God Mode RV Reigns the Apocalypse

[Welcome to Roadbound.]

[This is a migration for all of humanity—and a flight with no finish line.]

[Whether you were a billionaire or a beggar, you all start equal—one vehicle, one life.]

[Your vehicle could be a plane, a tank, a taxi, a bicycle, a sports car, a fire truck, a subway train... Whatever you get, you'll automatically learn to drive it.]

[The road beneath you stretches on forever. It's your only path forward.]

[Remember—don't look back.]

[The Gray Mist is chasing you. Its speed is constant, and it consumes every living thing in its path.]

[Scavenge supplies. Upgrade your ride. Survive this deadly highway.]

A cold, synthetic voice detonated deep inside his skull. Jake Maddox's eyes snapped open.

The familiar ceiling of his bedroom was gone. In its place: a windshield.

Beyond the glass, the sky was the color of dirty ink—heavy, suffocating, pressing down like a lid.

He was in the driver's seat, both hands wrapped around a black steering wheel.

"I transmigrated?"

"Roadbound..." Jake muttered, his brain already processing the flood of information. As a modern guy who'd grown up on games and web novels, his tolerance for the absurd was higher than most.

He didn't panic. He didn't scream. He reached for his pocket.

His phone was gone.

In its place: a black handbook.

The cover was rough leather, stamped with a single countdown in blood-red numbers: [Time Until Gray Mist Arrives: 00:59:32]

This wasn't just a manual. It was a countdown to death.

Jake frowned and flipped to the first page.

[Survival Rules]

[1. Your vehicle is your safe zone. No one may enter without your permission.]

[2. Inside your vehicle, you are the absolute master. Players cannot harm you while you're inside. Items in your vehicle cannot be stolen—unless you die.]

[3. In this world, even common monsters are tough. But every kill drops rich rewards.]

[4. You must upgrade your vehicle to survive the dangers ahead.]

[5. Watch your Sanity. In this world, madness is worse than death.]

[6. 100,000 supply crates have been randomly scattered along the highway. Find them.]

[7. All data has been digitized. Mentally whisper "System" to view your status panel.]

(Note: When you summon your panel, other players can see it too. Check in private.)

Jake closed the handbook and focused on the empty space in front of him. "System."

A translucent blue hologram materialized instantly.

On the left was his personal status.

[Name: Jake Maddox]

[Race: Human]

[Status: Healthy (Mild Hunger)]

[Sanity: 100/100]

(Note: Below 30, suicidal thoughts. Below 20, auditory hallucinations. Below 10, total madness.)

[Mind: 5]

(Note: Average adult value. Higher Mind = better sanity resistance and faster recovery.)

[Physique: 5]

(Note: Composite of speed, strength, and defense.)

To the right were his vehicle stats.

[Vehicle: Civilian Class C Motorhome (Entry Model)]

[Level: Lv.1]

[Physical Defense: 20]

(Note: Barely withstands a Level 1 zombie's scratch.)

[Magic Resistance: 0]

[Weight: 3 tons]

[Storage Space: 8 cubic meters]

[Durability: 50%]

(Left front tire severely worn. Replacement recommended.)

[Fuel: 2%]

(Estimated range: 10 km)

[External Weapons: None]

[Overall Rating: A mobile iron coffin. Best to pick a nice cemetery.]

Jake's pupils contracted.

2%?

Ten kilometers of fuel?

This wasn't survival. This was a death sentence.

And then the cold mechanical voice returned, broadcasting to every player in the region with the finality of a guillotine blade.

[Region Announcement: Attention, all players in Zone C-996.]

[Your current location is the Zombie Wasteland. The Gray Mist has begun spreading. Distance to your starting point: 30 km.]

[Spread speed: 30 km/h.]

[Start your engines and flee immediately. If the Gray Mist catches you, nothing will remain.]

'One hour? Thirty kilometers an hour?'

Jake's mind raced.

If his vehicle had only 10 km of range, even if he floored it, he'd be dead in the water within ten minutes. Once he stalled, the Gray Mist would swallow him whole.

He clenched his jaw and opened the blinking [Regional Chat].

The channel was absolute chaos—panic spreading like a plague.

[HELP! Where the hell am I? I was just driving my Ferrari. Why am I in a busted van?!]

[At least you have a roof! I'm on a tricycle! I'm completely exposed to the open air!]

[Are you kidding me?! I got a scooter!]

[Can someone tell me how to read this gas gauge?! Mine's already below E!]

[Same here! System says I've got 20 km max! There's nothing out here but dirt. Where do we even get gas?!]

[This is murder! I want to go home! Please!!!]

[Anyone see a gas station?! ANYONE?!]

[Stop dreaming. This is some kind of bizarre apocalypse. You think the system will give you a full tank? It's forcing us out of our vehicles to scavenge!]

[But I can hear... things out there… growling. I'm not getting out. No way.]

Jake scanned the flood of messages. Most people were in the same boat. The system had given everyone the same cruel, desperate start: barely any fuel, forcing players to choose between risking their lives to find supply crates or getting overtaken by the Gray Mist.

This was the first filter. Round one would cull the timid, the unlucky, and the slow.

'At least I'm not on a tricycle.' Jake let out a long breath. 'Sitting here won't get me anywhere... I need to find supply crates.'

But just as he was about to turn the key, a crisp chime rang out in his mind. It was different from the system's cold voice. Clearer. More... otherworldly.

[Host soul signature detected. Binding external system...]

[Binding successful: Gold Mod Per Level (Unique)]

[Effect: Each time your vehicle gains a level, you will receive one Gold Mod. This mod can be forcibly applied to any component of your vehicle.]

[New Player Bonus Granted: Your motorhome starts at Lv.1. You may now draw your first Gold Mod.]