CHAPTER 101: END OF BREAKTHROUGH TRIAL

His questions were answered a few minutes after.

An unexpected one.

A combination of the zombie apocalypse and a meteor shower.

It was devastating, far more devastating than he ever imagined.

The world burned, and those whose facilities were strong enough to withstand the meteor were consumed by the virus as it gradually chewed down humanity’s population. When it dropped past fifty percent, Marlon experienced death as usual.

He went ahead with the sixth one immediately, this time purchasing more skills and even his absolute attack talent.

But he met the same result. Another zombie apocalypse. Another death at the hands of his real body.

Even though he fought with everything he had, his doppelganger seemed to possess a magnified version of all his abilities, granting it effortless victory.

With frustration boiling inside him, he kickstarted the seventh round. He used everything he could think of, charisma to sway the world and strength to protect himself, but absolutely nothing changed.

Then the eighth came...

Before he knew it, he was gradually getting used to the sickening ideology of a second chance.

And in the blink of a moment, he was already dying in his twentieth round.

His frustration and anger surged as he began his twenty-first round.

Regret tore through the tiny bit of inner peace he had managed to gather.

His confidence vanished, replaced with a constant loop of discouraged thoughts.

He always did his best in every round, fixing everything that went wrong previously. Yet every improvement only caused the entire flow of events to twist against him. Every patch he made turned worse than before.

And just like that, on his fiftieth round, the steps he needed to take had exceeded one hundred.

"Fuck!"

His voice tore through the room instantly.

He was enraged beyond anything he had ever felt.

The system had played with his sanity for so long, and now it had finally succeeded in pushing him to the edge.

Marlon slammed his fists against the wall.

His hands bled, pain shot through his body, but he ignored all of it. Physical pain was nothing compared to the endless pain of dying over and over again.

"What do you want from me?!"

His scream echoed through the room and down the hallway, forcing everyone waiting outside to rush in, believing he was talking to someone.

But the moment they entered, he kicked them all out without a word and turned back to the wall, continuing to vent his rage.

He repeated his question again and again, and of course, there was no answer.

The system, or whoever controlled it, never responded when it mattered.

It only made him angrier.

He knew the system constantly planted questions in his mind, yet it never gave him explanations.

Talking to it felt like arguing with a mute. No. Worse. It felt like shouting at a cold, unresponsive brick wall.

And as if purposely provoking him, the system flashed before his eyes.

[ Your divine trial has begun ]

[ Title: Apocalypse Protector ]

[ Trials remaining: 1 ]

Details:

—The world will end very soon. As the Apocalypse Protector, your divine task is to ensure the total death of the population does not exceed 50 percent.

_If it does, you fail the trial.

[ You can access important information from the apocalypse panel ]

[ You’ve failed four trials woefully.

As a result, you’ve been given the opportunity to exchange your trials for your original abilities. ]

[ You can use the Exchange Panel to view more details. ]

The moment he saw this, something inside him snapped.

Marlon started punching the holographic window, even though he knew it wouldn’t break.

"What is the use of the fucking exchange panel?! I have just one fucking trial left! That isn’t even enough to get me a single stat point to improve my survival rate!"

His roar echoed down the hallway, where more guards and staff had gathered. They watched helplessly, listening to their young master lose his mind.

Hearing the things he shouted, they exchanged confused looks.

None of them understood a single thing he was talking about.

Their young master was a role model to many, and as the future president of a nation, his life had always been controlled with discipline and structure.

This behaviour was nothing like him.

A few of them even began to wonder if he had secretly started taking drugs.

"What do you fucking want from me?"

Marlon barked.

He punched the wall again with full strength, and this time he heard the crack of his own bone.

He lifted his fist and stared at it. It was drenched in blood — the skin had peeled off and the bones were exposed.

Yet he remained unfazed, as if it was only a scratch.

The pain meant nothing.

"I have given my all. I have accepted the bullshits you wanted me to accept. I even got a chance to reflect and repent on some shitty behaviours, but you’re still not satisfied."

He barked again.

"Is the breakthrough trial not meant to test a hunter’s strength, to see if they’re capable of entering the next rank?"

He continued quickly.

"Then why is mine different? I’m not allowed to use my powers. The scenarios themselves are not even consistent."

"Even if you want to frustrate me with a loop, at least pretend you’re not trying to break me."

"And if your plan was to break me, you’ve succeeded."

"Do whatever you want. Eternal death? Fine. I don’t care."

"I have died a dozen times. A final one would be mercy."

That was his conclusion.

He had given up on everything.

Winning the trial, going back to Arden.

They all seemed like fairy tales at this point.

He just wanted everything to end, even if it meant losing his life permanently.

This was the mental result of the trials so far.

After a few minutes, he sat on the bed, something he would not dare to do in the previous round.

Right now, he only wanted to stall for time until everything was over.

He grudgingly opened the apocalypse panel.

Surprisingly, this round was meant to last twenty four hours, longer than the previous thirty or so trials.

And he understood the system again — just when he gave up, it gave him more time. It was bait, a trap meant to lure him into trying again so they could watch him fail.

He decided he would not fall for it.

He made a final decision to wait.

Minutes turned into one hour, and after a while, two hours passed.

Time moved painfully slow and he hated it.

He wanted everything to end quickly.

So a thought rose in his mind.

A dark one.

He had to take something precious from himself.

As that thought formed, a sudden realisation followed.

He rethought the previous fifty trials, processed everything, and a faint glimmer of hope appeared, even though it was a dark one.

With renewed determination, he stood and strolled out of the room.

He walked past the staff gathered outside, ignoring the fact they had heard everything he said. He did not care.

To him, they were nothing but unreal characters in an unreal world. They did not matter.

Marlon entered the kitchen, and his eyes fell on a knife resting on the neat table. Without ceremony, he picked it up and observed the sharp blade.

"Young master."

Brandon and the middle aged cook rushed into the kitchen.

Terror washed across their faces.

The look in Marlon’s eyes and the way he held the knife told them everything.

"Please, whatever you’re going through, talk to us. Just put the knife down."

"Your life is precious, please listen to us."

They pleaded with him, tears streaming from the corners of their eyes — They felt genuine pity for their young master. In their eyes, the responsibility he carried at such a young age had driven him insane.

But their tears and words meant nothing. Marlon had already reached his conclusion.

He lifted the knife with an emotionless expression and plunged it into his stomach.

Time seemed to slow instantly.

Brandon and the cook’s eyes widened, and without hesitation they threw themselves at him in a desperate attempt to save him.

But they were too late.

The sharp blade sank into Marlon’s stomach, sending a chilling pain through his body until everything faded. He blacked out and finally gave up the ghost.

But just as he died, he heard a ding sound, followed by phrases he never expected to hear.

...

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