Chapter 37: The Currency of the New World Order

Michael’s eyes remained locked onto the glowing blue interface floating in his vision. He was already deep within the weapons section of the System’s shop, his mind working fast as he evaluated his options.

The recent acquisition of [Teleportation] had completely altered his tactical reality, but it had also exposed a glaring flaw in his current setup. His basic spear, while highly effective for holding a defensive line alongside Rashid and Maximilian, was an absolute hindrance for close-quarters teleportation combat. A long-hafted weapon required space to swing and thrust; it was completely incompatible with the instantaneous shifts of spatial movement where a fraction of a second and a single tight angle decided who lived and who died. He needed a short-range weapon—a blade, a dagger, or a shortsword—something that could flash out of the void the exact moment he reappeared behind an enemy’s flank.

As he mentally scrolled through the digital catalog of various items, his analytical gaze drifted from the weapon names to the pricing column. He froze.

Below every single item, the price was listed not in system points or attribute values, but in a completely unknown metric: **Mana Crystals**.

Michael stared at the shimmering words, the air growing cold in his lungs as a massive realization began to take shape in his mind. The System had provided absolutely no prior information about these crystals. There had been no global tutorial, no pop-up notification explaining their existence, and no guide on how to obtain them. Yet here they were, serving as the exclusive denomination for the entire shop inventory.

A sudden, chilling epiphany washed over him—one that had nothing to do with the physical blades themselves. This was not just a simple item shop; it was the foundation of a completely new world economy. The realization hit him with mental force.

The introduction of this currency would massively alter the entire global structure. The old social contracts, the paper currencies of nations, and the traditional hierarchies of wealth were instantly rendered obsolete. In this broken new world, a new market system was being born right before his eyes. Whoever figured out how to acquire, hoard, and control the flow of these Mana Crystals would not just survive—they would dictate the new laws of human civilization, commanding a layer of power that would reshape the destiny of humanity itself.

While his mind raced through these staggering macro-economic calculations, he completely tuned out his surroundings. The ambient noise of the Audimax faded into a dull, non-existent buzz. A few hundred meters away, out in the main hallway and near the entrance, the rest of the survivors were engaged in a frantic, loud-voiced discussion. Panic, desperation, and hysterical arguments echoed off the concrete walls as the students tried to figure out what to do next. But Michael heard none of it. His focus was entirely consumed by the blue light of the interface and the strategic puzzle floating in front of him.

*If this is the true currency of the System,* Michael reasoned, his eyes narrowing in the dim emergency lighting, *then I have a monumental advantage because I am the one who already figured out what they are.*

It had not been a random stroke of luck. Michael had specifically gone looking for them. In every video game he had ever played before the apocalypse, monsters left behind some form of loot or currency upon death. Yet, during the brutal waves of slaughter, no items had automatically materialized in their inventories or dropped onto the floor when a beast fell. Recognizing this mechanical anomaly early on, Michael had used his gamer logic to deduce that the loot must be physical, trapped within the anatomy of the creatures themselves.

He had acted on this theory together with his troop. Slicing open the heads of the defeated monsters, they had searched the grotesque grey matter and discovered the small, energy-infused shards hidden inside. Until this moment, acting as a loyal and cooperative leader, he had dutifully shared every single crystal they extracted, distributing them equally among his companions to ensure the entire unit advanced together.

Taken from NovelPhoenix, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

But now, looking at the shop, the rules of the game had changed.

*I must hurry and exploit this advantage to its absolute limit,* Michael thought, a cold, calculating greed taking root in his chest. *The others will inevitably notice the pattern sooner or later. There are countless un-looted corpses lying across the Audimax right now. If the rest of the survivors catch wind of what these crystals actually do, I will be forced to share the wealth with the masses. I can’t let that happen.*

To ensure he wouldn’t be interrupted or forced to split the spoils, he chose not to join the loud discussion near the hallway entrance. Instead, he utilized the fruits of his earlier experiments. Before the battle had entirely settled, he had teleported himself much deeper into the shadows of the Audimax.

Stepping up to the nearest carcass—a Level 3 boar-variant—Michael drew his spear and knelt down. He flipped the weapon, using the iron tip as a crude lever.

The first extraction was grim. He drove the spear tip directly into the center of the beast’s fractured skull, right between its dead eyes. He leaned his weight into the shaft, pushing downward until he felt the resistance of thick bone. With a sickening, wet *crunch*, the skull plates parted. The heavy stench of metallic blood and rotting marrow flooded his nose, but Michael didn’t even blink. He reached his bare hand into the black ichor, his fingers combing through the cold tissue until they brushed against a sharp, solid object. He pulled it free. It was a jagged, translucent violet stone, humming with residual energy.

He wiped the black slime onto the floor and moved immediately to the next body—a Level 3 Wolf-Variant that had been impaled through the chest.

The second time was smoother, his movements already adapting to the anatomy of the harvest. With a swift, powerful downward thrust, he split the bone wide open with a sharp *pop*. He didn’t hesitate, plunging his hand directly into the cavity to extract a second, slightly larger crystal that vibrated against his palm with a faint resonance.

He didn’t stop. He became a silent phantom moving through the darkness of the ruined hall, repeating the brutal process over and over again. In the wake of all the terrifying waves that had assaulted their position, a grand total of 150 monsters had fallen in this sector since the beginning of the apocalypse. That meant 150 potential crystals. Michael worked with a tireless, mechanical rhythm, harvesting every single corpse until his hands were entirely stained black and his inventory was bursting.

When he finally pulled the last violet shard from the final carcass, he checked his total balance. Combined with the 30 crystals he had previously salvaged and pooled with his troop during their initial tests, he now possessed an astonishing hoard of **180 Mana Crystals**.

*This is incredible. What can I buy with all of this?* he thought to himself, a genuine surge of anticipation rushing through him as he opened the shop interface once again.

His gaze returned directly to the weapons area. He strictly needed a short blade—a dagger, a sword, something built for instantaneous reactions. He scrolled down to the very bottom of the listings, checking the cheapest options first to establish a baseline. There, a basic entry caught his eye: a Level 1 weapon costing a meager 5 Mana Crystals. It displayed absolutely no numerical values, no stat bonuses, and no attributes—only a stark, unadorned description: *Common Knife*.

Michael stared at the entry, his analytical mind dissecting the System’s phrasing. *“Five crystals for a basic knife,“* he muttered under his breath. *That equates to five separate monster kills just to purchase the lowest tier of weaponry. There is no way the System means a ordinary, mundane kitchen knife for that price. It must have some inherent magical durability, but I can’t be certain.*

However, he had no desire to waste his newly acquired fortune just to run quality-control tests on trash-tier gear. He wanted a weapon that matched his status, something that would maximize the lethality of his spatial magic. Guided strictly by the written descriptions, he scrolled past the low-level daggers until his eyes locked onto a weapon that stood out from the rest.

It was a beautifully balanced weapon listed at Level 5. The description was brief, confident, and absolute: **The best shortsword of ist level.**

The price tag read **100 Mana Crystals**.

It was a massive sum—more than half of the hard-earned wealth he had just pulled from the skulls of the dead—but Michael didn’t hesitate for a single second. He tapped the purchase button, confirming the transaction.

Michael was grinning all the time but now it intensified with the buy-order. If someone saw him they would believe he was a child who was about to get the best toy to play.