This happened a month before the monsters began appearing, back when the world still believed it made sense.
It was just past midnight in Pasay City.
The flickering sign of a local Seveleventh convenience store buzzed faintly in the humid air.
Inside, under harsh fluorescent lights, people lingered in quiet, late-night routine, grabbing snacks, half-awake, half-bored.
Then the door opened, and everything changed.
A man stepped in, tall, imposing, and dressed almost entirely in black. A plain black t-shirt, black cargo pants, and a desert camo ballistic vest strapped over his chest. A dark hoodie cloaked his upper body, and a full-face mask, cracked down one side, hid his identity entirely.
He didn't say a word.
The store's security guard stiffened instantly. His hand instinctively drifted toward the revolver holstered at his hip. He took a cautious step forward, eyes locked on the stranger.
"Sir," he called out, trying to keep his voice calm, "are you with the police or military?"
Nearby customers turned their heads.
A young couple near the drinks cooler froze. A cashier stopped bagging chips.
The masked man paused, glancing over his shoulder. His voice was calm, emotionless. "Why does that matter?"
The guard's jaw tensed. "Civilians aren't allowed to possess or wear that kind of vest, especially in public." he explained. "And our store policy requires you to remove your mask before entering."
The man ignored him, casually turning toward the aisles.
"I'm not in the mood," he said flatly.
"Don't bother me."
That was enough.
"Sir," the guard warned, louder now, hand fully on his weapon. "I won't ask again. Take off the vest. And the mask."
The air inside the store turned heavy.
In one smooth motion, the masked man drew a blade, a long, matte-black combat knife. The guard reacted fast, pulling his revolver and firing two quick shots.
*BANG BANG*
Screams erupted as customers ducked and scattered. A display of instant noodles crashed to the floor.
But the masked man didn't fall. He didn't even flinch.
In a blink, he was gone from where he stood—only to reappear silently behind the guard. A single, precise strike to the back of the neck dropped the man like a puppet with cut strings. Unconscious. Alive. Barely.
The masked man continued on, unbothered. He walked to the ready-to-eat meals section, picked out three packs of pork sisig, and grabbed a cold glass bottle of alcohol from the fridge.
The panic hadn't stopped. Some customers had fled. Others stayed frozen behind shelves or under counters, afraid to even breathe.
At the register, a young cashier—barely twenty, hands trembling—waited in terror as he approached.
"T-That'll be... 254 pesos, sir..." she stammered, barely above a whisper.
He reached into his pocket and wordlessly handed her a 500-peso bill. She fumbled with the register, heart racing, and handed him his change in shaking hands before packing his items into a paper bag.
He took the bag, nodded slightly, and said with a cold finality:
"Thanks."
Then he turned and walked out the door.
Outside, the street was dim, bathed in flickering light and silence. The man barely made it twenty feet before a voice pierced the air like a dagger.
"You've violated the Chief's orders. Don't cause a scene before the event."
He stopped.
The voice came from above—a woman crouched atop a nearby utility pole. Her figure was slim, dressed in assassin-like combat gear. A scarf wrapped around her face, and a black-bladed katana glinted on her back.
"You know the rules." she said coldly, dropping lightly to the pavement. "Surrender quietly, or I will kill you."
Silence.
Then—pffssshh—a pair of smoke grenades clattered to the ground and erupted into thick, choking clouds.
"Cheap tricks!" she shouted, unsheathing her blade with a metallic hiss and cutting through the smoke in one sweeping arc.
She caught him trying to flee—blades clashing as he spun to counter her strike. Steel rang out in the quiet street. The System's interface flickered before her eyes:
> | [Eagle Vision] Activated. Perception +100% for 3 minutes.
Her world sharpened. The masked man's movement slowed in her mind. She could read every shift of his weight, every twitch of his grip.
"You can't hide," she said. "Not from me."
They moved like phantoms—blade against katana, vanishing and reappearing with every clash. Sparks burst from steel. Asphalt cracked beneath their feet.
Then the man grinned behind his mask.
"You don't want a scene?" he said, raising his hand toward a nearby residential block. "How about I kill all of them?"
A glowing orb formed in his palm—pulsing, unstable, thrumming with lethal energy—and shot toward the neighborhood.
"No—!" she shouted, lunging forward.
She intercepted it midair with her blade, activating a skill:
> | [Slashing Fury]
Dozens of high-speed strikes exploded from her sword. The orb shattered—
But something else emerged from within.
A tall, grotesque humanoid figure. Muscles twisted, skin like cracked armor, with glowing crimson eyes and clawed hands. The monster landed with a seismic thud and lunged at her.
She blocked, barely, but was sent flying through a metal fence, crashing into a parked tricycle.
"This is bad," she gasped, coughing. "I can't cause a scene—but I can't let this thing go loose either."
The monster roared, slamming into the ground and tearing through the street. Buildings shook. Civilians screamed in the distance.
She bit her lip.
"No choice."
> | [Instant Decimation] Activated
In a blur of motion, she launched forward. Her katana struck the monster dozens of times in less than a second, slashes too fast to see, too violent to withstand. Blood—if that's what it was—sprayed across the street as the creature collapsed in twitching pieces.
She stood over it, panting.
The body began to dissolve into shimmering dust.
Sirens wailed in the distance.
"Shit."
She vanished into the shadows just as the police arrived—guns drawn, orders shouted.
A black SUV pulled up moments later. From it stepped a tall man in a crisp uniform—decorated, composed, cold. Officers snapped to attention.
"Status?" he asked, his voice level but dangerous.
"Sir," his assistant began, "we have multiple civilian injuries, a confirmed awakened confrontation, and one unknown-class monster, now deceased. No confirmed ID on either combatant."
"And the body?"
"Already disintegrating, sir. Nothing left to recover."
He stared at the faint traces of dust on the ground, silent.
"Keep it quiet," he finally said. "No leaks. Cover it up, kill the witnesses. No one else should know about this, not even the government."
The assistant hesitated. "But sir…"
He didn't respond. He was already walking back to the vehicle, the gears in his head turning.
--TO BE CONTINUED--