Aiden glanced at the ground littered with corpses and loot and didn't even bother picking anything up. With his Luck Points, plenty of equipment had dropped, including some silver-grade items. At his current stats, all that junk might as well have been scrap metal. Carrying it around was tiring and filled his inventory for no reason. After a few hours of grinding, a skill scroll finally dropped. 'Basic Scroll: Fireball' 'Description: Crush it to learn the basics of Fireball.' "So-so." Honestly, it wasn't beneficial. Basic skills had few limits, so with enough scrolls, he could learn as many as he liked. Doomsday's skill system emphasized details. Non-lock-on skills like Fireball required proficiency; otherwise, beasts easily dodged them. Early on, low-attribute beasts could still chase players and deal severe damage. With limited base mana, missing a couple of skill hits could be fatal. The same applied to archery and melee. Beasts could even dodge basic attacks. Learning a skill was one thing. Actually landing it was another. Biting off more than one could chew just led to frustration. One Fireball was fine. At worst, it was good for showing off. Killing beasts personally wasn't even necessary. Bang! He clenched the scroll. It shattered, and a new skill appeared on his skill bar. 'Fireball (Proficiency 0)' 'Condense a fireball with base mana, dealing 150% of your energy as magic damage. Cast time: 1 second. Cost: 50 mana. Cooldown: 5 seconds.' Aiden spotted a Gray Hyena in the distance. After a one-second chant, a lazy Fireball drifted down onto its head. '-321' Damage was reduced due to the level gap. The number fell short of expectations, especially compared to Gray's output. "Whatever. Might as well grind proficiency."Bored, he tossed Fireballs from a safe distance. ... Night had fallen—11 p.m. sharp. Aiden had logged in at 10 a.m., and even with his 13-hour daily game limit, he had already reached the cap. "Shame. Still not Level 13." He glanced at the experience bar just past halfway and reluctantly logged out. "Fine. I'll grab a bite and jump back in." Sleep wasn't on his mind. Playing Doomsday counted as rest. Some studies suggested that two hours of gaming equaled an hour of sleep. Most players spent nights in-game, napped during the day, and engaged in other activities afterward. Thirteen hours in-game equaled roughly six and a half hours of rest. Running 24/7 would be feasible. The more he played, the more alert he became. Sleepiness didn't exist. The key detail was that once the clock struck midnight, Doomsday would enter its third day—signaling the public beta launch. The game would descend on each state in waves, rolling over borders. First in line—Grendola. Everyone sixteen and older would be forcibly pulled into this insanely dangerous game. The world was about to flip upside down. An hour passed quickly. Aiden tossed his rig into the trash, lay on his bed, and watched the second hand creep toward the top. "Ding! Welcome, brave one from another world." The world spun. Darkness brightened, and Aiden appeared again in Ashfog Valley. Players who had joined the private beta experienced no differences, except that they no longer needed a device to connect. They respawned where they had last been. New players were sent to different spawn points. "Where am I?" "Am I dreaming?" "A game? I was grilling skewers! Where's my food?" "Holy crap, did I just time-travel? Ha! Knew it. I'm the chosen one!" "Much obliged!" Except for the few already grinding in-game, ninety-nine percent of players were lost entirely. One second, they were in familiar surroundings; the next, they were dumped into a strange environment, surrounded by recognizable faces. No normal person could stay calm. Late-night hours meant many hadn't even gone to sleep yet.