Isekai Murim In The Apocalypse

The sound of ragged breathing echoed through the winding alleys of District 8 as a young boy sprinted through the streets, his pulse pounding in his ears. His lungs burned, and his legs threatened to give out, but stopping wasn't an option—not now, not ever.

Footsteps pounded behind him, closing in with relentless speed.

'Come on... left at the dumpster, right at the broken streetlight, straight through the gap between the buildings.' Aziel's mind raced, each escape route etched in his memory from years of survival. He had memorized every twist and turn of the district; it was the only way to stay ahead.

But his body was failing him.

Desperation forced him to glance over his shoulder, just for a second. That moment cost him everything.

His foot caught on an unseen obstruction, and he tumbled forward, hitting the pavement hard. The impact jolted pain through his ribs, knocking the air from his lungs. He scrambled to rise, but it was too late.

Bam!

A boot crashed into his stomach, forcing a strangled gasp from his lips. Pain flared through his ribs as another blow followed, then another, each one a brutal punctuation of his failure.

"So? What were you doing poking around our turf, kid?"

A low, gravelly voice cut through the haze of pain. Aziel barely lifted his head, his body curled on the cold concrete. A man crouched beside him, his shadow long and oppressive in the dim alleyway glow. He was built like a brawler, muscles thick beneath his grimy clothes. A jagged scar ran the length of his right eye, adding to his menacing presence.

Gang scars. Territory markings. Aziel recognized the type.

He said nothing, turning his face away in silent defiance.

The leader exhaled sharply, irritated. "Playing tough, huh?" His hand shot out, seizing Aziel by the hair and yanking his head up. The cold press of metal met his forehead—a gun, heavy and loaded.

"You see, I really don't like repeating myself," the man murmured. "Don't make me ask again."

A bead of sweat trickled down Aziel's temple. His eyes flicked to the gun, then back to the man's hardened expression.

"…Food," he admitted hoarsely. "I was just looking for food."

The gang leader studied him for a moment, then scoffed and let go, allowing Aziel to crumple to the ground.

"So, another street rat." He rolled his shoulders. "Not even worth a bullet." He raised the gun, gesturing dismissively. "Get lost. Next time I catch you, you're dead."

Aziel didn't flinch, only nodding stiffly. Satisfied, the gang leader turned and strode away, his boots scuffing against the cracked pavement.

As soon as they disappeared, Aziel stuck out his tongue, flipping them off. A quiet, amused chuckle escaped him.

"'I really don't like repeating myself,'" he muttered, mimicking the gang leader's voice with a smirk.

Reaching into a hidden pocket in his worn-out jacket, he pulled out several small, wrapped packages.

"Idiots. They don't even know how to search someone properly."

After ensuring everything was intact, he pushed himself upright with a grimace. His body ached, but pain was nothing new.

His gaze drifted skyward. The stars were dim against the polluted night, but one thing stood out—the massive purple scar across the heavens. The Labyrinth Rift.

He barely remembered the day it appeared. He'd been too young—just two years old.

But he remembered the stories—his parents' voices recounting a time before the world changed. Those memories felt like echoes of another life, fading with each passing year.

He shook his head. No point dwelling on the past. His parents weren't here to tell those stories anymore.

"What a pain…" he muttered, limping forward into the silence of District 8.

A distant scream cut through the night. Just another typical evening in the outer districts.

Aziel stopped at a broken storefront, leaning against its shattered frame as he glared at the inner districts beyond. Their towering spires gleamed so brightly they hurt his eyes—a mockery of power, their wealth enough to sustain District 8 for a month.

A blur of motion caught his attention. A group of hunters sped past him, barely sparing a glance in his direction. They were armed, outfitted, and in a hurry.

'Must be nice,' he thought bitterly. 'To have awakened abilities. To have options.'

Out here, you either stole or starved. And Aziel had no plans of starving.

"Damn it… this is gonna swell." He caught his reflection in a shattered car window, wincing at the bruises forming. "Anais is gonna flip."

Shaking off his irritation, he picked up his pace, his feet crunching against glass as he moved through the familiar ruins of the district.

Then he stopped.

Fifty paces ahead, a shadow loomed at the alley's mouth. His stomach dropped.

A Labyrinth Beast.

Its gray flesh rippled with raw muscle, its massive frame shifting as it prowled on all fours. A crimson eye rolled wildly in its skull, scanning, searching. An arrow jutted from its shoulder—someone had tried to take it down and failed.

Aziel's breath hitched. He knew what these creatures could do.

Only an awakened hunter or heavy artillery could stand a chance. He had neither.

'A Labyrinth Beast, now of all times?'

Slowly, carefully, he stepped back—

Crunch.

The sound of shattering glass beneath his foot sealed his fate.

The beast's head snapped toward him.

For a moment, everything was still.

Then it lunged.

Aziel bolted, adrenaline surging as he wove through the alleys. His injuries screamed, but terror drowned out the pain. Behind him, the creature gave chase, its claws tearing into concrete as it closed the distance with terrifying speed.

'Dammit, dammit, dammit!'

He turned left, then right, desperately trying to shake it. But it was too fast. Too strong.

Then he saw it—a decayed apartment complex ahead, its structure weakened from years of monster attacks and neglect.

A gamble. But his only chance.

"It's all or nothing!" Aziel gritted his teeth and dove into the entrance.

The beast barreled in after him, heedless of the trembling metal and groaning foundations. Aziel sprinted through the halls, leading it deeper inside, each thunderous step shaking the brittle framework of the building.

'Just a little more…'

He skidded into a fragile section of the floor, turning to face the approaching threat. The creature slowed, muscles coiling as it prepared to pounce.

"You wanna know what your problem is…?" Aziel panted, stepping back. The floor groaned beneath them. "You're all muscle and no brain… dumbass."

With a snarl, the beast lunged.

Aziel rolled aside as the floor gave way beneath it.

For a heartbeat, silence.

Then the building shuddered, a deafening collapse swallowing the creature's furious roar.

Aziel sprinted for the exit, debris crashing behind him.

"Hah! Serves you right, you dumb—"

The ground vanished beneath his feet.

His victory cry turned into a startled shout as he plummeted into darkness, swallowed by the ruins beneath the building.