[Sub-quest]

Five Minutes

You have vowed to shield Leona Ahn and Damien Fayer from harm. Protect them for five minutes.

Difficulty:

F~D

Time Limit:

300 seconds

Victory Condition:

Survive for 45/300 seconds

Defeat Condition:

Leona Ahn is killed

AND OR

Damien Fayer is killed

Rewards:

5000 standards

Item - Protector’s Shortsword

~~~

Fifty seconds have passed.

“Gaaah—!”

Fifty-five seconds have passed.

“—Arg!”

Sixty seconds have passed.

“—Rah—!”

“Who’s next?” Alexander asked, kicking the last corpse down the stairs. Within fifteen seconds, the steps were splattered in dark, slick blood. It was the goblins’ disadvantage. They were dumb, but not stupid; they’ll learn to stop climbing to their deaths. Eventually. A few more would give them the lesson.

In the cramped pack of goblins below, one of them pushed to the front and threw a rock. It struck Alexander’s chest but he didn’t budge. Not one bit.

[Skill Activation: Certain Shot]

Alexander pierced the testing goblin’s brain, right through the eye, and the ball-point thumped at the other end, dead. [Certain Shot] was a wonderful skill, guaranteed a kill. Had a ten second cooldown however. Thus, he had to buy some time between uses.

The fallen goblin caused the others to cry in outrage. Three of them, primal, reckless, scaled the bloodied steps. One immediately slipped and fell on the first step, another did the same in the middle, but the last one, it was the smart one—clever and snarling, intelligent and arrogant. The best combination. It avoided the blood and stepped only on the clean parts; confident in its wits, it brandished his dagger and lunged forward.

It was wide open. Alexander changed his grip on the stolen club, held in his left. Gripped his pens tighter in his right.

He struck first with a left bat, knocking tinier daggers from its shit-lipped mouth, then followed with a swirling downwards arc, smashing goblin club against goblin head. It fell, cracked its skull open on the highest step, sobbing. Alexander stored his club in his [Inventory] and his pens in his pocket.

He lifted the goblin with one hand. It sobbed pathetically, clawing him with its dwindling strength. Weak bone popped from its head wound, leaking warm ink. Alexander picked up its dagger and twirled the piece in his free hand. He embellished his time as much as he could.

“I told you.” He severed its jugular, and out came a healthy wash of red, spraying it around to cover as much space as he could. “Who’s next?”

Alexander threw the carcass with its friends, letting it bleed out.

Behind him, a man darted by and went up the stairs, going to a higher level for safety. Another man followed suit, and another, then a woman this time. More came.

So they’re using me as a distraction? As long as they find someplace safe.

He checked the time.

[You have survived for 84/300 seconds]

Alexander sighed. Suddenly, he banged on the railing with his fist. Then again for impact. The goblins jolted back, snarling and hissing. “What are you waiting for?!”

He used [Certain Shot] to impale another goblin in the eye. The suddenness made them more weary to come, feeling the weight of their friends stack on their shoulders.

“Come on! Your meatbags are running away!” He clanged the dagger against the railing. “Aren’t you here to kill us?! Do it then! Kill us! Tear us apart! Do it! Do it and see what happens!”

To finish, Alexander’s voice intensified into a [Taunt]. “COME ON!”

His taunt reddened the mobs; regardless of their survival instincts, all of them clamored forth, fighting to be the first one to make Alexander bleed. But the stairs were too bloody for them. They toppled on each other, fumbling, tumbling—it was the goblins in the back who stood a chance. They hopped on their allies’ twisting bodies. One was killed with [Certain Shot]—ninety-six seconds—while the others charged.

A goblin jumped onto Alexander’s level with a crude axe and clumsily swung. It missed, and it wasn’t even close. The dagger found its next victim: pierced the green’s throat then threw it to the others.

Alexander took the axe, gripped it tightly, and hurled it to the next one. But the axe struck handle-first, knocked a green-thing dizzy, both tumbling uselessly to the ground with a groan and a clatter. This is why I need [Certain Shot], dammit!

The next goblin came close to the railing, lunging with a torch. It swung wide, too wide, making it laughably easy for Alexander to kick it over the railing.

Alexander checked behind him. People were still coming in, and a wave of goblins threatened them. Alright! he thought, Hold the line here!

Not a single goblin reached the door. Not a single goblin wounded Alexander. Not a single goblin did anything that mattered. They all met their justified ends by his hand; through pens or their stolen weapons, he outlasted them and killed them, and by the end, those who wanted to leave had left, and the goblins who wanted to kill were killed.

The stairwell was a painting, drenched in dark crimson. And the subject Alexander, in his office attire, was more red than white and black.

Gasping, exhausted, Alexander checked the timer.

[You have survived for 234/300 seconds]

I have a little over a minute left. I need to—

“Haah…” A deep, scratched growl reverberated against the walls. Alexander turned cold. Some people behind him stopped, frightened by the growl as well. “Hmm… Aaah…”

Below, there was a large disgusting green beast with leather armor and a chipped steel sword. Rattling on its belt were three severed heads of fresh kills. Twice the height of the average goblin, twice as ugly too. Its breath was rancid as though rotten, and grinned, proud of its hideousness.

A floor below, it met Alexander’s eyes. “Heh.”

Shit. He used the universal [Basic Information] mechanic.

[Enemy]

Hobgoblin

D3 Mob

Skills:

???

Power: D9

Constitution: D6

Agility: D1

Magick: E6

Fantastic.

Alexander, with his buffs, was put at E8. There wasn’t a large difference between him and this beast stats-wise, but equipment-wise was another story. With the pens he had, how armorless he stood, it’d be difficult to win through conventional means. Having a real sword, he’d win. A gun, absolutely. Dirty goblin weapons? No. Punching it? Surprisingly viable, although bringing fists to a sword-fight was a poor choice.

The Hobgoblins saw its dead underlings and smirked, clicking its tongue, muttering something. It stepped on their dead bodies, its heavy boots squeezing the blood from their wounds; some were alive still, but it didn’t care. They will die soon anyway, what was the point of saving them? Standing on a pile of them, it faced Alexander. “Human.”

“You can speak English?” he asked, surprised by the fact.

It nodded, its swampy tongue sliding along the roughness of its lips. “I kill many power-humans.” It gestured to the blood and corpses with its steel. “You do this? You kill?”

Alexander nodded as well. “I did.”

“They weak,” said the Hobgoblin. “I strong. I very strong. You weak.”

“I’m not that weak.”

The Hobgoblin grinned, showing its rotten teeth. It slapped its belt, shaking the severed heads. “Weak human. I want four.”

Alexander raised his stolen goblin dagger, inching towards the open door. Everyone who wanted to leave, left. Now, it was him and the Hobgoblin, the toughest challenge thus far. He sized it: wasn’t too tall, wasn’t so strong, wasn’t so tough either. “I could take you.”

“Really, human—?”

[Skill Activation: Certain Shot]

A pen pierced the Hobgoblin’s head; however, it didn’t puncture its eye as Alexander wanted. No, it got itself stuck right in its forehead, protruding out like a strange horn; it had a thick skull. Not unexpected. Although [Certain Shot] was a good skill, Alexander was only an E6. He hadn’t the Power, and it had the Constitution.

“Hmph.” The Hobgoblin snapped the pen off. It was pissed.

I have less than a minute left. That’s more than enough time.

Alexander took the first move—the first proper move. He leapt back and swung upwards with the grimy dagger, severing a thin bar of the hold open mechanism. The Hobgoblin roared, saliva fleeing from its lips as if they too were scared. It came forward with its dirty gray-length, pulled back to thrust. It wasn’t fast enough. Hard and loud, the steel door was abruptly shut, denying it the pleasure of an easy kill. Just the humiliating thud of its body against thin metal.

Alexander, temporarily safe on the other side, took several steps back. He’d need to fight it here, in a wide open space. While he didn't have a sword, he had pens. He had staplers. Computer monitors and keyboards. An entire office arsenal was here and knowing this fact gave him zero confidence.

“Human!” gnarled the Hobgoblin, banged on the door once, then its sword did. Sharply, carving into the feeble steel like butter. Great wounds bent into the standing thing, growing in numbers, bigger and bigger, gradually revealing the murderer on the other side.

“Ah shit,” Alexander muttered, backing once more. He surveyed around. Familiar, pained voices came at him louder than the walking atrocity, came from not only Leona and Damien, but others as well; a quick glance told him there were at least ten Pseudos-to-be, including the two, and a few souls who stayed and watched.

“Die, human!” screeched the Hobgoblin. A few more cuts and he’ll be through.

It was safe to conclude that Alexander was on his own here. Himself and his awful goblin weapons.

“Grraah!” The door was spent. The Hobgoblin stomped through, sputtered as a keyboard smacked against its face, sputtered again as a stapler was next, then a computer monitor, then another monitor, then a cloud of papers, another cloud, then an entire PC. The onslaught stopped there and it was more red than green at that point. “Human, you—?!”

It stopped speaking suddenly. It looked down to its right shoulder, noticing a goblin dagger piercing through its leather. Warm blood oozed from the cracks. Between the office supplies, Alexander sneaked in the dagger using [Certain Shot]. He thought it was clever, funny even, and the Hobgoblin laughed too.

For an entirely different reason. Dear God, it wanted him worse than dead.

Its scream was awful: unfettered rage, boiling with an ambitious desire to kill and maim. It rampaged through, but in the midst of its anger, it overlooked the fact that blood and papers made for a very poor ground. On the third step, its front leg stretched forward too much, sliding on paper skates. The back leg tried to compensate for the loss of balance, hopelessly shuffling until the entire body shuffled onto the ground, on its knees.

It was forced lower when a plastic broom snapped over its back, the broomhead tumbling, rolling away sweeping up dirt. The gray-length came up and around, awkwardly it did, and missed wide. Alexander tightened his grip and dove the broom’s splintered end into its calf. It shrieked; he pulled out. Before he could do it again, the gray-length seconded, better this time, cutting through the weak plastic and driving Alexander away in fear.

Close, too close. The broom was useless now so he tossed the pieces aside. The Hobgoblin stood, having now been wounded twice and Alexander none at all, and it aimed to change that, clearly from how sparkly its tar eyes were and how its gray shouted horrid things to Alexander, that of death.

But Alexander raised two fingers. “Two.” Then pointed at himself. “Zero.”

They moved at once. The floor wasn’t littered with wet papers; it was as clean as a natural disaster. The Hobgoblin came faster than he expected, making perilous swings. It loved his legs, his arms, his heart, and especially his neck, but Alexander avoided its advances by retreating in each attempt until he found an opening to his left. Rightfully, he took it, diving over a messy desk, knocking over the things on top, his legs banging against an office chair.

The Hobgoblin roared again, insulted by this act and jumped over the desk. Alexander got up by then and kicked the chair over. It didn’t fall like the other time, but it sure did stumble.

“Annoying human!” the Hobgoblin recovered, throwing the chair several desks away to remove it from play. Alexander took to a filing cabinet and pulled out a drawer as hard as possible, but it refused to come out. He saw a flicker of steel from the corner of his eyes and kicked at the source, connecting feet to chest, pushing the Hobgoblin back. Not yet.

One more time! Alexander pulled and ripped the drawer out with a horrible scream of scratching metal. Hopefully, it'll do the trick. Gray-steel came down upon him, blocked by the drawer held on both ends, his grip just barely holding. Another cleave made sparks. The third gave him an opening. Alexander ducked, blade swinging overhead, and slammed the drawer into the side of the Hobgoblin's leg and snapped it, the knee unnaturally bent sideways.

It yelled in pain, hacked again, but this one had a weak grip. As the edge bit into the drawer, the sword clattered from its hand and fell to the side, tumbling, rattling everything it clanged. The hobgoblin reached to its shoulder, to snatch that dagger Alexander threw, and a final slam shattered its leg completely. As soon as weight was put on it, the Hobgoblin dropped onto its back with a shocked groan, stubbornly trying to get up.

Alexander dropped the drawer and mounted it. “Zero.”

[Skill Activation]

“Human—!”

[Inexhaustible Flurry]

Knuckles blasted its skull over and over. Teeth popped from its mouth, the nose was cracked in and bent, the cheekbones completely crushed, everything breaking one-by-one. By the time [Inexhaustible Flurry] had expired, he was still punching, fueled by adrenaline. It was only until he heard a ding when he stopped.

[You have killed a D3 Hobgoblin!]

Alexander heaved, slowly pulling his fists back. The Hobgoblin, like earlier, was more red than green. And pink. His knuckles didn’t hurt either. He supposed that was the benefit of having [Iron Knuckles]; otherwise, he would’ve broken his hands. Speaking of them, they too were red and pink.

He fell back, sitting, conquering his first challenge of the night.

There, he waited for the familiar, cheery sound.

Ding ding ding!

[Quest Update]

Five Minutes is completed!

You have been rewarded:

5000 standards

Item - Protector’s Shortsword

“Good morning, world,” Alexander sarcastically said, staring at the ceiling. The lights were still on miraculously. Not for much longer, he suspected. It was only a matter of time until they targeted the power grid.

From the corner of his eyes, he saw the newly Pseudo-Slayers arise fresh, surviving the process. Some looked terrified still, some looked secure and undaunted, some were too occupied by countless blue screens; meanwhile some, particularly two, called his name and scrambled over. A flash of red and brown hair entered his vision; he preferred the latter. God, he preferred the later. She was scared out of her mind, taking his arms and cleaning off the blood to search for wounds.

“I’m fine,” Alexander assured her, standing up. “It’s uhm, it’s not mine.”

The three looked at the Hobgoblin. It had no face.

Damien patted his back. Awkwardly. “Good job.”

“Thanks,” deadpanned Alexander. He looked around and found a man staring at him. A middle-aged man, surprisingly calm despite the disaster. He knew him. The head of security of System Articles; seemed like he stayed here knowing Alexander was the right bet to place. The man nodded, and he nodded back, both turning to their own duties. “So, now what?”

Leona occupied herself with wiping the blood from Alexander’s hands with a spare shirt. “Now we need to find a way to reach Althea and Vernon.”

Damien sighed, putting a hand on his hip. “Am I lucky to have stalked you. What should we do now, Alex? You’re our team leader here.”

“This.” He pulled open a screen and pressed a few buttons.

[You have invited Leona Ahn to your party]

[You have invited Damien Fayer to your party]

They both accepted.

“Take the time to set up your profiles,” he told them. “If you’re stuck, there’ll be tutorials to help. I don’t think another wave is coming right away, but…” Alexander glanced outside. Monsters roamed the streets. “Well, they won’t make it easy for us.”

“Not at all…” Damien concurred, his voice trailing seeing the sight out there. Black smoke absorbed red and blue lights, flashing between the two. In the distance, on the coast, some sort of a whale-thing emerged from the waters, and a few Slayers were engaged in a long battle. They slung spells and projectiles at its skin, and humanity was brought back to the days of whale-hunting. “...At a sight like this, I’m tempted to say this is the end of the world.”

I saw this sight once before. Honestly, I’d say the same thing still. “Yeah. Damien, think your dad will bust in and save us?”

“I don’t think so. He has to get through the worst disaster of all: bureaucracy.” After he said that, the lights above began flickering. It was a matter of time before the electricity shuts down.

Alexander didn’t want to respond to an answer like that.

From the far right, a great distance away, a shooting star rose, blasting into the skies. It was Kosmos. No one could see his face, but all knew the pure white trail he left whenever he soared. Taking to the clouds, he and he alone faced the Cosmic Beast above. Once he too became the sparkling stars, a golden dome began to form around Ordo, starting from the borders and meeting at the center, higher than the skyscrapers.

Everyone’s phones buzzed.

ORDO ALERT SYSTEM:

THE ORDO OUTBREAK BARRIER HAS BEEN RAISED! SEEK IMMEDIATE SHELTER AND AWAIT FURTHER DIRECTIONS! DO NOT ENACT THE PSEUDO-SLAYER EMERGENCE PROCESS UNLESS IN DIRE EMERGENCY!

The Ordo Outbreak Barrier was intended to keep the monsters in and prevented them from fleeing to the outside world. However, it also meant everyone inside Ordo was trapped. The Hangzhou Disaster lasted three weeks; Alexander didn’t know how long this would last. He thought back on the logistics.

The Five Pillars maintained the Ordo Outbreak Barrier, one for each borough: Dawns (the one he was currently in), Vesper, Windvent, Creekwood, and Flares. All five needed to fall in order to collapse the dome.

“Alex,” said Leona, pointing to a rooftop across the street.

A large group of people waved at them; having nothing else to do, Alexander waved back. I’m sorry, but I don’t have time to rescue you. I need to find Althea first.

“You know,” began Alexander, “all I wanted to do was go home and have hot pot. Suddenly, I found myself killing goblins and punching their captain to death.” And I’m scared. “I never thought I would be in the epicenter of another outbreak.” Or whatever this is. “I never thought I'd be covered in blood again.” Once too many. “Or fight to survive.” Or fight at all.

“I’m with you, Alexander,” Leona told him. A gentle warmth formed in his chest. “We’ll find Althea together.”

“I’m with you too,” said Damien. “What are friends for? If not fighting to survive? You can’t take all the glory, can you?”

Alexander nodded. “Thank you.”

It was the first hour of the Ordo Disaster, or however they will name it months from now. When death became commonplace, the Slayer System alerted them: a new expedition was made, and a quest was given.

~

[Special Expedition]

Besieged Ordo

Unknown forces have invaded Ordo, seeking to exterminate the entire population, and then the world. You cannot let that happen.

Expedition Rank:

N/A

Victory Condition:

The [???] are defeated

Rewards:

500,000 standards

Title - Survivor of Ordo

~

[Main Quest]

Survive the Siege

As a Pseudo-Slayer, you have the means to survive the invasion. It is imperative that you complete quests throughout this time to increase your odds of survival. Let the siege test your resolve.

Victory Condition:

Stage 1: Survive for 60 minutes

Stage 2: Survive for 24 hours

Stage 3: Survive for 72 hours

Stage 4: Survive for 1 week

Stage 5: Survive until the end

Defeat Condition:

The Ordo Outbreak Barrier falls

Rewards:

Stage 1:

12,500 standards

Slayer Shop unlocked

Slayer Gift 1

Stage 2:

25,000 standards

Slayer Gift 2

Stage 3:

50,000 standards

Slayer Gift 3

Stage 4:

75,000 standards

Slayer Gift 4

Stage 5:

“Besieged Ordo” completion awards