Chapter 11

[Detected 0.000000000142% Karmic Debt had been repaid.]

[Memory fragment restored.]

———

I dream.

Or perhaps, I remember.

The line between the two blurs, and I cannot tell which is which. But does it matter? It feels real—more real than anything I have ever known.

Memories unfold before me, not as distant recollections but as a stage play in which I am both actor and audience. I see the past, feel its weight pressing against me, and yet—I remain detached. No sorrow, no regret, no relief. Just cold acceptance.

My name is Adam.

No surname. Just Adam.

The name White was given to me—a mark of possession from the caretaker who raised me. An orphan, abandoned before I could remember the faces of those who left me behind. My life was unremarkable, a story that would never be recorded in history. A nameless, faceless existence meant to fade into nothing.

I lived without purpose. Adrift. Watching the world pass me by like a man staring through glass at something he could never touch. No matter how hard I tried, there was always a distance—an invisible wall separating me from everything else.

I could laugh, I could cry, I could pretend.

But deep down, it all felt hollow.

Then, I died.

And that was when everything changed.

The memory sharpens. I see it unfold, not as a vague impression, but as a moment I relive once more.

The moment of my death.

A fleeting instant that redefined my very existence. A moment that should have marked the end—yet, it did not.

I did not awaken in oblivion.

Not in the afterlife. Not in some paradise or hell.

But in another's body.

Pain lances through me, sharp and searing, as I awaken to a world not my own. My lungs burn, my skin feels too tight, and my limbs are weak—like a corpse being forced to move once more.

A name echoes in my mind.

Whitley Schnee.

The name means nothing to me. A stranger's identity. But it carries weight in this world, a name wrapped in privilege and scorn. A boy born into power yet despised for his bloodline. The son of a tyrant. The heir to a legacy of sins.

And he was dead.

Murdered. Not by fate, not by accident, but by the hands of those his family had oppressed. A White Fang soldier, blinded by vengeance, unable to see that his victim was already condemned.

And then—I took his place.

My soul, barely clinging to existence, forced into a body on the brink of death. The System, my supposed savior, repairing the damage and restoring life to this shell.

But I was not him.

I was Adam.

I had no choice but to fight my way out of the abyss.

The memory shifts, warping into the chaos of that night. The scent of blood. The cold steel in my hands. The way my body moved—unfamiliar, yet instinctive. I fought through the White Fang's stronghold, driven not by fury or vengeance, but by the raw, primal need to survive.

The System whispered in my mind, issuing commands, offering rewards. Guiding me. Arming me. A foreign voice promising power, offering me the means to carve my path.

For the first time, I felt alive.

Trapped in a world of fantasy, wielding power beyond my wildest dreams—I had finally broken through the wall that had always separated me from life.

It was exhilarating.

It was liberating.

It was a lie.

Reality struck the moment I escaped. The weight of my situation settled upon me like iron chains. This was no isekai fantasy. No hero's tale. No grand destiny laid at my feet.

No.

I had not been chosen.

I had been drafted.

A mercenary. A pawn. A disposable soldier in a war beyond my understanding. The True Gods had plucked my dying soul from oblivion and bound me to their service.

They were not benevolent.

They were cowards.

Hiding behind their divine thrones, unwilling to risk themselves. Instead, they summoned those who had nothing—lost souls from Earth, desperate and adrift—offering salvation in exchange for servitude.

We were not warriors.

We were sacrifices.

And I, like so many before me, learned that truth far too late.

The battles against the Outer Gods. The endless slaughter. The pain. The losses. The countless faces that faded into memory, one after another, until I no longer remembered them at all.

I had once felt nothing.

Then, I felt too much.

So much that it became unbearable.

So unbearable that I wanted to let go. To walk away. To abandon it all. But I couldn't.

I had lost too much.

The path I had paved with blood could not be undone. I was shackled to it, forced to continue forward.

And so, at last, I felt nothing again.

The dream begins to fade. The memories slip through my grasp like sand through my fingers. Yet, the weight remains. Even as I forget, the scars endure.

And then—

I open my eyes.

Was it truly a dream?

I cannot tell.

———

The early morning air was crisp and refreshingly cold, yet it carried the pungent stench of decaying corpses, blood, and lingering death. Adam strolled through the neighborhood, methodically eliminating the Honkai Beasts and zombies that had been drawn by the survivors he had driven away the night before.

It was a grim sight—mangled human bodies torn apart, their flesh shredded beyond recognition. Some were crushed into thin paste, others lay in twisted, unnatural shapes. Yet, despite the carnage, not a single corpse had been eaten.

Honkai Beasts did not kill for sustenance. Unlike natural predators that hunted to feed, these creatures attacked with no purpose other than destruction. Their sole instinct was to annihilate humankind.

Adam had grown used to such scenes. But this morning's quiet extermination was interrupted by an unexpected voice.

"You! This is all your fault! You chased us out, knowing this place was infested with those monsters! You wanted us dead!"

An old woman's shrill scream cut through the silence, thick with both terror and fury.

Adam turned to face her.

Seeing that he had stopped, the woman's confidence surged. She continued, her words dripping with self-righteousness, hurling blame at him as though she had been wronged.

But Adam didn't respond. He wasn't silent out of guilt. He was simply remembering.

She seemed familiar. And in an instant, he recalled who she was—one of the entitled few he had forced out the night before. She had been with her husband and a child then.

Now, she stood alone.

"...You should take responsibility and let me in," she demanded, her initial bluster giving way to desperation.

Adam looked at her with quiet pity.

Modern society had created people like her—parasites who survived by exploiting the kindness and guilt of others, preying on sympathy rather than contributing to their own survival. She had been raised in such an environment, shaped into what she was now.

Ignoring her frantic shouting, Adam walked past her toward a nearby shop, partially demolished from the chaos of the outbreak.

"Hey! Stop! I'm not finished talking to you!" she shrieked, her voice turning aggressive. "Don't go in there! Stop!"

She tried to grab him, to hold him back, but she was too weak. Adam pushed forward and stepped inside.

The shop was in disarray—shelves toppled, counters overturned. Amid the wreckage, two bodies lay motionless.

Her husband and her son.

Their corpses bore clear signs of struggle, deep wounds from their battle against the undead. Blood spattered across the floor, evidence of a desperate last stand.

But that wasn't the worst of it.

The bodies lay just before a heavy metal door leading to the staff area. The door was scratched and dented, kicked and clawed by hands that had once been desperate for survival. The son's fingers bore the evidence—nails torn off, fingertips peeled raw from the frantic attempt to break through.

Adam didn't need Angeline's analysis or his suit's onboard computer to understand what had happened.

The woman had locked herself inside the staff room, barricading the door and leaving her husband and son outside to die. She had sacrificed them, using their lives as a shield to ensure her own survival, hoping the zombies would lose interest once they were dead.

And now, this parasite dared demand his help?

Behind him, the old woman collapsed to the ground, her body trembling as the weight of the truth settled over her. But even now, she refused to admit her guilt.

"This is your fault!" she shrieked, eyes bloodshot, tears streaming down her face. "If you hadn't thrown us out, my husband and son would still be alive! It's because of you that they died!"

Adam said nothing.

He simply looked at her, seeing her for what she truly was.

From the moment their encounter began to its bitter end, Adam never uttered a single word. He simply stood there, his visor-covered eyes locked onto the old woman like a silent judge delivering a final verdict.

Unnerved by his stare, she lashed out, her voice rising in hysteria.

"Kill me!" she screamed, her disheveled appearance only adding to her manic desperation. "Even if I have to become a ghost, I'll haunt you! I'll drag you down to hell with me!"

Her shouts echoed through the ruined streets, attracting the attention of nearby Honkai Beasts. A sinister laugh bubbled from her lips as if she had finally lost what little sanity remained.

Adam, however, remained unfazed.

A quick glance at his minimap showed several red dots approaching. Moments later, the first figures came into view—Honkai Zombies, their rotting forms shuffling toward the commotion inside the shop.

He made no move to stop them.

Instead, without hesitation, he activated his Cloaking Mode, an advanced Invisibility Field enveloping his body and rendering him undetectable. As the creatures drew closer, Adam silently walked past them, leaving the old woman alone to face the fate she had brought upon herself.

Realizing he had vanished, the woman's composure crumbled.

Panic set in as she scrambled toward the staff area, desperate to reach the heavy metal door and seal herself inside once more. But fear had sapped the strength from her legs—she was too slow.

A cold, decayed hand clamped onto her ankle.

Her scream was raw and filled with terror as she thrashed against the iron grip, but it was futile. The zombie sank its teeth into her flesh, tearing away chunks with grotesque wet sounds.

Her final words were not pleas for mercy.

They were curses.

Spat through bloodied lips, she hurled every ounce of her hatred at Adam, even as her body was ripped apart and devoured.

Adam didn't spare her another glance.

Instead, as a final farewell, he casually pulled a time-fuse grenade from his Inventory, tossed it into the shop, and walked away.

A deafening explosion followed, cutting off her screams and reducing the shop to flaming rubble.

Without looking back, Adam continued his morning routine—eliminating every last Honkai threat in the surrounding neighborhood.

———

At 9 AM sharp, Alice heard the sound of footsteps and immediately dropped everything in her hands as she rushed to the door.

Kayoko who saw this scene immediately understood what was happening and immediately went to prepare the breakfast portion she saved for Adam since he missed it after he vanished earlier this morning.

As the door into the apartment was swung open, Alice jumped and threw herself to the one entering.

"Alice?" Adam looks confused but skillfully catches Alice with both arms before helping her to stand on both feets as she nuzzles herself on him.

"Alice, not now. I'm still dirty from the fighting. At least let me clean myself first." Adam said, slightly exasperated.

"It's fine! Alice doesn't mind." She chirped back and tightly hugged around his waist when Adam tried to pried her away from him.

Kayoko simply laughed at the heartwarming scene and said nothing as she served a simple and improvised Japanese breakfast of rice, grilled canned sardines and miso soup.

At least in her eyes, the world does not look as bleak as before and hope was budding in her heart. Hope that humanity has a chance to survive this catastrophe.

—————

(AN: Should I add more snippets of his past? Or not? Or I should elaborate more on it? Tell me so I know how to proceed.)

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