The pungent scent of roasted cafeteria meat and stale bread wafted through the double swinging doors of the central dining hall.
"Sixty heartbeats clustered inside the main dining area," the First Player murmured, pausing at the threshold.
"Let's see what kind of society they formed in a few short hours."
He pushed through the barricaded entrance, stepping over overturned plastic trays and scattered food littering the linoleum floor.
Inside the vast hall, dozens of terrified teenagers huddled beneath dining tables, clutching chair legs and sharpened brooms.
At the far end of the room, on an elevated stage, sat the student council president behind a large conference table.
Four large football players stood on either side of him, brandishing baseball bats and solid iron ladles like royal bodyguards.
"Halt right there!" one of the athletic enforcers barked, raising his bat in an aggressive posture.
"State your name and business before the council!"
"Step aside before I take that bat and shove it down your throat," the dark-haired youth replied coldly.
"Is that... the quiet kid from Class 3-B?" a student whispered from beneath a table in the front row.
"Look at his jacket... it is covered in dark monster blood!"
"He has a weapon on his hip!" another student gasped, pointing a shaking finger at the polymer holster.
The student council president leaned forward in his swivel chair, adjusting his silk tie with an air of unearned superiority.
"Well, well, the school delinquent actually survived the earthquake," the council leader announced in a booming, theatrical voice.
"You are trespassing on student council emergency jurisdiction, delinquent."
"You built yourself a cute little kingdom while people are getting eaten in the hallways," the youth said, walking forward.
"Show some respect to the president!" the largest enforcer snapped, stepping directly into his path.
"Don't take another step forward!"
"Under Emergency Directive Four," the council president declared loudly, standing up from his desk, "all weapons and rations belong to the council."
"Is that so?"
"You will surrender that firearm and your spear to my enforcers immediately," the president ordered, pointing imperiously at his guards.
"We will distribute the ammunition according to council defense priorities."
"And who gave you the authority to seize private property?"
"I am the elected student council president," the arrogant boy replied with a smirk, spreading his arms wide.
"The principal is dead, which makes me the highest civic authority in this entire facility."
"Your school council died the second dimensional monsters invaded this city," the First Player answered with a mocking laugh.
"Do you really think a school election matters during an apocalypse?"
"Laws remain in effect as long as civilized people are present," the president insisted, tapping his desk.
"You are nothing more than a frightened child hiding behind football players," the First Player stated bluntly.
"Listen to this arrogant clown!" the lead enforcer shouted, raising his baseball bat with both hands to strike.
"Hand over the gun or I will crack your skull wide open!"
"Try it, musclehead," the youth taunted, his eyes narrowing with lethal precision.
The enforcer swung the solid wooden bat in a fierce downward diagonal arc aimed straight at his temple.
The First Player did not even bother drawing his firearm, utilizing his fifteen points of Agility to slip effortlessly beneath the swing.
He grabbed the enforcer's wrist with sixteen points of Strength, twisting the joint with a sickening, audible crunch.
"Aaargh—!" the jock shrieked in agony, dropping the bat as his radius bone fractured under the crushing grip.
Without pausing, the First Player pivoted his hips, executing a violent shoulder throw that launched the two-hundred-pound athlete through the air.
The enforcer crashed violently through an empty salad bar, shattering the acrylic sneeze guards in an explosion of plastic shards.
"Brad!" the council president gasped, stumbling backward against his chair in absolute shock.
"He just threw Brad across the room with one arm!" a girl shrieked from the back tables.
"How is anyone that fast?" another boy yelled in sheer disbelief.
"Stay back... all of you get in front of me!" the president wailed, desperately pulling his remaining three guards forward.
"Protect your leader right now!"
The remaining three enforcers froze in terror, looking at their groaning packmate amidst the shattered salad bar before backing away.
"Are you cowards going to protect me or not?" the president screamed, his voice cracking with rage.
"Nobody is going to protect you," the First Player said, stepping onto the raised stage with deliberate strides.
He unslung the Corrosive Acid Spear from his shoulder, spinning the polished rod before driving the tip downward.
The spearhead pierced straight through the center of the conference desk with a single fluid thrust.
A violent hissing sound erupted as the bubbling green acid paste made contact, dissolving the thick oak surface into sizzling foam.
The conference table split in half with a resounding crack, the melted halves collapsing onto the floorboards in smoking ruin.
"My desk!" the president cried out, clutching his head in horror as the corrosive fumes singed his eyebrows.
"The next time you try to confiscate my gear, that spear goes through your chest," the youth warned in a chilling whisper.
"You are an insane barbarian!" the boy stammered, trembling uncontrollably behind his chair.
"Look at what you have done to this hall!"
"Look at what you did to these people," the youth replied, pointing his spear at the starving underclassmen below.
"You hoarded all the food in the pantry while forcing terrified kids to guard vents with broom handles."
"Rations must be managed responsibly!" the boy protested, his voice trembling with desperation.
"You gave yourself double portions while that girl in the corner hasn't eaten since morning," the First Player countered coldly.
"Is that true?" a freshman boy called out from the second row of tables.
"Did you take our lunch boxes for yourselves?"
"The council needs energy to maintain leadership!" the president shouted back defensively.
"Leadership means leading from the front, not hiding in the back while others starve," the First Player replied with disgust.
The crowded cafeteria fell into stunned silence, dozens of students nodding in quiet agreement with his brutal assessment.
"Listen to me, all of you!" the youth shouted, his voice ringing across the vast dining hall like a clarion call.
"Are you going to let this coward starve you to death in a locked room?"
"What choice do we have?" a scrawny boy asked from the third row of tables. "There are monsters outside!"
"You fight back or you die waiting for rescue that will never arrive," the First Player answered directly.
"The police are firing at an impenetrable barrier outside the front gates, and the army cannot breach this zone."
"Is that true?" an older girl asked, her eyes widening in horror. "Nobody is coming to save us?"
"Nobody is saving you except yourselves," he replied, looking over the sea of anxious faces.
"If you want to survive, you need to arm yourselves and start hunting monster cores."
"What is a monster core?" a student asked, stepping out from beneath an overturned table.
"Monster cores are crystals that drop from slain beasts," the First Player explained, holding up a glowing Rank F core.
"They contain pure dimensional mana that can be traded for weapons, skills, and territory upgrades."
"How do we get strong like you?" another student asked, looking at the melted table.
"You earn experience points by slaying beasts and allocating your attribute points wisely," the youth explained clearly.
"Can we trade with you?" a boy with grease-stained overalls asked, stepping forward from the maintenance crew table.
"I have thick leather welding gloves and four high-powered tactical flashlights from the shop class."
"I will trade with anyone who brings useful utility gear," the First Player agreed, nodding at the young mechanic.
"Let's see what you have in those toolboxes."
The mechanic brought forward a pair of sturdy leather welding gauntlets and four durable aluminum flashlights with spare lithium batteries.
The First Player handed the boy two dried energy bars from his pocket and a bottle of purified water in exchange.
[ Item Acquired: Reinforced Welding Gauntlets (Rank F) | Acid and Slash Resistance +10 ]
[ Item Acquired: High-Intensity Tactical Flashlight x4 ]
"Thank you, man!" the mechanic whispered in gratitude, sharing the energy bar with his younger sister.
"If you need any tools repaired, just ask for Toby."
"I will remember that, Toby," the youth replied, slipping the sturdy leather gloves over his hands.
Fifteen other students cautiously approached the stage, asking for advice on weapon crafting and beast weak points.
"Aim for the soft seam beneath the lower jaw or the spinal cord behind the skull," the First Player instructed them patiently.
"Never fight them in open spaces... force them into narrow choke points where their numbers mean nothing."
"What kind of weapons should we make?" a girl asked, holding a pair of kitchen shears.
"Tape those shears to a mop handle to create a makeshift pike," he advised, demonstrating the thrusting motion.
"That gives you reach and keeps monster claws away from your chest."
"What about kitchen knives?" another boy asked, holding a serrated bread knife.
"Fasten it tightly to a broom stick with electrical tape," the youth instructed, nodding in approval.
"A three-foot reach is the difference between life and death against charging hounds."
"Can we use boiling water from the kitchen?" a student asked from the cooking counter.
"Boiling water and hot cooking oil make fantastic area-denial weapons against beast packs," the youth answered with a nod.
"Pour it directly into narrow entryways to break their charging momentum."
"We have two large stockpots bubbling on the gas stoves right now!" a cafeteria worker called out from the service line.
"Keep those burners on high and prepare the ladle buckets," the First Player ordered, taking charge of the defensive layout.
"We will pour boiling broth over any beast that attempts to force its way through the kitchen doorway!"
"Thank you for telling us the truth," an underclassman girl said, clutching a sharpened steel ruler.
"We were so scared of the president's threats."
"He is nothing without his bodyguards," the First Player said, casting a disdainful glance at the disgraced leader.
"Work together and form three-person teams to watch each other's backs."
The deposed president glared at him with venomous hatred from the corner of the stage, his fists clenched as his authority crumbled to dust.
"You will regret this, delinquent," the boy muttered under his breath. "Just wait until the military arrives."
"Keep dreaming in your corner, little prince," the youth scoffed, turning his back on the deposed leader.
"The military is never coming through that dimensional barrier."
Suddenly, a loud screech of tearing sheet metal echoed from the high ventilation shafts along the northern wall.
The entire ceiling shuddered violently as several metal vent covers were ripped from their mountings simultaneously.
"They are in the ceiling!" a student shrieked in sheer terror, dropping his tray.
"The monsters found the cafeteria!"
Dozens of feral snarling sounds reverberated through the ductwork, accompanied by the solid thump of multiple large predators landing on the acoustic tiles.
"Get under the reinforced tables right now!" the First Player bellowed, drawing his Corrosive Acid Spear with both hands.
"Form a defensive perimeter and don't panic!"
"They are breaking through the loading dock too!" the former president wailed, scrambling frantically toward the walk-in freezer door.
"Lock the freezer! Protect the food supply!"
The former president and his three remaining cronies dashed into the walk-in pantry, slamming the thick freezer door and locking it from the inside.
"They locked us out!" a terrified girl cried, pounding against the insulated freezer door.
"Those cowards abandoned us to die!"
The cafeteria double doors strained under immense external pressure as a coordinated pack assault slammed into the perimeter.
"Forget about the cowards in the freezer!" the First Player shouted, his voice cutting through the panic like thunder.
"Focus on the choke points and hold your makeshift spears forward!"
"Don't back down now!" Toby yelled, brandishing a solid wrench with both hands.
"Stand with the First Player and fight!"
"This isn't a random hunting pack," the First Player muttered, noticing the synchronized breach points across the room.
"Someone is directing these beasts from the shadows."
[ System Alert: Coordinated Horde Assault Initiated | Hostile Signatures: 10 Adult Gobdogs ]
"Time to earn some serious experience points," the dark-haired youth muttered, stepping directly into the center of the dining hall.
"Anyone who wants to live, get behind my spear!"