Chapter 2: A Second Chance to Be a Menace
940 Words
Arka stood in front of the cracked mirror, running a hand through his messy black hair. His reflection stared back at him—young, alive, and full of potential chaos.
He couldn’t believe it.
The last time he had been in this body, he was a broke university student barely scraping by, juggling part-time jobs just to afford rent and instant noodles. Back then, he had no idea that the world was going to end in ten years. No idea that he would be summoned to another world. No idea that he would die, betrayed by those he trusted most.
But now?
Now, he had *everything*—knowledge of the future, the System that had stayed with him, and a burning desire to make sure things went *his* way this time.
**[System Booting…]**
A familiar blue screen popped up in front of him.
**[Welcome, User Arka.]**
**[Current Status: Regression Successful.]**
**[Would you like to check your retained abilities?]**
Arka grinned. “Hell yes.”
The blue screen shifted, displaying a list of his skills.
**[Skills Retained from Previous Life:]**
- **Sword Mastery (Max)** – Your swordsmanship is at an inhuman level. Again.
- **Magic Resistance (High)** – Tired of getting hit by magic? Good news—you still resist most of it.
- **Enhanced Reflexes (Max)** – Your body reacts before you think. No more tripping over trash cans.
- **Battle Instincts (Max)** – You can read your opponent’s moves like an open book. No more getting stabbed.
- **System Administrator’s Favor (?)** – …Wait, what?
Arka blinked at the last skill.
“What the hell is ‘System Administrator’s Favor’?”
**[Skill Description Unavailable.]**
His grin faltered. The System was always direct about its skills, but this was the first time it had ever hidden information from him.
“Great,” he muttered. “Guess I’ll figure that out later.”
For now, he had bigger priorities—like figuring out what to do with this second chance.
---
### **Step One: Get Money.**
The apocalypse wouldn’t start for another ten years, but the cracks in reality would begin much sooner. In about two months, the first Dungeon Gate would appear in a remote area, and the world would begin its slow descent into chaos. Governments would panic. People would die. But the ones who adapted quickly would rise to power.
And Arka planned to be one of them.
But before all that… he needed money.
Because while revenge was a dish best served cold, *rent* was due in three days.
---
Arka grabbed his wallet and checked its contents.
Total funds: **50,000 Rupiah.**
“…I’m poorer than I remember.”
It wasn’t even enough to buy a decent meal. He needed quick cash, and he had just the plan for it.
**Step Two: Become a Prodigy Gambler.**
In his past life, he had met a few underground gamblers who made a fortune before the apocalypse even started. Arka had never cared about gambling before, but now? With his **Enhanced Reflexes** and **Battle Instincts**, he could read micro-expressions and predict outcomes with insane accuracy.
Which meant…
**Time to scam some rich idiots.**
---
### **A Shady Card Game**
Arka walked into a dimly lit underground bar. The kind of place where people didn’t ask questions as long as you had money.
At the back of the room, a group of men sat around a table, playing poker. Their laughter was loud, their pockets filled with cash, and their egos just big enough to make them easy targets.
Perfect.
Arka approached the table with a confident smirk. “Mind if I join?”
One of the players, a burly man with a gold chain, raised an eyebrow. “You got money, kid?”
Arka placed his last 50,000 on the table. “Enough to get started.”
The men laughed. One of them, a wiry guy with slicked-back hair, smirked. “Alright, newbie. Let’s see what you got.”
---
### **Ten Minutes Later…**
Arka flipped his cards over. “Royal Flush.”
The table went silent.
The burly man cursed. “Are you serious? Again?!”
Arka grinned. He had been **reading their bluffs**, predicting **every single move**, and winning **every single hand**. His reflexes allowed him to track the cards with ridiculous precision, and his instincts made it impossible to lose.
And now?
Now he had **five million rupiah** in front of him.
“Welp,” Arka stretched. “This was fun, but I think I’ll cash out now.”
The wiry man’s smirk disappeared. “Hold on there, kid. You’re too lucky for this to be normal.”
The burly man cracked his knuckles. “Yeah… maybe we should have a *talk* about how you keep winning.”
Arka sighed. “Really? We’re doing this?”
One of them reached for him.
**Bad move.**
Before the guy could even blink, Arka grabbed his wrist, twisted it, and slammed his face into the table. Hard.
*CRACK!*
The entire bar fell silent.
Arka smiled innocently. “Anyone else?”
The rest of the gamblers shook their heads furiously.
“Good. I’ll be taking my winnings now.”
---
### **Step Three: Buy a Damn Meal**
With a pocket full of cash and a bounce in his step, Arka left the underground bar, already planning his next move.
Money? Handled.
Next up? Finding the people who would become major players in the apocalypse—and either recruiting them or taking them out *before* they became a problem.
Because this time, he wasn’t going to be a clueless hero.
This time, he was going to *win*.
---
**End of Chapter 2**
- Writer
