My Origin System

To rescue a little kid

Chapter 5

The streets weren't the only places drowning in chaos.

Across the world, government buildings buzzed with frantic activity. Officials rushed through hallways carrying stacks of documents while military officers barked orders over ringing phones. Giant monitors filled with maps, satellite feeds, and emergency reports covered the walls.

The first priority was restoring communication.

Teams worked around the clock to bring phone signals and internet services back online. As networks gradually stabilized, an emergency broadcast was pushed through every available television station, radio frequency, and mobile device.

Everyone received the same message.

Stay indoors. Avoid unnecessary travel. Wait for further instructions.

Not long after, the President of the United Nations appeared on screen.

His usually calm expression was heavy with exhaustion.

"Following the emergence of the Universal Trial System—which, from every report we have received, has appeared before every human being on Earth—and its instructions to slay monsters, close rifts, clear dungeons, and walk the path of immortality... we have reached one conclusion."

He paused briefly.

"Earth appears to have become part of some kind of trial. Who is conducting this trial remains unknown."

Behind him, images of glowing rifts hanging above cities flashed across the screen.

"It has also been confirmed that every city in every country now has one rift suspended in the sky. At this moment, every known rift has been classified as Tier Three and shares the same danger level."

Another image appeared—scientists studying strange readings while soldiers guarded the area.

"Our scientists are working tirelessly to understand these phenomena and determine how the rifts may be closed."

His voice turned firmer.

"Until then, remain indoors. Relief supplies will be distributed as soon as possible. Please stay calm."

The broadcast ended.

---

How much time had passed?

An hour?

Two?

Maybe even five.

Owen's eyelashes trembled before slowly opening.

Gray clouds drifted overhead.

He lay there silently, staring into the sky while the cold breeze brushed across his face.

Then everything came rushing back.

The zombies.

The rain.

The bite.

His eyes widened.

He bolted upright so quickly his breathing turned ragged. His hand shot to his back, fingers searching for the wound.

It was still there.

The torn fabric.

The dried blood.

The unmistakable bite mark.

"...What?"

He quickly checked the rest of his body, flexing his fingers before patting his arms, legs, and face.

Nothing felt wrong.

If anything...

He felt stronger.

His muscles no longer ached.

The exhaustion weighing him down earlier had completely disappeared.

Energy surged through his body like he had slept for an entire day.

"I... I really got bitten."

Owen stared blankly ahead.

"So why am I still alive?"

His throat bobbed.

"And why haven't I turned into one of those zombies?"

Taking a slow breath, he spoke.

"System... show me my stats."

---

[Stats]

Strength: 20/50

Agility: 20/50

Stamina: 22/50

Endurance: 40/50

Unallocated Stat Points: 1

---

Owen blinked.

"What?"

His brows slowly knitted together.

"My stats..."

"They all increased."

Before he could think further, the screen rippled.

---

[Due to the host's extraordinary will to survive, the Origin System has successfully overridden the infection and assimilated the viral energy.]

[Due to the host's strong will to survive, the system has successfully overridden the virus within the host's body.]

[Reward Granted:]

[+5 to all basic stats.]

---

"...Seriously?"

Owen let out a laugh filled with disbelief.

"No wonder I feel like I could run a marathon."

He clenched his fist.

The strength flowing through his arm felt far greater than before.

"So that's how I survived."

Bending over, he picked up his crowbar from the wet road.

He stared at the blood-stained metal and sighed.

"If only I had a sword."

He looked ahead.

"Hey, System."

"Don't you have some kind of weapon shop?"

Silence.

Owen stared at the screen for several seconds.

"..."

"Right."

"No question-and-answer feature yet."

He shrugged helplessly.

His soaked factory uniform clung uncomfortably to his body.

The rain had stopped, but the cold fabric still stuck to his skin.

He glanced down the street.

A clothing boutique sat quietly among the abandoned shops.

"Guess I'll change first."

Just as he took a step—

A soft whimper drifted through the silent street.

Owen froze.

That sound...

He had heard it before.

It was the same cry that had distracted him earlier... the one that nearly got him killed.

His grip tightened around the crowbar.

Slowly, he walked toward a parked sedan.

The windows were fogged up.

He leaned closer and peered inside.

A little boy.

No older than eight.

The moment their eyes met, the child scrambled backward, pressing himself against the opposite door as if trying to disappear.

Owen frowned.

"So it really was you."

He crouched beside the window.

"Hey."

The boy flinched.

"Why are you here all alone?"

The child hugged his knees tightly and stared at Owen without saying a word.

Owen sighed.

"Relax."

He raised both hands.

"I'm not going to hurt you."

"I'm not one of those zombies."

"Liar!"

The sudden shout made Owen blink.

The little boy pointed at him with trembling fingers.

"I saw you!"

"You kept smashing those zombies without being scared!"

His small voice cracked.

"And... and they bit you!"

"My mummy got bitten too..."

Tears gathered in his eyes.

"She became a zombie."

Owen's expression softened.

"...Oh."

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

Finally, Owen rubbed the back of his neck.

"I wasn't fighting because I enjoyed it."

His eyes drifted toward the bloodstained street.

"I was fighting because I wanted to stay alive."

Silence lingered.

Then he asked,

"You got the system too, didn't you?"

The boy gave a small nod.

"Yeah."

Even kids received it...

Owen frowned slightly.

How were children supposed to survive something like this?

He looked back at the frightened child.

"Listen."

"The world has changed."

"If you don't fight..."

He pointed toward the empty streets.

"...those things will bite you."

"And once you're bitten..."

His voice lowered.

"You turn."

The little boy's face turned pale.

"I... I don't want that."

"Good."

Owen nodded.

"Then remember this."

"If a zombie comes after you, aim for the head."

He lifted the crowbar.

"That's how you kill one."

The boy looked at him for several seconds before asking quietly,

"Then... why didn't you turn?"

"I saw the zombie bite your back."

Owen glanced away.

A faint smile appeared on his face.

"Yeah..."

He scratched his cheek.

"Let's just say..."

"I got lucky."

The little boy stared at him without saying a word.

His small fingers clutched the edge of his shirt while his wide eyes remained fixed on Owen.

Owen looked away and glanced up at the sky.

The city had fallen strangely quiet.

The screams that had filled the streets earlier were gone. Only the occasional groan of a wandering zombie echoed from somewhere in the distance.

Just how long was I unconscious for?

He let out a slow breath.

"Well, kid... I've got to go."

He turned and took a few steps.

"Wait!"

The desperate shout made him stop.

Owen looked over his shoulder, one brow arching.

The little boy pushed open the car door and climbed out.

"I... I want to come with you."

Owen rubbed the back of his neck.

A kid?

No.

He'd only slow him down.

"Sorry, kid. I've got people waiting for me at home."

The boy hurried after him.

"B-But if I stay here alone... I might get killed."

Owen forced himself not to look back.

"Then wait for a rescue team."

He shrugged.

"Do I look like one?"

The little boy lowered his head before mumbling,

"You're my rescue."

---

Owen stood inside a deserted boutique, staring at rows of neatly folded clothes.

The place was empty.

Not a single employee.

Not a single customer.

Only silence.

He grabbed a black T-shirt and a pair of jeans before heading into the changing room.

"I'll pay the owner back..."

He muttered while changing out of his soaked factory uniform.

"...When all this is over."

As he pulled the shirt over his head, the kid's face flashed across his mind.

You're my rescue.

Owen clicked his tongue.

Leaving him behind was the right decision.

He'd only become another distraction.

Heck...

If not for his Origin System being different, he'd probably be dead already.

So why...

Why did this feel so wrong?

Owen ran a hand through his damp hair and walked outside.

"No."

He shook his head.

"I'm better off alone."

He repeated those words to himself.

Yet somehow...

His feet carried him back toward the street where he'd left the boy.

The parked car came into view.

Then his heart skipped a beat.

"No..."

Owen broke into a sprint.

Three zombies surrounded the little boy.

They had cornered him against a parked car. His tiny body trembled as he desperately swung a wooden stick with both hands.

The stick struck one zombie's shoulder with a dull thud.

It didn't even flinch.

The creatures closed in.

There was no way an eight-year-old could fight three zombies.

A knot tightened in Owen's chest.

If he dies...

It'll be because I left him.

One zombie lunged.

"HEY!"

Owen's voice tore through the street.

"COME OVER HERE!"

All three zombies froze.

Slowly...

They turned toward him.

For the first time since this nightmare began...

Owen wanted them to choose him.

Slowly...

Every bloodshot eye turned toward him.

Good.

If someone was going to die today...

It wasn't going to be that kid.