My Origin System

The Universal trial begins

Chapter 2

Owen's lungs burned as he sprinted across the factory yard.

Behind him, screams echoed through the building, followed by wet tearing sounds that made his stomach twist. He didn't dare look back. Every instinct screamed the same thing.

Run.

The factory gate came into view.

Two security guards stood beside the entrance, rifles hanging loosely from their shoulders. Neither of them noticed him at first. They were staring into the darkness beyond the fence as if they had forgotten where they were.

Owen's pounding footsteps finally snapped them out of it.

"Hey!" one of them barked. "Where are you running to?"

He doubled over, struggling to catch his breath.

"The workers..." he gasped. "They're attacking people... biting them... They're turning into zombies!"

The guards frowned.

"Zombies?" one repeated.

The older guard snorted. "Kid, have you lost your mind?"

"If you don't believe me..." he pointed toward the factory behind him. "...go inside."

Another bloodcurdling scream rang out.

"...If you make it back out."

He turned to leave.

A hand grabbed his shoulder.

"Hold on."

Before either of them could say another word, hurried footsteps thundered toward the gate.

More workers burst out of the factory.

Some were covered in blood.

One man had lost a shoe.

A woman stumbled forward with tears streaming down her face, her entire body shaking.

The guards immediately stepped in front of the entrance.

"Stop!" one shouted. "What's going on?"

"M-Monsters..."

A worker pointed behind him with a trembling finger.

"They're eating people!"

Another collapsed onto his knees.

"They ripped them apart... They just... they just..."

His voice broke.

Fear spread through the crowd like wildfire.

Phones appeared in everyone's hands.

"Call the police!"

"My signal's gone!"

"I can't connect!"

"Try again!"

"I am!"

Every screen showed the same thing.

No Service.

"What do we do now?"

The question hung in the air.

Nobody answered.

Owen slowly looked back toward the factory.

The screaming had become fewer.

That wasn't a good sign.

"They're coming," he said quietly.

Everyone turned to him.

"Once they're done with the people still inside..."

He swallowed.

"...they'll come looking for more."

Silence.

Even the guards stopped arguing.

A cold breeze swept across the yard.

Then—

Ding!

A clear mechanical voice echoed inside his head.

A translucent blue screen unfolded before his eyes.

| The Universal Trial has officially begun. |

| Due to an unknown anomaly, Host has obtained the Origin System instead of the Universal Trial System. |

| The host must still participate in the trial. |

| Trial Objectives: Slay monsters. Close rifts. Clear dungeons. Grow stronger. Obtain immortality. |

Owen stared at the glowing words.

Origin System?

Universal Trial System?

What anomaly?

Monsters...

Rifts...

Dungeons...

Immortality...

None of it made any sense.

Had he finally gone mad?

Instinctively, he looked around.

In every apocalypse novel he had read, only the protagonist could see the system.

Was he?...

"No way..."

A man's voice interrupted his thoughts.

"Can anyone else see... a green glowing screen?"

Heads immediately turned.

"You too?" another worker asked, eyes wide. "It's floating right in front of me!"

"I thought I hit my head." A woman rubbed her eyes repeatedly. "It won't disappear."

"So it's real..."

His heartbeat quickened.

Then something caught his attention.

Their screens glowed green.

His...

His was blue.

He frowned.

Was that because his was the Origin System?

Before he could think any further—

The ground lurched violently.

BOOM!

The earth shook beneath their feet.

The factory walls groaned.

Cracks raced across the concrete like spiderwebs.

People screamed as they lost their balance.

Owen hit the ground hard, barely catching himself with his hands.

"What the hell?!"

The tremor grew even stronger.

Streetlights flickered.

Car alarms blared one after another.

In the distance...

Something enormous roared.

"Did... did you guys hear that?"

The woman's voice quivered.

No one answered.

The two security guards instinctively tightened their grips on their rifles, their eyes scanning the darkness beyond the gate.

He followed the direction of the roar.

The night had gone unnaturally still.

Then—

A low growl drifted through the air.

Another followed.

Then another.

The sound crawled beneath his skin.

Every muscle in his body locked.

Owen knew those growls.

They weren't dogs.

They weren't wild animals.

Slowly, almost as one, everyone turned toward the factory.

A figure staggered out through the entrance.

Its work uniform was soaked in blood. One arm hung limply at its side while fresh flesh dangled from its mouth.

John.

Or... what used to be John.

A cold chill raced down Owen's spine as he took an unconscious step backward.

John's head jerked upward.

Milky white eyes locked onto them.

Then his neck twisted sharply to one side with a sickening crack.

Another figure stumbled out behind him.

Then another.

And another.

Within seconds, nearly a dozen blood-soaked figures emerged from the factory doors.

They sniffed the air.

A chorus of guttural growls rolled across the yard.

Then they charged.

"Shit!"

The word escaped his lips before he could stop it.

He spun around and sprinted toward the gate.

"They can run..."

His heart nearly stopped.

These weren't the slow, mindless zombies from old movies.

They were wild zombies.

The kind that hunted.

Adapted.

Evolved.

"Run!" one of the security guards roared.

Panic flashed across the workers' faces.

Footsteps pounded against the concrete.

Someone screamed.

Someone else fell.

Owen didn't look back.

The gate rushed closer.

Locked.

Damn it!

"The keys!" He shouted.

A metallic object spun through the air.

He caught it with both hands, nearly dropping it as his fingers fumbled against the lock.

Come on...

Come on...

The key finally slid in.

Click.

He shoved both gates apart.

Cold night air rushed over him.

"Move!"

Workers poured through the opening, stumbling and shoving past one another.

The last person crossed.

He slammed the heavy gate shut with every ounce of strength he had.

Bang!

A heartbeat later—

Bodies crashed against the metal from the other side.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

The gate rattled violently.

Growls echoed through the bars.

Bloodstained hands reached between the gaps, clawing at empty air.

For a terrifying moment, he thought the hinges would give way.

But they held.

The pounding slowly became less frantic.

No one spoke.

The only sounds were ragged breathing and quiet sobs.

A woman hugged herself tightly, her shoulders shaking uncontrollably.

Another sank onto the curb, staring blankly at her bloodstained hands.

Finally, someone broke the silence.

"W-Why are we still standing here?"

Owen lifted his eyes toward the darkness beyond the road.

The memory of that monstrous roar still echoed in his ears.

"No."

His voice came out lower than he expected.

"We're not wandering around tonight."

Everyone looked at him.

"Whatever made the ground shake..."

He glanced toward the distant skyline.

"...it wasn't a zombie."

The words settled over the group like a heavy blanket.

"If something like that is out there..."

He swallowed.

"...walking blindly into the dark would be suicide."

Silence.

"So..." one of the guards asked quietly, "...what's the plan?"

He looked around the empty street.

Every building suddenly felt unfamiliar.

Every shadow seemed alive.

"We need to find somewhere secure."

He clutched the keys tightly in his hands.

"We survive the night."

"Tomorrow..."

He exhaled slowly.

"...we figure out what this world has become."

The warehouse wasn't far from the factory.

One of the security guards led the way, a ring of keys jingling softly in his hand. Everyone followed in silence, their footsteps cautious against the empty road.

No one dared to speak.

The streetlights flickered overhead, bathing the deserted streets in alternating patches of light and darkness. Every time the lights blinked out, Owen's heart skipped a beat.

The city felt... wrong.

Too quiet.

Too empty.

When they finally reached the warehouse, the guards hurried to unlock the gate.

The heavy metal doors groaned open.

Everyone slipped inside as quickly as possible, glancing over their shoulders before the gates were shut again.

The warehouse was enormous.

Stacks of cartons filled the building from floor to ceiling—soft drinks, bottled water, canned beverages, and countless other supplies. The faint smell of cardboard and plastic lingered in the air.

Owen walked away from the others and found a quiet corner near one of the walls.

Sliding down until he was seated on the cold concrete floor, he rested his head against the wall and closed his eyes for a moment.

No one suggested turning on the lights.

Good.

Darkness was unsettling, but bright lights could attract things that hunted.

The silence inside the warehouse was broken only by uneven breathing and the occasional muffled sob.

He pulled out his phone.

2:07 A.M.

Only a few hours had passed since his shift began.

Yet it felt like an entire lifetime ago.

His grip tightened around his phone.

Mom...

Was she safe?

Had the trial reached home too?

Taking a slow breath, he focused on the strange blue screen floating before his eyes.

| The Universal Trial has officially begun. |

| Host has obtained the Origin System instead of the Universal Trial System. |

The glowing words reflected in his eyes.

A thought suddenly struck him.

If everyone had received a system...

Then everyone had received the same mission.

Slay monsters. Close rifts. Clear dungeons. Grow stronger.

His blood ran cold.

Didn't that mean monsters would soon be everywhere?

And rifts.

He knew what rifts were. Every system novel described them the same way—gateways connecting to worlds filled with monsters. Once they appeared, death followed.

If that was true.

Then humanity wasn't facing a simple zombie outbreak.

This was an invasion.

A trial.

His fingers slowly curled into a fist.

Most people had never touched a web novel in their lives.

How many would understand what was happening?

How many would freeze in panic the moment a monster appeared?

Even those who read novels often spent their time immersed in billionaire romances, werewolf mates, or alpha CEOs.

Very few would recognize terms like rifts, dungeons, or system trials.

A bitter smile tugged at his lips.

For once...

Being addicted to online novels might actually save his life.

He focused his gaze on the glowing blue screen.

Origin System.

What exactly was it?

Where had it come from?

Why had it chosen him?

And...

Who had created this trial?

The warehouse remained silent.

No one had the answers.

Outside, somewhere in the sleeping city...

Something roared.