Broadcast from Cloud City High School

A swarm of gray moths fluttered around her, their wings stirring the air. Ashen powder drifted from above, and for a brief moment, Sophia Johnson felt as though she had drawn closer to the candle suspended impossibly high in the sky.

It was a shift in distance too subtle for the naked eye to perceive—but inexplicably, Sophia just knew she was closer.

Instinctively, she wanted to step forward, to get nearer still. But the moment the thought crossed her mind, she remembered the warning she'd drilled into herself over and over before consuming the core: stay rational.

Wrenching herself from that trance-like desire, Sophia Johnson came to her senses—and realized she was standing in a gray, floating pavilion. The path beneath her was made of countless moth carcasses. Had she taken another step forward, she would've fallen straight from the sky.

And just like that, she snapped out of the hallucination.

Back in reality, Sophia Johnson tried to recall the sensation from earlier, but couldn't for the life of her understand why she had been so enchanted by that distant flame.

"...That was close."

She raised a hand to rub her temple out of habit, calming herself before picking her book back up.

But she had barely read for half an hour when strange sounds came from outside…

Someone was speaking through a loudspeaker. The voice was distant, distorted, almost unintelligible—but it was getting closer. It reminded her of those old neighborhood broadcasts played from vans cruising around, announcing community notices.

A month ago, it would've been an ordinary sound. Now, it was borderline horrifying.

"Who the hell's being that reckless?"

People still alive these days usually kept their heads down. Who would dare draw this much attention?

Unless… they weren't human.

Sophia's brow arched. She set her book aside and walked to the window—not opening it, just tilting her head to listen more closely.

The broadcast was approaching the old residential block now, and the message began to come through clearly, word for word:

"Attention all surviving citizens! We've been abandoned in this city—no water, no power, and surrounded by mutated animals and monsters. Alone, we won't survive!

The teachers and remaining students of Cloud City High have established a survivor base. The school cafeteria has a well-stocked food supply, and our students include Awakened ones capable of venturing out for supplies and protecting everyone!

Cloud City High welcomes all surviving humans. No fees, no restrictions. In these dark times, let's stand together and protect each other!"

The message repeated on a loop as the vehicle slowly circled the block before heading off—probably to its next target zone.

Sophia Johnson let out a short laugh from the window—sharp, sarcastic.

That's no survivor base.

That's bait set by monsters.

Still, someone might just fall for it.

The disaster had only begun a few weeks ago. Many people were still holed up at home, clinging to old habits. Hearing a message like this might seem like a lifeline to some.

That broadcast was meant to snare people too scared to think straight, those desperate for the illusion of safety.

Even those who might usually be cautious—if they'd spent too long in the fog, if their minds had started to fray—might blindly chase after the so-called "refuge."

In fact, anyone not lured in by the message could likely be classified as someone still capable of staying rational amidst the mist.

"So these lunatics are trying to harvest the semi-sane?" Sophia frowned.

It didn't sit right with her—this overwhelming hatred these crazies had for the living. Why?

Did killing normal humans offer them some kind of benefit?

Or were they just completely deranged from the fog, driven by mindless bloodlust?

And if they did gain something from killing, what happens once they're done with this batch?

She didn't believe for a second that they'd stop after one round. Sooner or later, they'd come for the rest.

Sophia Johnson wasn't trying to play savior, nor did she care about the fools who'd fall for the bait.

But the situation was irritating. Mutant beasts were converging inexplicably in the city center, and now this group of psychopaths was hunting the living right on her doorstep.

Unacceptable.

Her expression darkened. She needed to eliminate them. She couldn't keep running forever—there was nowhere to run within this sealed-off city anyway.

And as for hoping someone else would take care of it? That was a fantasy she'd given up on long ago.

Sophia Johnson knew better than anyone: there was no one she could count on but herself.

"Let me think…"

She quickly assessed her current situation. Her only real advantage? The familiars.

If she wanted to deal with the madmen at the high school, she'd need their help.

But she only had two of them. And she had no idea how many of them there were…

Sophia blinked, a thought beginning to take shape.

"I'll go talk to the neighbor upstairs tomorrow. See if we can make a new deal."

She would need their help to carry out the plan.

And time was of the essence. Because she still didn't know if those lunatics killed simply for the thrill—or if they had another goal entirely.

What if killing boosted their power somehow?

If so, the longer she waited, the worse it would get.

"...Sigh." Sophia let out a quiet breath.

Her only small comfort was that when her familiars killed these madmen, they earned evolution points—and quite a few, at that.

Still, none of them had dropped any elemental cores yet. Or maybe the ones she'd encountered so far just weren't strong enough to drop them.

Maybe this time, I'll get lucky.

With her mind made up, Sophia Johnson stopped watching the window. She spent a while fine-tuning her plan, then went back to her book.

Later that night, after her familiars returned from their second hunt, she counted the spoils: six cores in total.

Four came from No.1, her strongest. The dog had only managed to snag two.

Which wasn't surprising—mutated animals needed to hit a certain power threshold before they produced cores.

But this time, not all six were [Blade] or [Moth]. One was a pale red, almost pinkish hue.

"A new attribute?"

Getting a new element now was less exciting than it sounded. She'd rather have another [Blade] core, honestly.

New types only helped her gather data—or get stockpiled to feed her spirit body later.

Even more disappointing: her familiars didn't earn enough evolution points to level up again. And there were only three [Blade] cores this round. Not enough for even No.1 to rank up again.

Guess I'll have to hope for another black fruit in the morning.