Entering Apocalypse in Easy-Mode-Chapter 560: Savage

The train station loomed ahead like a rusted carcass, its broken clock frozen at an hour that no longer mattered.

Cracked glass littered the ground, crunching beneath Ray’s boots as he slowed his pace.

The laughter faded from his throat, replaced by a sharp, eager focus.

The blade pulsed harder.

"Careful. This place is not empty," it whispered.

Ray inhaled deeply. The air smelled different here, filled with old oil, dust, and beneath it all, fear. Fresh fear.

"Oh?" he murmured. "Good."

Inside the station, the world shifted. Dim blue light flickered into existence as translucent panels snapped into place around the ticket hall.

Vending machines stood untouched, their metal warped, while overturned benches formed crude barricades.

A handful of people were inside, armed with pipes, knives, and one trembling pistol. They froze when they saw him.

A man shouted first. "S-stay back!"

Ray stopped walking. He tilted his head, studying them like animals penned in a cage. His smile crept back slowly and deliberately.

The blade also laughed softly. "See how they look at you? They already know."

A glowing interface appeared before Ray’s eyes.

[Safe Trading Zone Detected.]

[Violence Restricted Within Core Area.]

Ray clicked his tongue. "That’s annoying."

"Temporary," the blade soothed. "Rules exist to be broken. But for now... let’s just focus on shopping."

The survivors watched in stunned silence as Ray walked past them, blood still dripping from his sleeves. A system terminal hovered near the old ticket counter, humming faintly. Ray placed a hand on it.

Items available flickered into view. The items were:

Basic armor, reinforced vests, bladed gauntlets, and darker items locked behind higher requirements.

Ray’s eyes lingered on one set in particular.

Blackened chest armor etched with crimson lines that had the effect of damage reduction and amplifies killing intent.

His grin widened.

"I like this one," he said.

The blade shivered in pleasure. "Excellent choice. It suits you."

The moment Ray equipped it, the armor fused against his body, cold at first, then warm.

He felt it tighten, adapt to his body and strengthen him. Heavier and denser power surged through him.

His breath came out slow and satisfied.

A few survivors backed away in terror.

Ray turned toward them. For a second, something unreadable crossed his face. Then the system warning flickered again, reminding him of the rules.

He scoffed. "Relax. I’m not going to do anything to you."

The blade whispered, amused. "Not yet."

Ray stepped away from the terminal and headed for the exit.

As he crossed the threshold of the station, the restriction vanished.

Ray rolled his neck once and tightened his grip on the blade.

"So, am I strong enough to kill that Lunar Beast now?" he said quietly, excitement crawling into his voice.

The blade’s whisper was eager and hungry. "You are ready. Let’s search for that beast."

Ray moved without hesitation, following the pull in his chest rather than any visible sign.

The blade guided him, its voice slipping into his thoughts like a hand on his spine.

"Turn left. Not there... further. Yes. You feel it, don’t you?"

Ray did feel it. A faint pressure in the air.

He passed through narrow streets and broken intersections, stepping over corpses he hadn’t made and a few he had. His pace was unhurried and confident.

"So when do we fight it?" Ray asked.

The blade hummed, then answered softly. "Not yet. The Lunar Beast hunts at its peak. Night strengthens it so we wait till night comes."

Ray glanced up at the sky. The sun still hung low, pale and weak. He clicked his tongue but didn’t argue.

"Fine. Then I’ll go grab something to eat."

He broke into a convenience store that had already been looted down to scraps.

Ray didn’t care. He grabbed whatever remained. Dry crackers, canned meat, a bottle of water that tasted faintly of rust.

He ate standing up, blood still drying on his face and neck.

He didn’t bother to wipe it away and didn’t bother to wash it. The armor had replaced his clothes anyway, black and crimson plates hugging his body like a second skin.

The blade watched in silence, satisfied.

Hours passed. Ray sat on the roof of a low building, legs dangling over the edge, chewing slowly while staring at the city.

The world felt smaller now. As if it knew something was coming.

When the sun finally sank, the air changed.

The first long and warped howl tore through the streets, echoing off concrete and glass.

Ray stood.

Another howl answered it. Then another.

From alleyways and broken buildings, shapes began to crawl out. They were once human and animals.

Their bodies were twisted, wrapped in pale muscle and covered in white fur that gleamed under the moonlight.

Limbs bent the wrong way, their jaws stretched too wide, and their yyes glowed dull and empty.

These were the spawns of the Lunar Beast.

Ray’s smile spread slowly.

The blade whispered, thrilled. "There they are. Feel it. The call. The master is near."

The creatures sniffed the air, then turned toward him all at once.

Ray rolled his shoulders, tightening his grip on the blade.

"Good. I was getting bored," he said softly.

The spawns hissed and charged and rushed him from all sides.

Ray moved.

There was no signal or conscious decision. His body reacted before his mind could catch up.

The first spawn reached him and lost its head in a blur of red and black steel. The blade slid through bone and fur like it was cutting smoke.

Another leapt from the side. Ray twisted, letting instinct guide him, and drove the blade upward through its jaw.

The creature convulsed, then collapsed at his feet.

They came faster after that.

White shapes poured out of the darkness, claws scraping, mouths howling as they surrounded him.

Ray didn’t retreat. He stepped forward into them, carving their fleshes.

His movements were raw and unpolished but brutally efficient.

Pain flared at his body as claws raked across his side. Something slammed into his back hard enough to knock the breath from his lungs.

Ray staggered, but his teeth bared in a grin.

The black armor absorbed it.

He felt the impact, felt the force, but the claws failed to break through. Crimson lines across the chest plate flared faintly as if drinking in the violence.

Another hit landed against his ribs. Then another.

Ray laughed.

"Is that all?!" he shouted.

He surged forward again. The blade screamed with delight in his hand as it fed.

Blood sprayed across the asphalt. White fur darkened and clumped together as bodies fell one after another.

The spawns tried to overwhelm him by sheer number. They piled in, claws and teeth tearing at him, knocking him to one knee.

For a moment, Ray was buried beneath snapping jaws and thrashing limbs.

Then he exploded upward.

The blade spun in tight arcs, ripping through everything within reach. Heads rolled and limbs flew. The mass collapsed into twitching pieces around him.

Warmth flooded his body.

Power poured into him like a tide, sinking into muscle and bone. A familiar sensation burned behind his eyes.

[Level Up: Level 36.]

Ray sucked in a sharp breath and kept moving.

Another wave rushed him. He welcomed it.

He charged, meeting them head-on. Every kill came easier than the last.

The city echoed with wet impacts and dying howls until the street was nothing but silence and corpses.

The final spawn fell with a gurgling whine.

Ray stood alone, chest rising and falling, blade dripping at his side. Blood ran down the armor and pooled at his feet.

The warmth surged again, stronger this time.

[Level Up: Level 37.]

Ray wiped his face with the back of his hand, smearing dried blood further across his skin. His grin was wide and unrestrained.

Somewhere in the distance, a deeper, longer, and heavier howl answered. Filled with hunger.

The Lunar Beast was awake.

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