Doom system survivor 2 a.., p.17
Doom System Survivor 2: A LitRPG Apocalypse, page 17
“Yeah?” Samuel asked.
“It lets me set a target location. Once I do, any monsters nearby get drawn into that spot. Sort of like a Zone of Influence, but forced. At least, that’s what the description said after rambling about wokeness and something called the Slab Grave Culture. I don’t know. But I do know it means we won’t have to necessarily fight the monsters—we just stack ’em up.” He looked to Hiro. “Didn’t you say you have a nuke?”
Samuel turned sharply. “You have a bloody nuke?”
“I do,” Hiro said with a quick glance down to the golden watch still on his wrist, the one that could trigger the explosion. “But let’s not use that. Instead…” He pulled the Red Gumball from his backpack. “This. Let’s use this instead.”
“And what exactly is that?” Samuel asked.
Hiro rolled the gumball between his fingers. “It’s an explosive that I have to chew to activate.”
Ben shook his head. “Talk about a one-way trip to the dentist.”
Samuel blinked a few times in disbelief. “You have to chew it?” he asked Hiro.
“For one minute. Then we have one minute to get clear.”
Samuel considered this, then grinned. “All right. We teleport away. Or”—his eyes glinted—“we visit the past? That could work, right?”
Ben squinted at the Australian. “Now hold on a minute. Did you say ‘visit the past?”
“He did. And it’s possible. The teddy bear Bianca’s holding?”
The shield, who had gravitated away from them, held up the bear like it was Simba in the Lion King.
Ben cracked a grin. “She’s got a sense of humor.”
“She does,” Hiro said. “Anyway, that bear—”
“Mishka,” Bianca reminded him.
“Mishka is a legendary item. Squeeze it, and I can travel to the past for a brief period of time. Last Interim, I could only use it once between rests. This Interim, it’s given me less time, but my time freezes when I return here. And people don’t have to touch me to travel with me,” he said for Samuel.
As he had before with other explanations, Ben didn’t seem to phased to learn this was possible. “And you said the bear’s name is Mishka?”
“Yes, Bianca named it,” Hiro said as he gestured his Dragon-Bear Claw toward the shield.
“Damn right, I did!” Bianca said.
“Welp, I guess that could work too,” Ben said. “So you use Viral Mode, I cast {Round Up}, monsters come while you chew the gum, Samuel teleports an explosive to the monster, then he comes back here and we go to the past. Sounds crazy.”
Hiro nodded in agreement. “That’s the plan.”
Samuel glanced at the Guggenheim Museum, then back at Hiro. “Mad as a cut snake. But doable. Let’s get started.” One flash later and they stood on the Guggenheim’s rooftop, Central Park stretched out before them. Hiro caught a glimpse of some of the roaming wall of trash in the distance, cutting through the streets, but it was too far away to be of concern at the moment.
Ben wobbled for a second. “That’s one way to do it.”
He glanced down to the museum’s entrance, where Hachi stood stiff, staring up at them, his dark eyes unreadable. “I’ll grab him. We don’t want him jumping into the madness.”
“I’ll stay here with Mishka,” Bianca said as she continued cradling the teddy bear.
Hiro bounced down and landed in front of Hachi. “We have to go up there.”
The dog went rigid and started to growl.
“Don’t worry, I’m not going to put the mask on you,” he said, referring to the item they had received from the first Revenant. “Although, I really think you should wear it. It was given to us for a reason.”
Hachi barked.
“We have to go to the rooftop. We’re about to try something.” He crouched and extended a hand. “Come on. You trust me, right?”
The dog hesitated, ears flicking—then, grudgingly, let Hiro scoop him into his arms.
Boing!
Hiro landed back on the rooftop and let Hachi go. The moment the dog’s paws hit the ground, he let out a sharp growl, ears pinned back as he fixed a glare on the Survivors.
“All right, all right, all right,” Ben said, shaking his head. “Are we ready? Also, should you pre-chew the gum? Or just give it to Samuel to chew? I was wondering about that.”
“I probably have to be the one to chew it,” Hiro said. “I’ll need to time it. Cast {Round Up} now. And I’ll use Viral Mode.”
“Let’s see how this works.” Ben raised a hand and activated his skill. A pulse of nearly invisible energy rippled from his fingertip, tracing a broad circle on the pavement in front of the Guggenheim entrance. As the arc closed, the air within the boundary shimmered, bending light like heat off asphalt. A vortex began to take shape, its gravitational pull coiling inward—a trap designed to hold any monster that dared step inside.
“Here we go…” Hiro activated Viral Mode.
Phantom spotlights flared from nowhere, bathing him in unnatural light as hundreds of translucent thumbs-up symbols rained down from the sky, flickering in and out of existence like glitching pixels.
A system announcement blared out from unseen speakers.
[Survivor Hiro Johnson has entered Viral Mode. All entities within the area, proceed to the broadcast location.]
The world around them seemingly shook as a second pulse rippled through the cityscape. A deep snarl cut through the night, followed by a chorus of shrill, answering screeches.
Samuel tensed. “Bloody hell—”
[Survivor Hiro Johnson has entered Viral Mode. All entities within the area, proceed to the broadcast location.]
Monsters erupted from Central Park in a stampede of the damned. Rats with grotesquely elongated limbs skittered forward, their extra arms twitching unnaturally; bats with rusted blades clenched in their jaws swooped low, their shrill cries carving through the air; other twisted amalgamations—bodies fused together in writhing, corrupted flesh—lurched and sprinted toward the museum from all directions, an unstoppable tide of horror.
Every single one was funneled into Ben’s trap.
Samuel let out a low whistle. “That’s at least fifty, maybe more.”
Bianca tilted slightly toward them, her tentacles raising her a bit higher into the air as she observed the madness.
The horde packed together, piling atop one another, clawing, snarling, their limbs tangled in a writhing mass of desperation. Feral shrieks filled the air, a deafening cacophony of rage and fear, as the vortex’s unseen force yanked them back, denying every attempt to escape. Bones cracked under the weight of the frenzy, bodies crushed against one another in a seething pile of panic.
It was all going perfectly to plan until two Hunters landed on the rooftop, their health bars appearing alongside translucent skulls.
The woman was tall and skeletal-thin, her weapon a shattered chandelier, the jagged crystal edges laced with something green and burning. She swung it like a flail, the sharp edges whisking through the air.
Samuel blurred backward just in time to avoid losing his head.
Ben twisted toward her, dodging the worst of it, but his sudden movement knocked him back a few steps. He came forward again with his Bear Claw as he yelled for Hiro to prepare the explosive.
Now with Mishka tucked under his arm, Bianca ready to defend him, Hiro popped the gumball in his mouth and started chewing, instantly noting that it had a pleasant cinnamon flavor.
Seriously? he thought as he chewed harder.
“Oi!” Samuel teleported behind the woman and kicked at the back of her knee, making her stumble. He then whipped at her with the ends of his cloak, spinning faster and faster as arcs of blood sprayed into the air.
Hachi jumped for the other man and latched onto his leg while Bianca helped Samuel by wrapping a tentacle around the woman’s chandelier weapon and yanking it free.
Hiro kept chewing until the gum was warm. “I think it’s ready!” he yelled to Samuel, who had just finished off the woman.
[A Hunter has fallen.]
“Coming your way, mate!” Samuel called as Hachi lunged at the helmeted Hunter, jaws snapping down on his forearm. The attack opened a window for Ben, who thrust his Bear Claw forward, clamping onto the man's neck and finishing him off.
[A Hunter has fallen.]
Hiro spat the gum into his palm. It was smoldering now. Alive. “Samuel—”
He was just sticking his hand out when the Australian appeared and grabbed it from him. “I’ll take that. Get ready to go to the past!” Samuel teleported straight down into the writhing mass of monsters. He was gone for half a second. Then, he was back, the explosive set.
Everything became a blur as Ben and Samuel closed in around Hiro, Bianca latched onto his arm, and Hachi kept gnawing on the fading Hunter’s leg.
“Ready?” Hiro asked.
“Ready!” Ben and Samuel said together.
He tightened his grip on Mishka, and a flash of blinding light swallowed the world whole.
28
CASH IN, CASH OUT
It was a calm day on the rooftop of the Guggenheim Museum—clear skies, a few wisps of cloud drifting above. The air was crisp, the Survivors’ breaths immediately visible as they exchanged glances, reality settling in.
Ben turned in place, scanning their surroundings before his gaze snapped to Hiro, then Bianca. His brow furrowed.
“What in the literal hell?” Ben asked the rugged man with a beard and bright blue eyes. He glanced at Bianca, who now stood in her human form, the teenager wearing a fuzzy pink outfit. “Who are you?”
“The shield,” she replied, her voice light, playful. Then, with a smirk, she did the little shimmy she always did, one Hiro was certain was some old TikTok dance.
Ben slapped his hand against his forehead. “That’s who you are?”
“Right on ya!” Samuel said, adjusting his cloak. In the present, he never seemed to care when it billowed open, revealing far too much of his barely clothed body. Yet here, in the past, he self-consciously tucked it around himself, ensuring he stayed covered.
Ben glanced over at Hachi, who—for once—was sitting still, ears perked, his head cocked slightly as he studied them all with sharp, knowing eyes. “Even your dog?” Ben asked. “Dang.”
“Hachi too. Unfortunately, there’s not much we can do here on the rooftop,” Hiro said, stretching slightly. “If we were at a restaurant, we could at least raid it.”
“I’d kill for a burger,” Ben sighed.
“We did that last Interim,” Samuel told him with a grin. “And it was bloody worth it. I’d like a pint myself, but that can wait. I think our explosion’s probably finished by now, yeah?”
“Probably,” Hiro said.
He ignored the timer. Instead, he took a slow breath, savoring the eerie stillness of the past—in a few moments, they’d be thrown back into the chaos of the present.
“Here goes.” Hiro released the teddy bear.
The sky darkened instantly. The crisp, clean air of the past warped, the shift like an invisible pressure drop. The serene blue faded, overtaken by a sickly, overcast gray.
Hiro tensed at the brutal reality of post-apocalyptic New York, where darkness reclaimed the streets. Though the distant glow of downtown still flickered from the Guggenheim’s vantage point.
Three years on a stone, he thought. They were back, and just about the moment he fully accepted this, Hiro was hit by the prompts.
You have new followers!
You got cash!
A smoldering crater was all that remained of the monstrous horde, the air thick with the acrid stench of burnt flesh and scorched metal. Wisps of ashen smoke curled before the Guggenheim, rising from what had once been an unrelenting swarm.
The spotlight had faded and the barrage of Likes had also vanished from Hiro’s pane of vision, a silent confirmation that Viral Mode had ended.
“Crikey,” Samuel muttered, glancing over his stats.
Hiro did the same, his breath catching as he registered the numbers. His follower count had skyrocketed—far beyond what he had expected.
Hiro Johnson
Level Twelve
Current Title: Profit Prophet
STR: 1.4 [+0.5 Roulette Boost]
STA: 2 [+1 Roulette Boost]
DEX: 3.1 [+2 Roulette Boost]
REG: 3.7 [+2.5 Roulette Boost]
MIND: 4.4 [+3.5 Roulette Boost]
Soul Cash: 15,211
Followers: 30,743
Marks: Butcher’s Mark
“Where are we at, fellas?” Ben asked, checking his numbers. “Me? I got 2,999 Soul Cash and 16,558 followers. Dang, that follower count really jumped up. Soul Cash? Not so much.”
Hiro scanned his own stats again with disbelief. “I’m just over 15k Soul Cash and 30,743 followers.”
“And I have 5,722 Soul Cash and 8,366 followers,” Samuel added. He pulled off his bucket hat, revealing a head of stringy, wispy hair. He ran a hand through it as he absorbed the numbers. A slow grin creeping across his face. “Are we ready to do this or what, mates?”
“The nearest merchant is…” Ben squinted toward Harlem. “There.”
“Let’s get to it, then.” Samuel adjusted his cloak. “Gather round, lads, shield, and dog—also, Bianca, I’m sorry I didn’t get the chance to introduce myself probably, um, back there.” He approached the shield and extended his hand. “You seem like a lovely young lady, however.”
“Same,” Ben said as he did the same. “I was honestly shocked as hell to be back. Not gonna lie there.”
After shaking their hands, Bianca turned to Hiro and crossed her fuzzy pink arms over her chest. “See? That’s how you treat to a lady.”
“Noted.” Hiro stuffed Mishka back into his backpack. He whistled for Hachi, who—as always—refused to come, but allowed Hiro to scoop him up without protest once he approached cautiously. “You’re more like a cat than you know,” he told the demonic pooch as he rejoined Samuel.
With a flicker of energy, the group flashed away, reappearing in a park draped in the haze of New York City. Hiro immediately recognized the location—a forgotten sliver of green wedged between the crumbling remains of the Upper East Side and Harlem. At the center of it all, a golden beacon blazed atop an old fire watchtower. It pulsed, like molten gold poured from an invisible hand, thick and heavy, illuminating the park with an unnatural glow. The watchtower itself had warped under the system’s influence, its iron frame stretching unnaturally tall, twisting in ways that made Hiro’s stomach lurch.
“The Merchant’s up there,” Samuel said, shading his eyes against the glow. “One more trip, lads.”
“Let me put Hachi down first,” Hiro said, setting the dog on the ground.
A moment later, they flashed to the top of the watchtower, where they found a hollow-eyed man in a pinstripe suit, crouched before his wares. The merchant’s face was gaunt, his mouth replaced by a rusted coin slot. His hands were blackened with soot, as though burned in some unseen fire.
When he spoke, his voice scraped like metal grinding against stone. “Welcome, Survivors.”
Samuel didn’t waste time. “We’re here to buy levels and whatnot.”
“Levels, you say?” the merchant rasped.
Hiro opened his status screen. Sure enough, the multiplier had taken effect. 61,975 Soul Cash… he thought, his palms suddenly sweaty.
Samuel turned to Hiro expectantly. “Yeah?”
“Close to 62k,” Hiro confirmed.
Samuel clapped his hands together. “Good, good. In that case, gents, accept the prompt.”
A new voice—feminine, robotic—whispered into Hiro’s mind.
[Transfer your Soul Cash to Samuel? Y/N]
“Yes,” Hiro and Ben answered in unison.
Samuel’s eyes burned with delight. “And now…” He snapped his fingers. “That’s how all Ponzi schemes work.” He chuckled at his own joke, then grinned at Hiro. “Right, mate. Sending it back. Also, I’m sending you your original amount,” he told Ben, “and I’m keeping mine. This will help later on.”
[Receive 393,519 Soul Cash from Samuel? Y/N]
Hiro’s pulse quickened. “Of course!” he said, grinning as he accepted the transfer of close to four hundred thousand Soul Cash.
Bianca burst out laughing. “I can’t say I’ve ever seen you this excited—”
“How many levels can you sell?” Hiro asked as he turned back to the Merchant, who didn’t seem the least bit disturbed by their scheme. If anything, there was a flicker of delight in his hollow eyes, as though he enjoyed watching them work the system.
“One each,” the Merchant rasped.
“One each… In that case, I’ll buy one for each of us. Also, what else do you sell?” Hiro scanned the Merchant’s wares—a scattered mess of trinkets ranging from a rusted pocket watch ticking backward to a set of dice with shifting numbers to a cracked snow globe filled with swirling black mist. “Do you sell Stat Boosts?”
The merchant grunted a response. “I do, but I only got MIND in stock. Same limitations as the levels—one each.”
Hiro glanced at Samuel and Ben, who both nodded.
“We’ll take that too,” he said.
The merchant reached into his pile of oddities and pulled out three small vials of shimmering liquid, the contents shifting between liquid silver and deep violet. “You have to drink this, though.”
Samuel shrugged this off. “We’ve had worse, believe me.”
“As for these”—the merchant gestured toward his other trinkets—“they won’t be useful in this Interim. They’re charms, only active from the Third Interim onward.”
“Let’s skip those for now,” Hiro said, already eager to move. “We should hit the next merchant.”
“Agreed,” Samuel and Ben both said.
“I know one that can upgrade items, but they don’t handle levels,” he told them, thinking of the pair in the subway system—Los Mejoradores. “Near Columbus Circle. That’s an option.”
“Yeah, I reckon we can head that way,” Samuel said. “See what merchants are available on the Upper West Side first, though. Maybe hit Love up. I haven’t seen her yet this Interim.”
