re-apocalypse-game-05122222
chapter-84

A memory from his previous life surged through Alan's mind, momentarily transporting him to a time that felt both familiar and distant.

Disqualified from joining the military due to obvious reasons, young Alan roamed aimlessly during those initial days, hopeful for a group that would take in a player like him.

His profession from that time often became the butt of jokes.

"A school teacher? How exactly do you plan to combat the Nazis with that?" The laughter would grow louder as another would chime in,

"Watch him teach them to death, begging for an end out of sheer boredom!" Their voices, dripping with sarcasm, echoed in Alan's ears, a grim reminder of the derision he once faced.

Food had been scarce, and Alan spent a major chunk of that week scavenging for anything edible. Each morsel was a victory, each meal a luxury. It was during one such foraging expedition that fate led him to cross paths with a small hunting party of the Blood Patriots.

Their gaunt faces and sunken eyes were evidence of the desperation and hunger that gnawed at them from within. Many in the group were plagued with level 2 and 3 penalties, a testament to their continued hardships.

Word had spread about a forest, a realm teeming with beasts and promise of food. They draw in every able-bodied individual. Alan was one of those chosen to join the expedition into the deep forest.

From the thirty players that had ventured in, only ten, battered and bruised, staggered out alive. Alan was among those ten, carrying with him scars and stories that would shape the man he was now.