Duc Tran opened his eyes. White ceiling. Spinning fan. The distant wail of traffic — familiar enough to make his stomach turn. He lay still, staring upward. Not because he was tired. Because he was counting. *Three... two... one...* "Ding." His phone. A text from his boss: "Happy New Year, Duc! Enjoy the holiday!" January 1st. He knew. He'd received this exact message ninety-eight times. Duc sat up slowly, palms pressing into the edge of the mattress. The fifteen-square-meter apartment — yellowed walls, cold tile floor, cluttered desk — hadn't changed. It never changed. But this time, something was different. He closed his eyes, and the memories hit — not in fragments like before, but as a flood. Ninety-eight loops. Six hundred and eighty-six days. Every death, every face, every drop of blood — vivid as a film played in slow motion. Loop 5: First awakening. He thought he'd lost his mind. Loop 12: First time seeing a monster. Dead within three minutes. Loop 37: First time surviving to Day 4. Then killed by his own kind — another Awakened, who wanted his Skill. Loop 73: First time meeting her. Vy Le. Medical resident, hair pulled back, bright eyes, warm smile. She died right in front of him. A B-Class monster tore through her chest — her blood sprayed across his face, hot and sudden. He couldn't forget. Didn't want to. Loop 98: First — and only — time surviving to Day 7. And he died there. Stabbed from behind by his own teammate. The one who called himself "Shadow." Duc opened his eyes, drew a deep breath. His hand trembled — not from fear, but from rage. A cold anger, crystallized across ninety-eight cycles of dying and coming back. "This time..." He raised his right hand. A translucent panel materialized before his eyes — but different. Completely different from every previous loop. --- **[STATUS PANEL — LOOP 99]** Name: Duc Tran Level: 1 *(Reset)* Skill: [System Analysis] — Lv.MAX Special: **Complete memory (98 loops)** Warning: *Humanity Erosion — 31%* --- He stared at the last line. *Humanity Erosion — 31%.* Thirty-one percent. Meaning nearly a third of his humanity — emotions, personal memories, capacity for empathy — had been consumed by the System across ninety-eight loops. He remembered. In Loop 60, he could still cry when teammates died. By Loop 80, he only felt annoyed. By Loop 95, he couldn't remember their names. *But I still remember her.* Vy Le. That name was carved into his brain deeper than any Skill or data the System had ever given him. He stood, walked to the window. Outside, Haiwan City was waking up — traffic humming, pedestrians laughing, vendors setting up stalls. The faint smell of last night's fireworks lingered in the salt-tinged breeze. No one knew. In a few hours, the System would activate. Cracks would appear in the sky. Monsters would pour through. And the normal life that three million people were enjoying down below would end. Again. But this time, Duc Tran wasn't helpless. He knew where the monsters would appear, when, what class. He knew who would Awaken, who would betray, who would die. He knew where "Shadow" — Khanh Nguyen — was hiding. And he knew Vy Le. In Loop 99, she would Awaken late — Day 3, at Haiwan General Hospital. But before that, at 2:03 PM today, a truck would lose control on Tran Hung Dao Street and plow straight into the café where she sat. In Loop 12, she died there. In Loop 37, the same. In Loop 73, he arrived three minutes late. This time, he would not be late. He checked the clock. 8:07 AM. Almost six hours. --- The Blue Sea café sat at the corner of Tran Hung Dao and Nguyen Hue — a small place, green awning sun-faded to grey, wooden tables arranged on the sidewalk. Inside it was darker, the ancient ceiling fan clicking on each rotation, the smell of drip coffee mixing with the mustiness of old plaster. Duc chose the table furthest from the entrance and ordered black iced coffee. He didn't like coffee — the bitterness reminded him of the taste of dried blood from Loop 44 — but he needed a reason to be here. 10:23 AM. She hadn't arrived yet. In every loop, Vy Le came to this café at 11:00, ordered an iced latte, and sat reading a medical textbook. A habit that never changed — the System reset everything, including habits. He waited. One hour. Two hours. At 11:02, the glass door pushed open. Vy Le walked in. Hair in a high ponytail, white blouse folded neatly in her shoulder bag — just off a night shift. Her eyes were slightly shadowed but still bright, her step quick, a small smile for the girl at the counter. "Iced latte, please." Her voice — warm, clear, slightly hoarse from lack of sleep. Duc raised his coffee cup, hiding half his face. His hand trembled slightly. *There she is.* She chose the table by the window — just like always. Pulled out a thick textbook, opened to a bookmarked page, began reading. Occasionally furrowed her brow, scribbled a note in the margin with pencil. He watched her. Not covertly — he watched openly, without pretense. Across ninety-eight loops, he had watched her die seventeen times. Had tried to save her eight times. Failed all eight. This time would be different. *Has to be different.* He checked the clock. 11:15. Almost three hours before the truck lost control. Three hours. Enough. But he didn't want to wait until the last minute. He'd waited before — and lost her. He stood, picked up his coffee, walked to her table. "Excuse me." Vy looked up. Dark brown eyes, bright, meeting his directly — no fear, no hesitation, just mild curiosity. "Yes?" "The café's full. Mind if I sit here?" She glanced around — the café was nearly empty, only two occupied tables. She raised an eyebrow but didn't refuse. "Go ahead." He sat across from her. Set his coffee down. Said nothing. She studied him for a few seconds, then returned to her book. Didn't ask further. Didn't push. *That's her. That's exactly her.* --- Time crept forward. She ordered a banh mi at 12:30, ate slowly, eyes on her phone. Normal. Ordinary. He envied it — envied that normalcy. The luxury he'd lost long ago. 1:15 PM. "Hey," Vy said suddenly, looking at him. "You've been sitting here for nearly two hours doing nothing. Are you okay?" He flinched — not at the question, but at the tone. Genuine concern. Authentic. Uncontrived. "I'm fine." "You've been staring out the window the whole time. Like you're waiting for something." "I am waiting." "For what?" He looked at her. Three seconds of silence. "For something that's coming." She frowned, tilting her head. "You're being very mysterious." "Habit." She stared at him a beat longer, then smiled — the corner of her mouth lifting, eyes narrowing slightly. That smile — he remembered it. Remembered it more clearly than anything else across ninety-eight loops. "I'm Vy. Vy Le." He paused. In previous loops, she never introduced herself first. It was always him who had to initiate, to find a way in. "Duc Tran." "What do you do, Duc?" "IT." "Oh." She nodded. "So you usually sit in cafés staring out windows thinking about code?" "Something like that." She smiled again, then went back to her book. 1:45 PM. He began the calculations. *Truck loses control at 2:03. Hits the sidewalk in front of the café at 2:04. Glass shatters, debris flies inward. In Loop 12, a shard of glass cut across her throat.* He stood. "Vy." She looked up, slightly surprised at the familiarity. "Come with me." "What?" "Leave the café. Right now." His voice — flat, controlled, but something underneath. Something close to pleading — but not quite. Closer to... desperation. Vy stared at him, frowning. "Duc, I've known you for two hours—" "I know." He cut in. "But you need to trust me. Right now." She stood up — but not to follow him. To step back. "Are you threatening me?" "No. I'm saving you." Silence. Two seconds. Three. Then from far away — very far — the screech of brakes. Metal grinding on asphalt. A horn blaring. Duc's eyes widened. *Early. Earlier than expected.* He stopped thinking. His left hand seized her wrist, pulling her toward the back of the café. She cried out — but her cry was swallowed by the massive sound behind them. CRASH. A twelve-ton truck slammed through the sidewalk, flipping two motorbikes, plowing straight through the front of the Blue Sea café. Glass exploded — razor-sharp shards flying like rain, embedding in walls, in furniture, in the seat where Vy had been sitting. Dust. Screaming. Car alarms. Duc lay on top of Vy in the back corner, his spine catching a piece of glass — a sharp sting, warm blood running down his back. But he didn't move. "Are you hurt?" Vy lay beneath him, eyes wide, breathing hard. Her whole body shaking. But — uninjured. "I'm... I'm fine..." He sat up. Blood from the wound on his back seeped through his jacket. Not serious — he knew. He'd been hurt far worse hundreds of times. Outside, the screaming grew louder. The truck sat mangled, its cab crumpled, the driver unconscious behind the wheel. Vy looked at him — at the blood on his back, at his face, impossibly calm. "You... you knew." He didn't answer. Just looked up at the sky. The afternoon sky over Haiwan — blue, clear, a few white clouds drifting lazily. Normal. But he knew. In a few hours, that sky would crack. And everything would begin. *Loop 99. The last one.* He clenched his fist, blood from his wound dripping onto the shattered tile beneath him. *This time, I won't let anyone else die.* But deep in his mind, red text pulsed — a cold reminder: *Humanity Erosion — 31%.* *And rising.*