Chapter 1: First Beta of Cosmic Terror
Money.
The one thing humanity cannot live without.
The greatest thing in today’s world, something that can never be overcome or changed.
In the modern world, if you have no money, you are nothing.
Dean was exactly that sort of person.
He was a young man with no family, who had grown up in an orphanage and had eventually tried to make his way in the real world.
At twenty-one, he worked twelve hours a day, had just one day off a week, and had a minimal social life.
"Sigh..."
In the middle of his work, whilst carrying a few parcels, he had let out an involuntary sigh.
He clutched his back and tried to tend to the pain for a while.
Still, Dean’s life... wasn’t quite as normal as people might think.
For the past eleven years of his life, something had happened every single day of every single month of every single year.
Just like right now.
[Congratulations, Host!
You’ve just received the daily random reward: 10,000,000 Nether and Aether Coins.]
[Task 1: Embodiment of Good
Spend at least 100,000 Nether and Aether Coins.
Reward: Sacred Pill]
Whilst Dean was fiddling with his belt, he saw this thing, this system window, again and muttered, "So it’s ten million today..."
He’d seen this system window every single day for the past eleven years.
The others at the orphanage had called him mad, simply because of this.
Dean, however, had managed to get to the point where he could hide this thing very well indeed.
He had a great deal of money.
That is to say... he had money within the system.
Yet, no matter what he did or said, he had never, ever been able to use that money.
Every day, he’d earned at least millions of coins.
Lost in these thoughts, the young man rubbed his lower back for a while, and just then he heard someone shouting at him:
"Dean!"
When the young man turned towards the voice, he saw an elderly man with a bald patch on the top of his head.
This was the factory manager, the man who had taken Dean on during difficult times.
"Yes, boss!" Dean called out.
"To my office, now," said the factory manager.
Dean took a deep breath.
He knew this day would come.
Over the past two months, more than a quarter of the factory’s workforce had been made redundant. The only reason someone like Dean could still be working here was that he knew the factory manager.
The young man walked with determined steps towards the office and entered shortly afterwards.
As soon as he pulled up a chair and sat down, the factory manager began to speak:
"You know I like you, lad. We met a couple of years ago, and I gave you a job. You did an amazing job, and I tried to help you as much as I could. I found you a cheap place to stay and even gave you the food my wife cooked for you."
"Still, you know how things work. I’m practically handcuffed. We’re going to automate most of the factory. Just know that you’re not without skills. We need to do this to make better progress."
When Dean heard these words, all he could do was shake his head.
He already had quite a bit of money. Well, not exactly, but he wasn’t going to end up on the streets just because he’d been made redundant. He had enough to get by for at least a couple of months.
"Still, I’ve made sure to give you the best severance pay. With this, you’ll have more money. Treat yourself to something nice, have a bit of fun for a month or two, and then look for a new job."
"I’ve already terminated the contract. I’ll transfer the money to you today. You may leave."
At the factory manager’s words, Dean smiled.
"Thank you for all your help over the years, sir," said the young man.
He then stood up and walked towards the office door to leave.
Just as he opened the office door and took a step out, he heard the factory manager’s voice again.
"I’m sorry, son."
With that, Dean left the office.
There was a bathroom in the factory where he could have a shower.
As the young man had been checking the metal packaging machines, he was most likely aware that he smelled of iron.
He had gone to the factory bathroom to have a quick shower.
When he stepped out of the shower and stood in front of one of the bathroom windows, he could see it.
"Sigh..."
[Balance: 666,155,000,000,000 Nether and Aether Coins]
Above his head, that system window, which he saw several times a day, had appeared, displaying the amount of money he possessed.
A sum of 666 trillion.
A colossal amount that no human could even dream of possessing.
Money that couldn’t be spent, simply left as it was.
Dean got dressed in no time and, after saying goodbye to some of his colleagues, left the factory.
He took the bus home and, the moment he arrived, flung himself onto the bed.
He wanted to sleep.
Having done nothing but work for so long, this was truly the only thing he wanted to do.
He closed his eyes to sleep.
"Drop..."
Dean felt something dripping onto him.
When he opened his eyes again, he noticed writing beginning to form on the ceiling of his room.
When he sniffed the drop that had fallen on him, he realised it smelled of heavy iron.
It was a red drop.
"Is this fucking blood?" muttered the young man.
Within mere seconds, the writing on the ceiling had become clearer and more legible.
[Congratulations, host!
You have gained the opportunity to enter the game!
The Gates of Hell and Heaven are finally open!
Global Entry will open very shortly.
The DUNGEON will begin at 13:33:33.]
Dean read the writing on the ceiling carefully and noticed that it was slowly beginning to fade away.
"What is this?" muttered the young man, with a mixture of astonishment and, frankly, a touch of fear.
He had even thought that he had long since fallen asleep and was having a dream.
Still, he was aware that it was impossible to read anything in a dream.
"In thirteen hours..." the young man had said. He had rushed straight to the bathroom and looked at himself in the mirror.
When he saw that sum of money hovering above his head once more, he smiled and then said, "Let it come."
If he wasn’t imagining things, if he wasn’t in a dream, and if the gates of Hell and Heaven had truly opened, the young man would finally be able to spend his money.
He wasn’t mad.
He was about to cease being what everyone called him.
He just had to wait thirteen hours.
The wait had begun.
Over the course of thirteen hours, he’d eaten only two meals and changed his clothes.
He didn’t know what he was in for, but at least he was aware that he could wait whilst being prepared.
His eyes were dark and puffy from lack of sleep. Yet he was ready.
The minutes had ticked by and the time was up.
At that moment, Dean’s surroundings began to change.
A message similar to the one he’d seen on the ceiling, written in blood, appeared:
[Time has come!
Global Entry opened.
Starting today, selected people will be able to enter the game.
The first Beta of Cosmic Terror has started.
Good luck to all participants.]
As the text appeared, a pool of blood formed around Dean and suddenly engulfed him.
When the young man opened his eyes again, he could do nothing but smile.
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