I Only Wanted A Class In The Apocalypse Chapter 4 - I Want To Be A Winner

"So, where did you come from, stranger?"

She suddenly posed that question after we had walked in silence for ten minutes. All this while, I had been completely immersed in my inner thoughts.

Truth be told, I never truly believed the words of the old man from before. I always dismissed them as lies. Yet everything surrounding me now screamed the opposite.

I had no clue how he pulled it off, but somehow I got sent back through time—nearly ninety-nine years—to the very dawn of the apocalypse.

Those were brutal days when every human faced relentless trials daily.

The apocalypse claimed over ninety percent of humanity's population. It wasn't just a devastating strike against our civilization, wiping out millennia of progress, but a dire threat that nearly wiped out our species entirely.

Uncertainty gripped me—should I thank the old man or curse him? Nobody in their right mind would choose to plunge into this nightmare willingly. But now, an unparalleled opportunity lay before me: to claim a class of my own and rewrite my fate.

"What makes you think I'm a stranger?" I responded flatly, struggling to organize my swirling thoughts. I attempted to summon every scrap of apocalypse knowledge I possessed. Yet a nagging issue persisted.

Two entirely contrasting tales existed about those events! One was the version everyone in my era accepted as truth, while the other came straight from the old man's lips.

Oddly, comparing them side by side left me furrowing my brow. The core sequence of happenings aligned, but the human responses and exploits during those crises diverged wildly.

My familiar story depicted desperate scrambles for mere survival, leaving no room for more. Conversely, his painted a saga of monumental clashes, valiant stands, heroic feats, and triumphant wins.

"Come on, it's obvious," Isabella remarked, then continued, "your name sounds odd, and your outfit appears bizarre. Beyond your Asian traits, even your accent… it comes off as strange and amusing."

Glancing at her, I had to concede her observations rang true. The old man had described her as sharp-minded, intelligent, harboring presidential aspirations before the apocalypse struck.

Her appearance and demeanor perfectly matched the old man's portrait of the girl walking beside me. This sparked recall of his final warning before hurling me here.

A girl like her was fated for monumental achievements amid the apocalypse! Why then did no records from my era mention her?

'With such remarkable traits in you, and countless classless humans boasting similar gifts, why did their forebears falter so catastrophically during the apocalypse?'

The old man's voice echoed in my mind, delivering a rational explanation I'd stubbornly rejected earlier.

"Not sharing?" she asked, her voice tinged with disappointment.

"Share about yourself first," I countered, stalling to craft a fitting, believable reply. After all, if the old man spoke truth, keeping this girl nearby could prove vital for my survival.

"Oops, how rude of me," she caught on that she'd interrogated without reciprocating, "I hail from Washington DC, here for the world student forum. I arrived with my high school buddies, but they're not much fun."

"Bullying you?" I probed, straining to dredge up more details about her. Endless replays of the old man's tales via those irritating beads hadn't ingrained everything deeply.

Back then, my mind rebelled against what I deemed falsehoods, letting much slip away. Now I regretted ignoring them, not treating those accounts with gravity—or I'd know far more about her.

"That describes them well enough," she confessed calmly, as if unperturbed, "but it's my final year there. Then off to a top college, launching my true journey to chase my ambitions."

"Like what?" I dragged out time with sensible queries, urging her to talk while I stayed silent.

"You'd laugh if I revealed them," she hesitated, and I couldn't suppress a grin.

"Don't say you dream of becoming this nation's president someday," I ventured, scrutinizing her face intently.

I yearned to confirm… to verify if my recollections held true… to ascertain if she truly embodied the girl from the old man's stories.

"H-How did you know?!" Her face froze in stunned surprise, like a culprit exposed—though my own astonishment dwarfed hers.

'It's… genuine!' I marveled inwardly, 'She's… the one!'

"I just picked the loftiest goal imaginable," since she checked out, I deflected suspicion smoothly, "yet it suits a spirited young lady like you perfectly."

"You sound like some ancient geezer," she laughed lightly, her features lighting up with joy.

She struck me as a solitary soul, shunned and misjudged by classmates. A dreamer with grand visions nobody took seriously.

Strangely, she mirrored me. I sensed a profound connection, deeper than any she'd known. We were alike—lone warriors battling cruel fates single-handedly against impossible odds.

"I respect your drive," I figured compliments would draw her nearer, "I envy dreams as bold as yours."

"So what fuels you, Hye?" she inquired, prompting my correction: "It's Hye, rhymes with 'hey,' not 'hi.'"

"Still strikes me as quirky," she tittered, then pressed, "share your dreams, Hye."

Her radiant smile captivated me, pulling me into a reverie.

Torrents of past sufferings surged through my mind in an instant. Every unfair blow, every obstacle towering in my way… My entire saga replayed vividly, like a hazy, half-forgotten nightmare.

"I crave… simply to endure and excel in this world," I uttered deliberately.

"I'm sure you'll manage splendidly," oblivious to my words' gravity, she added, "look, we're here already—time zipped by."

The iconic Central Park sprawled before us, my chosen launchpad for this odyssey.

Throngs packed the area, mirroring New York's bustle everywhere. Witnessing folks stroll, converse, laugh, basking in tranquility stirred envy within me.

I hailed from a realm demanding bowed heads for survival—never daring to lift gaze, speak out, or risk provoking other races' wrath.

I once believed that was living. But beholding these carefree souls fretting only over jobs and paychecks unveiled the truth.

Previously, I hadn't lived… I'd languished in a colossal cage! One that stripped life of essence and purpose. Worst of all, it robbed us—robbed me—of hope.

"Where to inside?" she queried upon entering the park, "Metropolitan Museum of Art? That's the site of the big gathering."

"Plenty of time before then, yeah?" I remembered her mentioning hours remaining till that fated assembly—which I knew wouldn't transpire. The apocalypse loomed mere minutes away.

First, I had to reach a specific spot before chaos erupted, with her in tow.

"We've got…" she checked her phone, "roughly three hours."

"Perfect," I replied, "head to the green lawn."

"Not famished?" she piped up unexpectedly, "grab some food en route?"

Post-apocalypse, this world's cuisine would vanish. Still, tales of local fast food, particularly burgers I'd never sampled, tantalized me.

"Burger it is," I declared resolutely as she agreed.

"Excellent pick—I'm craving one too."

En route to the closest burger joint, resolve hardened within me. 'Truth be damned who's right or wrong—I just need my own class and to outlast this hell,' I vowed silently. 'I'll live not as a failure, but for the first time… as a victor, a true champion.'

Fists balled tight, I trailed Isabella's lead with measured steps.