Jake squeezed the trigger just as another ex-human mutant lurched at him. The load of buckshot sent the creature flying to the other end of the corridor. One of the doors lining the wall on his right swung open, and yet another ex-human walker showed up. Jake wheeled to face it, pointing his weapon at the new threat. As the walker jumped toward him, Jake blew a hole out of its chest, sending the mutant’s body flying back into the room it’d just emerged from. The devastating power of his shotgun at close range proved to be highly effective in dispatching the mutants.
From the corner of his eye, he spotted a flicker of movement to his left. He spun to face that way and saw an ex-human leaper crawl out of an air vent. These mutants were way more agile and faster than the walkers were. Just as Jake lined up his iron sights on the new enemy, it leaped toward him. He hastily squeezed the trigger, hitting the monster in midair and sending it flying back. Its body crashed into the wall and crumpled to the floor in a heap of twisted and broken limbs.
Jake continued to make his way through the corridors and rooms of the hospital, dealing with ex-human mutants as they showed up. There were quite a lot of mutants in the hospital. They emerged from various rooms, attracted to the sounds of the gunfire. So far, they hadn’t caused him too much trouble, though. He was quickly getting quite proficient at fighting ex-humans.
At some point, when he was jumped by a few obnoxious creatures at once, he had to switch to the submachine gun because he’d just fired the last shell and didn’t have time to reload his shotgun. He let loose a spray of bullets, hitting the approaching mutants in various parts of their bodies. However, they kept advancing at him, unfazed. That gun wasn’t all that effective against them, that was for damn sure. Grinding his teeth, he aimed for the head of the nearest mutant and fired a short burst of bullets. While some of them missed their target, the others struck true, drilling into the creature’s skull. Even before the mutant dropped to the floor, Jake was already firing at the other mutant in line, dealing with it before it could reach him.
When he completely ran out of ammo for the submachine gun, he decided to discard the weapon altogether. Dropping the depleted gun to the floor, he unslung his trusty semiautomatic shotgun and reloaded it. He continued his exploration of the hospital, taking care of every mutant he met on his way. During moments of respite from combat, he scanned the dead bodies with his PDA for valuable loot. In this world governed by video game mechanics, some of the deceased mutants yielded ammunition hidden in the pockets of their dirty, tattered clothing. Had it not been the case, Jake would have run out of ammo a long time ago.
After successfully eliminating every last mutant infesting the hospital, Jake finally had the opportunity to thoroughly search the building for valuable loot. During his intense confrontation with the mutants, there had been little time to focus on scavenging for supplies. Over the next half hour, he methodically retraced his steps, inspecting each room for any useful items. Within the cabinets and drawers scattered throughout the hospital, he found healing autoinjectors, which he carefully stored in his rucksack for future use in this perilous world.
In the final room of the hospital, he found something interesting. On a dusty table next to one wall, illuminated by a shaft of dim light filtering through a crack in the curtains, lay what looked like an old roll of paper. Its edges were frayed and curling slightly, and the surface was weathered and yellowed. Jake looked at the roll of paper for a second, but he dismissed it as a useless piece of trash. What lay beside the paper roll, resting on the worn wooden surface, looked way more captivating. It was a round piece of glass softly glistening in the dim light. It was about an inch around or maybe a little bit bigger than that. Within its transparent depths, a mysterious bluish glow danced and pulsed, casting ethereal patterns across the tabletop.
“Wow,” Jake muttered as he stepped closer to the table for a better look. Whatever the round piece of glass was, it was beautiful. It seemed strange that such a wonderful item could exist in this devastated dead world.
He took out his PDA and scanned the item. MANA BEAD: 100 MP (COMMON). Mana, huh? Jake then remembered something. Holding the device in one hand, he tapped on the very first tab, which was called Statistics, and the screen with his general stats appeared. It contained some basic information like his name, level, XP, and whatnot. There was another line in there. Mana: 0. The term “Mana” triggered a recollection from his past—memories of fantasy video games he played during his teenage years flooded back to him. In those games, mana was depicted as a form of magical energy essential for casting spells, typically replenishing itself over time. Contrary to his gaming experience, mana in this unfamiliar world appeared to function very differently.
Jake scanned the mana bead one more time to make sure he didn’t overlook any critical details about the enigmatic item. He then placed the device on the table and picked up the mana bead. He brought it closer to his eyes, peering into its depths. He could see some kind of bluish mist with dancing tendrils swirling about inside the sphere. If he wasn’t mistaken, the beautiful bluish mist inside the bead was mana, and he needed to somehow extract that magical energy. But how to do it? His PDA hadn’t provided him with the answer when he scanned the magical item. Maybe he needed to break the bead? He decided to give it a try.
He clenched it in his fist only to find it was as hard as a rock. He then struck it forcefully against the wall, but it didn’t damage the mana bead at all. He repeated the process a few more times, achieving the same zero result. At some point, Jake resorted to more drastic measures, deciding to use his shotgun in a desperate bid to crack the resistant object. He put the mana bead on the floor in one of the corners of the room and shot it with his shotgun. The resounding blast from his powerful weapon hit the mana bead, propelling it to the ceiling before it rebounded to the opposite wall. To his astonishment, upon retrieving the mana bead and inspecting it closely, Jake discovered that not a single scratch marred its transparent surface. The blast from the shotgun had failed to make even the slightest dent on the enigmatic item.
What the heck? Is this thing actually unbreakable?
It didn’t seem likely. There should be a way to extract the mana from the bead—he was sure of that.
Think, Jake, think. If you were playing an actual video game, what would you do?
The answer was simple. He would simply press a button to extract the magical energy from the mana bead. In this world, however, the only way to glean information about an item was by scanning it with his PDA. He’d already scanned the mana bead, but the device hadn’t provided any guidance on utilizing the magical item.
For a few seconds, Jake was gazing into the bead, watching the mesmerizing dance of the bluish mist within. Then, in a sudden burst of inspiration, he simply commanded the mana to be extracted from the bead, and—voilà!—to his great surprise, this basic mental command worked like a charm. The magical energy flowed out of the bead as if it were intangible, drifting through the air toward his hand before being absorbed into his skin. The item he held in his hand was just an empty glass bauble now. To make sure he couldn’t use it anymore, Jake returned to the table and picked up his PDA. On the screen was a notification. YOU HAVE JUST RECEIVED 100 MANA POINTS. He acknowledged the message with a tap, then scanned the empty mana bead once more. As he’d expected, the device told him that the mana bead was just a useless glass trinket now. He dropped it to the floor, and it shattered into hundreds of tiny pieces.
So now you can break so easily, huh, he thought.
His attention shifted to the aged parchment in front of him. Now aware of the existence of mana in this world, he couldn’t shake the feeling that the ancient-looking scroll held more significance than he had initially believed. With a sense of anticipation, he used his PDA to scan the parchment. The screen displayed: MAGICAL SCROLL: PUSH (COMMON) (COST: 100 MANA POINTS). He carefully returned the PDA to his jacket pocket and picked up the ancient scroll, unrolling it to reveal unfamiliar symbols that shimmered with a mysterious golden luminescence. Then he remembered how he’d used the mana bead and did the same, commanding the scroll to impart its knowledge to him. There was a brief flash of light that blinded him for a second. When his vision cleared, he found the text had vanished. Like the mana bead before it, the scroll now held no value for him, so he let it fall from his grasp.
He took out his PDA. Sure enough, there was another message displayed across the screen. YOU HAVE ACQUIRED A PUSH SPELL (COMMON) (X1). He acknowledged the message with a tap. It should keep a record of how many spells I currently have. He opened the very first tab and there it was—at the very end of his stats was a line of text saying PUSH SPELL (COMMON) (X1) (COST: 100 MANA POINTS). Does it mean I can only use it once? It certainly seemed that way. He glanced at another line in his stats. MANA: 100. The mana bead had provided him with precisely enough magical energy to cast the spell.
One use or not, he wanted to use the spell right away simply to learn how magic worked in this world. Pocketing his device, he scanned the room before deciding on a decrepit chair as his target. He crossed the room to where the chair was and dragged it to the center of the room. He then took a few steps back and turned to face the chair.
As it turned out, using magic was simple. He didn’t know if he had to extend a hand toward his target or not, but he did it anyway. He then gave a mental command to use his Push spell on the chair. Immediately after that, he felt a surge of energy burst from within him, propelling forward with a swift whoosh. The invisible force collided with the chair, launching it forcefully backward across the room until it crashed into the wall, shattering into multiple wooden fragments upon impact.
“That’s awesome,” Jake exclaimed.
He took out his PDA again. First of all, he checked the battle log.
You have cast a Push spell for 100 mana points.
He then switched to the very first tab—Statistics. His mana had depleted back to zero, and the Push spell had disappeared as well. So he was back to square one—he had no mana and no spells again. Still, he had gleaned a new piece of useful information about this world. Spells learned from scrolls could be used only one time. As for mana, it could be extracted from mana beads—and maybe some other similar items. Whether there was another way to replenish his mana was unknown to him yet.
Anyway, he now knew for sure magic existed in this game-like world, and this discovery excited him a great deal. He was surely going to be on the lookout for more magical scrolls and mana consumables from now on. He didn’t know where he could find them, though. Perhaps, they just spawned in random places.
After that, Jake exited the hospital, eager to uncover the other secrets hidden in this new world, waiting to be revealed.