The rumor reached Fort Kurogane within twenty-four hours.
Reports filtered through the gate—hunters carrying sealed bread, milk that hadn't spoiled, and bottled water so clean it sparkled. They all said the same thing:
A store. A glowing sign. A woman with crimson eyes who trades food for metal and cores.
By the next morning, a military convoy rolled out—three armored trucks, twelve soldiers, and one commander who didn't believe in ghosts.
---
The hum of engines reached Sora before the dust did. He stood in front of the counter, wearing a gray pleated skirt and a fitted black blouse with a narrow choker at his throat, his long hair brushed to one side. The neon sign above him pulsed softly against the gray sky.
> [Incoming group detected: armed convoy, twelve signatures.]
[Probability of hostile intent: 38%.]
Sora smiled faintly. "A step up from bandits, at least."
He smoothed his skirt and leaned against the counter, waiting.
Moments later, the trucks stopped just outside. Soldiers poured out first, rifles ready but not raised. Then a man stepped down from the lead vehicle.
Tall. Composed. Dark hair streaked faintly with silver at the temples. His eyes—sharp gray with a hint of blue—scanned the storefront like he was mapping it. He wore a reinforced coat and no visible insignia, but the way everyone moved around him said commander.
Sora's system whispered confirmation.
> [Identified: Commander Ren Ichihara, Fort Kurogane Defense Division.]
Ren paused at the threshold, gaze flicking to the glowing sign:
The Nexus Exchange.
Then to Sora.
For a moment, his mask of command cracked—not in surprise, but something quieter. Interest.
"You're the one running this… place?"
Sora inclined his head. "Welcome to the Nexus Exchange, Commander. Please keep all weapons holstered inside. We run on points, not threats."
That earned a faint quirk of his mouth—almost a smile. "Understood."
He stepped in, boots echoing on the spotless floor. Behind him, his soldiers fanned out, scanning every surface. The smell of warm bread drifted through the air.
One soldier whispered, "It's real. All of it."
Ren silenced him with a look, then turned back to Sora. "I've heard stories. Bread, water, even milk. All safe to eat. Where are you getting your supplies?"
"Trade secret," Sora said simply.
Ren's gaze lingered on him—at the sharp lines softened by long lashes, the red eyes reflecting light like glass. He was beautiful in a way that didn't quite make sense in the ruins. Fragile-looking, but composed.
"…You're not afraid of us," Ren said at last.
Sora tilted his head. "Should I be?"
That earned another faint smile. "Depends on what you're hiding."
> [Host, he's testing your boundaries.]
(And I'm enjoying it,) Sora replied silently.
---
Ren moved toward the shelves, picking up a package of bread. The plastic crinkled beneath his gloved fingers.
"This was sealed before the fall," he murmured. "There's no way this should exist."
"And yet," Sora said, "you're holding it."
A few of his soldiers started whispering—about the milk, the noodles, the warning signs. One pointed at the notice above the register.
> ⚠ THEFT OR VIOLENCE WILL TRIGGER SYSTEM ENFORCEMENT.
NO EXCEPTIONS.
"What kind of enforcement?" Ren asked.
"Instant," Sora replied, smiling faintly. "And permanent."
Ren studied him another moment, then looked around the spotless store again. "You're not from here, are you?"
Sora's eyes glimmered faintly. "I don't really belong anywhere."
That made him pause—but before he could press further, one of his men interrupted. "Commander, scanners picked up an energy field around the building. Same wavelength as the northern defense grid."
Ren's expression didn't change, but his tone cooled slightly. "Interesting. This place is protected."
> [Non-detection field confirmed. Any attempt at forced entry will activate secondary defenses.]
Sora smiled. "You could say it's self-sufficient."
Ren exhaled, thoughtful. Then he reached into his pocket and placed something on the counter: a gleaming Level 2 crystal core, pulsing softly with blue light.
"I want to register," he said.
> [Core Level 2 – Value: 250 points.]
[Account created: Commander Ren Ichihara.]
Sora handed him a thin card—the same sleek design as the others, but when Ren touched it, the surface flickered with a faint blue emblem of his name.
"Welcome, Commander," Sora said softly. "You now have 250 points."
Ren glanced at the shelves. "I'll take one of each."
As the scanner processed the purchases, the system chimed.
> [Customer total: 25. Milestone achieved.]
[Tier 2 Stock Expansion unlocked.]
---
The shelves shimmered. The air filled with light as new displays unfolded—sleek rows of self-heating rice boxes, sealed tea packets, canned vegetables, nutrient bars, and flavored beverages in neat pastel cans.
The soldiers gasped audibly. Even Ren looked faintly stunned.
Sora exhaled slowly, feigning boredom. "Well, that's new."
> [Congratulations, Host. Stock expansion complete.]
Ren set his rifle against the counter, scanning the new shelves. "You're either a miracle," he said quietly, "or the most dangerous thing left in this world."
Sora met his gaze evenly. "Maybe both."
For a long moment, the commander didn't move. Then, with a hint of humor in his voice, he said, "If you ever decide to relocate, Fort Kurogane would… accommodate you."
Sora smiled, a flicker of amusement lighting his crimson eyes. "Tempting. But I like my independence."
Ren nodded once, slipping his new supplies into a field bag. "Then I'll settle for this much—for now. We'll send trade envoys soon."
"I'll be here," Sora said, voice low and almost musical.
As the commander turned to leave, he glanced back once more. "You really do look like a ghost when the light hits you."
Sora tilted his head, the faintest smile on his lips. "Then I suppose you should be careful not to haunt me, Commander."
Ren actually laughed—a rare, quiet sound—and left with his soldiers.
---
The street fell silent again. The engines faded.
Sora stood alone in the doorway, the golden dusk spilling through the glass.
> [Host, that man is unusually calm around you.]
"Maybe he's just polite."
[Unlikely. He seems… interested.]
Sora's lips curved. "Good. It's been a while since someone interesting came along."
He turned, brushing a hand over the shelf of new goods—the hum of machines, the gleam of sealed cans, the faint scent of tea leaves. Civilization, reawakening one product at a time.
"Let the world wonder," he whispered.
Outside, the neon sign pulsed brighter.
THE NEXUS EXCHANGE — Open for Business.
Three days had passed since Commander Ren Ichihara's visit.
The Nexus Exchange had settled into a quiet rhythm — too quiet, almost.
Each morning, the pale sun clawed its way over the fractured skyline, painting the ruins in shades of copper and gray. The air smelled faintly of rust and dust. Within that stillness, the soft hum of the shop's filtration system and the faint chime of the holographic interface were the only sounds that spoke of life.
Sora leaned against the counter, dressed in a soft ivory blouse and a black high-waisted skirt. The fabric shimmered faintly under the filtered light. His long crimson eyes glowed in reflection from the front glass as he absentmindedly stirred a steaming cup of tea — one of the new stock items. His hair, chest-length and dark as ink, framed his pale face like a shadow.
He looked like something out of a dream — or a memory the world wasn't supposed to have anymore.
> [Host, your shop's regional energy signature has been detected by three factions.]
[Fort Kurogane: Trade alignment – positive.]
[Shinten Settlement: Neutral curiosity.]
[The Iron Dogs: Hostile interest.]
(Hostile, hm?) Sora mused, sipping. "Let them come. Maybe they'll learn some manners."
> [Or provide test subjects.]
He smirked faintly. "You're starting to sound like me, A001."
Outside, the wind picked up. Somewhere in the distance, a low moan rolled through the streets — the sound of the dead stirring.
---
Meanwhile, beyond the city's southern edge, a group of six survivors sprinted down a cracked highway, gasping for breath. Behind them, the shrieks of zombies echoed like a rising tide.
"Keep moving!" shouted a woman with cropped copper hair, swinging her machete to knock away a grasping hand. "Don't you stop, Kai!"
"I'm—trying!" the younger man panted, clutching a metal satchel to his chest.
Their boots pounded against the pavement, scattering gravel. One of them tripped, nearly falling before another grabbed her arm — a tall, wiry man with storm-gray eyes.
"We're not going to make it to the outpost," he said grimly. "Too many!"
Then, through the haze, he saw it.
A flickering glow up ahead — blue, steady, and impossibly clean.
"The hell…?" he breathed.
They stumbled closer. Through the broken mist, the neon letters shone clearly against the ruins:
THE NEXUS EXCHANGE
The front doors gleamed, untouched by dirt or decay. It didn't belong in this world.
---
Inside, Sora looked up from his tea.
> [Host, incoming survivors. Six individuals. Status: critical pursuit.]
"Then let's be polite," he murmured. He set down the cup and stepped from behind the counter. His skirt swayed softly around his knees as he moved, calm and deliberate, the sound of his heels clicking against the tile.
When the door slid open automatically, the survivors practically fell inside. The copper-haired woman whirled around, raising her machete toward the street—
And froze.
The moment she crossed the threshold, the moaning outside stopped. Every zombie in the street halted mid-step, as though hitting an invisible wall. Then, one by one, they turned and wandered away.
"What… the hell?" one of the men whispered.
Sora smiled faintly, brushing a strand of hair behind his ear. "Welcome. You're safe now. Please don't bleed on the floor; I just cleaned it."
They all stared at him — or rather, at her, as they assumed.
A slender figure with long dark hair, red eyes, and clothes that looked hand-tailored from another age. Too clean, too serene, too… beautiful.
"Are you—an angel?" the younger man, Kai, whispered.
Sora blinked. "Not quite. Tea?"
---
Minutes later, the group was gathered inside, still catching their breath. One of them, the gray-eyed man, looked around in disbelief. "It's all real," he muttered. "Bread. Bottled water. Even rice."
Sora leaned against the counter, hands folded neatly. "We trade in points," he said simply. "Cores, metal, jewelry—anything with residual energy or rarity value. The conversion rates are displayed on the screen."
He gestured, and a translucent blue panel appeared midair.
> Conversion Rates:
Level 1 Core – 100 Points
Level 2 Core – 500 Points
Level 3 Core – 1,000 Points
…
Jewelry / Precious Metal: Value assessed by weight and purity.
Kai dug into his satchel, pulling out a handful of old rings and a dull pendant. "Would this—?"
The holographic scanner pulsed.
> [Material Value: 320 Points.]
Sora nodded. "Acceptable."
Kai's mouth dropped open as a sleek card slid from the counter slot, engraved with his name.
"Register," Sora said gently. "Then you can buy."
The copper-haired woman approached next, still wary. She was fierce and sun-browned, her green eyes sharp. "Name's Rin Tsurugi," she said. "We don't mean trouble. You just saved our skins."
Sora's smile was soft, but distant. "Trouble has a way of saving itself. Welcome, Rin."
She hesitated, then added quietly, "You're really selling this stuff?"
"Would you like to find out?"
---
Within minutes, laughter — real, disbelieving laughter — filled the air.
Rin bit into a piece of bread like it might vanish, her eyes shining. "It's… soft," she whispered. "God, it's real."
Kai opened a can of tea and nearly cried. "This tastes like… before."
The gray-eyed man, who introduced himself as Taro, watched Sora the entire time. He hadn't spoken much since entering, but there was a sharp intelligence in his gaze, and something else — curiosity.
"This place," he said finally, "how long has it been here?"
Sora considered him. "Exactly six days."
"Then everyone's going to know soon."
Sora didn't deny it. "They already do."
---
Outside the Nexus, the sky was turning gold with dusk. The surviving group lingered near the doorway, clutching their purchases like relics.
Rin turned to Sora, cheeks flushed from warmth and disbelief. "If anyone asks—what should we tell them?"
Sora tilted his head slightly. "Tell them the truth."
"That a shop appeared in the middle of nowhere, run by a pretty ghost who sells miracles?"
He smiled. "If that's what they see, that's what I am."
Rin blinked, caught off-guard by the soft confidence in his tone. "You're something else, lady."
Sora's red eyes glinted faintly in the fading light. "You have no idea."
---
That night, as they vanished into the ruins, the rumor began to spread again—this time faster, louder, more impossible.
By dawn, word had reached three major routes:
Fort Kurogane, already alert to new trade.
Shinten Settlement, a scavenger haven in the northern valley.
The Iron Dogs, a rogue camp of raiders and mercenaries who believed anything that clean had to be stolen tech.
> [Host, projection indicates three new factions approaching within seventy-two hours.]
[Customer count: 31.]
[Daily revenue: 5,240 Points.]
Sora leaned against the counter, watching the faint sunrise glow through the glass. His reflection shimmered back — pale, red-eyed, serene.
"Three factions, huh?" he murmured. "Guess I should wear something nice."
> [Recommendation: Defensive preparation.]
"Hmm." He tapped his lip thoughtfully. "Or tea."
He turned away, humming softly as the Nexus hummed to life, its shelves gleaming like a beacon amid the apocalypse.
Somewhere far beyond, the world began to stir — and so did the eyes watching him from the dark.