CHAPTER 230: NOT A REAL GAME

The sky was dark—not from storm clouds, but because the sun had long since retreated, leaving the moon to take its place, veiled shyly behind layers of apocalyptic haze.

The storm had ended. The heavy raindrops that once hammered the earth were gone, leaving behind shallow pools and a lingering chemical odor that clung to the air.

The convoy pressed forward, the roar of the military hummers echoing through the silent wasteland. Their reinforced tires sliced through mud and stagnant water without pause, advancing steadily until the towering concrete walls of Shelter City 8 came into view.

The battlefield outside the city had already been wiped clean. The rain had washed away the blood and filth, while work crews had cleared the dismembered bodies of the mutants. The scarred, barren land now lay disturbingly calm, as if the slaughter that had taken place only hours before had never happened.

As the convoy reached the city, the massive reinforced gates opened without question or delay. No words were exchanged. The vehicles rolled through in heavy silence.

Every soldier stationed along the walls, even those hidden from direct view, turned to acknowledge their passage. Whether standing guard at the gates or patrolling the battlements, each offered a sharp salute. Their faces betrayed their tension and uncertainty, but military discipline held firm. Respect was rendered—not to protocol, but to something far more unsettling.

The real aftermath of the battle became clear only after they entered the city.

Shelter City 8 should have been silent by now. At this hour, especially after such a brutal storm, its rain-soaked streets ought to have been deserted. Yet the roads were packed. Thousands stood along the main avenue, stretching as far as the eye could see, flanking both sides of the route the convoy followed.

Inside the armored hummer, Adyr watched in silence, his gaze flat as the headlights swept over the mass of waiting bodies. Word had spread, fast and wide. These people knew exactly who was returning.

Most of them wore cheap, disposable masks and plastic goggles, a thin defense against the chemical sting that still lingered in the air. Their fragile human bodies weren’t built for exposure. But they stood anyway, crowded together, their feet caked in mud, their shoulders hunched beneath cheap raincoats, refusing to leave.

Even mutants had gathered among them, their altered bodies not needing protection, yet their faces held the same restless need: to see with their own eyes, not through a screen.

Overhead, media drones hovered constantly, engines whining in the night air, their cold lights flickering as they recorded every moment. Each angle, every expression, was broadcast across the world in real time.

And yet... the crowd remained silent.

No applause. No cheering. No outcry. Just a heavy, breathless quiet that pressed down harder than the chemical fog.

Adyr’s gaze flicked across them all, observing without emotion. He noted every expression as if they were data points. Some people stood motionless, their faces streaked with silent tears, staring with hollow, glassy eyes. Others gripped the hands of children or clutched photos of the dead, hatred burning so clearly in their gazes that even the passing headlights couldn’t wash it away.

But mixed among the grief were younger faces, watching him not with hate, but with something more dangerous—quiet reverence. He could read it in their eyes. They weren’t seeing a monster. They were seeing a possibility.

Neither grief nor admiration dominated. This wasn’t a hero’s return. It wasn’t the arrival of a savior.

It was something much heavier.

A procession of the damned. A city too afraid to choose between gratitude and blame.

"When a soldier returns from war, their own people greet them as heroes," Rhys said from the front seat, his voice calm but edged, "while the enemy’s people harbor nothing but hatred. So don’t let them make you feel like you did something wrong."

It was clear who his message was meant for.

Selina and the others glanced sideways at Adyr’s calm expression, waiting to see how he would react, but there was nothing—no sign of disturbance, no flicker of emotion.

"I understand," Adyr replied quietly, his eyes still fixed outside the window.

This was not an unfamiliar scene to him. In his previous life, he had been a feared and twisted serial killer who earned the hatred of millions. Strangely, he had also gained the grudging love and respect of many.

Even while awaiting his death sentence in prison, hundreds of letters arrived every day—some filled with hate and fury, but many others carrying praise, respect, and unconditional admiration. Messages from those who looked up to him, men who revered him, and even women who dreamed of carrying his child. The world has never lacked twisted minds, so in this way, nothing had really changed.

Too bad I could have gained a lot of experience points from all those deaths if this were a real game, Adyr thought with a hint of amusement as he focused his energy body in Twilight Land.

The Mother Tree stood in all its glory, its crystal leaves hanging motionless in the still air, radiating majesty across the small island. But the tree’s splendor didn’t catch Adyr’s attention—it was fixed on a small red fruit nestled among the leaves.

Exactly 24 hours had passed since he took the treasure, and finally, the tree had borne its first upgraded fruit.

His energy form hovered in the air, drawing closer to the fruit before plucking it from its branch.

Compared to the previous version that granted only one stat point, this one didn’t look much different—only its color was deeper, richer.

He brought it to his mouth and took a bite. The outer layer cracked with a crisp, satisfying sound, revealing a juicy, tender interior that melted in his mouth.

"At least the taste could have improved more," his faceless energy form seemed to frown, tasting the raw, somewhat bitter fruit again.

Fortunately, a system message appeared before him, promising to sweeten that disappointing flavor.

[You gained 3 free stat points.]

"Nice," Adyr muttered with satisfaction. He then planted 30 energy crystals into the soil at the base of the tree, nourishing it for the next fruit.

"I need a lot more energy now."

That thought cut through his brief joy, preventing him from fully enjoying the gain of those 3 stat points.