle ease guided his wrist, a whisper in his muscles telling him how to balance weight better. Yes, definitely improved.

The night wore on, city lights flickering outside his window. He set the sword aside and sat on the floor, leaning against the wall. What next? He had Skills, a Key Fragment, a catalyst bead, knowledge of multiple future hotspots, and now two storage slots. The next big step was probably to claim something rarer.

He recalled a certain hidden cellar beneath an old library. After the apocalypse, it became known for spawning rare Skill Books once a month. If he could stash a tool there now, or at least find a precursor item… But maybe that was too complicated. Without System prompts, tampering might do nothing.

Another idea: If he raised his attributes slightly. Could he find a natural way to boost them now? In the future, potions and buffs were common, but currently, none existed. He might consider intense physical training. Maybe a slight stat increase could occur if he pushed his body's limits. The System might register natural growth. That would be slow and inefficient, though.

For now, he'd settle on what he had. He was progressing well, and even if no more obvious leads presented themselves, being armed and skilled was huge. He stood up, rolled his shoulders, and tapped into the System menu:

[Status]

Strength: 5

Agility: 6

Vitality: 5

Intelligence: 7

Willpower: 8

Luck: 5

Skills: Basic Sword Mastery (Basic)

Just seeing a Skill listed felt reassuring. He thought of going out again tomorrow to revisit that Rift anchor at the construction site. Now that he had a Skill, maybe the System would let him do something more there, though it previously said he needed specific keys. The Key Fragment he had might not match that site's requirement.

He walked to his small desk and opened the drawer containing the bead. With two storage slots, he could store the bead too, keeping it safe from mundane theft or accidents:

[Do you wish to store Minor Catalyst Bead? Y/N]

He selected Yes. The bead vanished in a soft shimmer.

Now his inventory read:

Slot 1: Key Fragment

Slot 2: Minor Catalyst Bead

Two precious items safe from prying eyes. If thieves broke in, they'd find nothing of real value.

Satisfied, he washed his face, the cool water a comfort. Tomorrow, he'd train more, scout another location or two, and keep waiting for any subtle sign of the apocalypse drawing closer. Maybe strange animal attacks, odd lights in the sky, or a drop in temperature. He was alert for any clue.

At least now, if a creature jumped out of nowhere—some freak accident or a pre-apocalypse anomaly—he could fight back. Basic Sword Mastery wasn't a trump card, but it was a foothold.

He lay on his bed, feeling more at ease than he had since returning. He had turned back time, and this time he was no helpless spectator. He drifted off thinking of blades, fragments, and the unseen gears of the System turning quietly in the background. Soon, very soon, he'd step onto the stage fully armed.