Awakening a 10,000x Skill Proficiency Multiplier in the Apocalypse

”It’s hilarious,” Sebastian corrected, tapping the console. ”Gwen, plot an intercept course.

Match their speed and trajectory. Keep us in their sensor blind spot until we are right on top of them.”

”You want me to ram them?!” she asked, her eyes going wide.

”No, I don’t want to scratch the paint. Just pull up alongside them,” Sebastian said, cracking his knuckles. ”I’m going to invite myself aboard.”

The smuggler’s skiff surged forward, its anti-gravity engines whining as Gwen expertly navigated through the purple cosmic smog.

She piloted the junker with the absolute precision of a woman who had spent three years outrunning literal space monsters.

Ahead of them, the sleek, gold-plated transport vessel of the Admin-in-training glided smoothly toward the massive, rotating rings of the System Hub.

Gwen drifted the skiff perfectly into the transport’s blind spot, pulling up directly beneath its lower hull.

”We are attached,” Gwen whispered, cutting the primary thrusters. ”You have maybe two minutes before his proximity sensors realize we’re here. What’s the plan? You going to punch a hole in the floorboards?”

”No property damage today,” Sebastian said, reaching out to the heavy blast door of the airlock. ”I’m going to use the backdoor.”

He didn’t put on a space suit. He just tapped his [Concept of Mass], dropping his weight to near-zero, and stepped out into the freezing, breathless vacuum of the Juncture.

Sebastian drifted upward, floating silently toward the glowing underbelly of the pristine transport ship. He found the manual maintenance hatch near the engine block. It was locked with a high-tier runic seal.

He didn’t bother hacking it. He just placed his hand over the lock, isolated the concept of friction within the locking mechanism, and set the value to zero.

The heavy metal bolts instantly slid completely out of their housings, utterly unable to grip the metal.

With a soft, muffled clank, the hatch opened.

Sebastian pulled himself inside, restoring his physical mass the moment he crossed the atmospheric threshold.

The interior of the transport ship smelled like lavender and expensive, sterilized air. It was a stark contrast to the absolute misery of the Juncture outside. Sebastian walked silently down the pristine, white-carpeted hallway, his heavy boots making absolutely no sound thanks to his hyper-optimized physical control.

He reached the cockpit. The door was wide open.

Sitting in a plush, velvet-lined captain’s chair was Corvin.

The Admin-in-training looked exactly like the kind of guy Sebastian loved to punch. He wore a tailored suit of glowing white silk, completely impractical for actual combat. His hair was slicked back, and he was currently swiping lazily through a holographic datapad, sipping from a glass of sparkling blue water.

Floating above his head was his data.

[Entity Identified: Corvin] [Class: Bureaucrat / Junior Administrator] [Level: 55]

”Computer,” Corvin said aloud, his voice dripping with an annoying, aristocratic drawl.

”Log the collection from Server 312. Four hundred thousand Soul Shards. Honestly, the peasants in that sector are barely producing. Remind me to draft an execution order for their Guild Master tomorrow.”

”You know, middle management is really bad for your health,” a cold, deadpan voice echoed from the doorway.

Corbin violently jumped, spilling his sparkling water all over his pristine white lap. He spun around, his eyes going wide as he saw the towering, black-clad Drifter leaning casually against the doorframe.

”What?!” Corvin shrieked, scrambling backward in his chair. ”How did you get in here?! Who are you?!”

”I’m the IT guy,” Sebastian said, taking a slow step forward. ”And your account has been flagged for suspicious activity.”

”Guards! Automated defense sequence!”

Corvin yelled, frantically slapping the console.

Nothing happened.

Sebastian had already deleted the spatial coordinates of the ship’s internal security turrets. They literally didn’t exist anymore.

”Save your breath, Corvin,” Sebastian sighed, walking right up to the terrified bureaucrat. ”The turrets are gone. Your comms are jammed. You are completely alone in a soundproof box with a guy who really, really hates corporate snobs.”

Corvin tried to summon a magical shield, his hands glowing with a faint, golden light.

Sebastian just reached out, his Demigod-tier speed completely bypassing the Level 55’s reaction time. He grabbed Corvin by the throat and lifted him entirely out of the chair.

”G-Guk!” Corvin choked, his defensive magic instantly fizzling out as the sheer, terrifying physical pressure of Sebastian’s grip crushed his windpipe.

”Now, listen closely,” Sebastian whispered, his silver eyes locking onto the terrified bureaucrat’s face. ”I need to get into the Hub. I need to get past the Golden Rings. And unfortunately, I can’t just walk through the front door.”

Sebastian dropped Corvin back into the chair.

The Admin-in-training gasped for air, clutching his bruised throat, tears streaming down his face.

”You... you’re insane,” Corvin wheezed. ”The Golden Rings scan every byte of data! They scan your soul! If you don’t have an authorized Admin ID, they will vaporize you! You can’t just steal my badge!”

”I’m not going to steal your badge,” Sebastian smirked, a dark, predatory expression that made Corvin shrink back into the velvet cushions. ”I’m going to steal you.”

Sebastian opened his green, corrupted Admin UI. He activated his [Code Compiler].

Back on the skiff, Corbin the mechanic had asked how they were going to bypass the most advanced firewall in the multiverse.

Sebastian hadn’t told him the full plan, because if he had, the mechanic would have passed out from sheer panic.

You couldn’t fake an Admin’s biological signature. You couldn’t spoof a soul. The Golden Rings would instantly detect a foreign entity walking through the gate.

Unless that entity wasn’t registered as a player anymore.

”What... what are you doing?” Corvin panicked, watching the green, static-filled holographic screens expand around Sebastian.

”I’m zipping a file,” Sebastian said flatly.

He didn’t target Corvin. He targeted himself.

[Warning: Self-Targeting Initiated. Extreme Risk to Biological Vessel.]

Sebastian grabbed his 10,000x multiplier and forcefully shoved it into his own physical rendering code. He didn’t just alter his mass this time. He engaged a complete, catastrophic data compression.

”GAAAAAH!”