Chapter 2: The First Game

The hall was filled with a strange motivation. The deceased were given a chance—either to return to their families, their lives, and their jobs, or to live out their wildest dreams as heroes in another world.

Many quickly concluded they wanted to go back, yearning for the lives they had lost.Their futures.

But others thought of the terrible things awaiting them if they returned—debts, betrayals, sickness—and decided otherwise.

“Do I really wanna go back?” Jamie muttered under his breath.

He had lived a good life—loving parents, a girlfriend who cared for him, and countless memories that still burned warmly in his mind. His determination hardened.

“I want to go back,” he whispered firmly.

“What happens if we lose?” the Commander asked loudly.

“Then your souls will be lost forever… forgotten,” came the answer.

Gasps rippled through the hall, the tension thick enough to suffocate.

“Statistically…” Alexander’s calm voice cut through the unease. “How many people actually finish these so-called games?” he inquired.

Caster paused. His lips curled into a grim smile before he answered.

“Only two.”

Panic struck like a blade, echoing across the hall as mutters erupted.

“Just two?”

“No way…”

“That’s impossible…”

“That’s what makes this truly exceptional,” Caster added, his tone unfazed.

Everyone’s hearts sank. They had just realized the truth—the odds of survival were nearly zero.

“Everyone! There’s no reason to freak out!” the Commander barked, drawing every eye to him.

“If we all work together, we can win the games together!” he declared, rallying the people to his side.

Confidence surged again. It was survival instinct—when alone you can’t win, cling to the strongest. Many flocked to him, looking at him like a savior.

A smirk tugged at the Commander’s lips.

“I’ve got these people in the palm of my hand,” he thought proudly.

Order returned, though smaller groups still clung to their own corners of the room. The Commander’s group, however, was now the largest.

“Put your fingerprints on the scanner to open your systems!” Caster instructed.

One by one, they pressed their fingers on the glowing tabs.

[Welcome to the System.]

The message greeted them, and astonishment filled their faces.

Jamie’s jaw tightened as he studied his stats.

Strength: 9

Agility: 30

Endurance: 20

Speed: 20

Intelligence: 10

Mana: 15

Combat Experience: 20

“My life is hanging on this,” he thought bitterly.

“I guess going to the gym and practicing runs actually paid off…”

Still, compared to others, his attributes were painfully average. Some people were worse off—office workers with no strength at all, their stats bottomed out.

Caster’s voice rang out once more.

“On top of your screens, you’ll notice three types of points, each with different rarities.”

[Blue Points: 0]

[Silver Points: 2]

[Golden Points: 0]

“Use the silver points to redeem weapons from the store!” he announced.

“Weapons?”

“Cool!”

“The display—it’s just like an RPG!”

“That means the store’s here too!”

With a flicker, a list of 32 weapons appeared before them, each of different cultural origin.

“Fascinating… and they all cost just two silver points.” Alexander admired, twin blades materializing in his hands, gleaming with deadly promise.

Across the hall, the long-haired man at the fountain spun a double-edged spear with practiced ease, the air whistling around it. All eyes were drawn to him.

“These are nice,” Bray muttered as a black chain with a knife at the end manifested in his hand, glimmering ominously.

As others admired their weapons, Jamie was still scrolling desperately, trying to choose.

“Which weapon should I buy?” he muttered. “Dual swords would be nice…”

Then his eyes lit up.

“What about these!”

A pair of Kali sticks appeared in his hands, humming with energy.

Groups began sharing tips on how to open the store tab. Within minutes, everyone had a weapon of their own.

“Now that we’re finished…” Caster’s hologram flickered. “Let the first game begin!”

The walls of the hall sealed shut. Everyone stiffened, alert, listening intently.

Then—

Cough.

Cough.

Eyes darted as an old man clutched his chest, his face twisting in pain.

Cough… cough.

A large woman followed, collapsing with dizziness.

“I feel… dizzy,” Jamie muttered, shaking his head.

“Something’s wrong,” Alexander growled.

Suddenly, a red timer blinked into existence above the hall, accompanied by a player count.

Numbers beautifully designed, but spelling certain destruction:

[10:00]

[300 Players]

[Attention, players.]

[The oxygen level in this room is being depleted. In 10 minutes, there will only be enough to sustain 40 people.]

“Barbaric,” the old man wheezed.

[Use any means possible to survive.]

[The winners will advance to the next stage.]

[Begin.]

[9:59]

The hall erupted into chaos, panic and bloodlust filling the already suffocating air.

“I guess 260 players have to die,” Bray muttered darkly, cracking his neck.

“Seriously?” Jamie shot back.

“That’s our only chance,” Bray said coldly. “Can’t you feel it? With every second, death gets closer.”

The truth was undeniable. To survive, they had to kill—until only 40 remained.

Tension thickened. Eyes sharpened, bloodlust flickered. Everyone scanned for weakness, searching for an opening.

[9:00]

One minute passed. Nobody moved. The oxygen levels dropped further.

Then—

A kunai whistled through the air and buried itself in the old man’s throat.

A roar followed.

“ATTACK!”

The sound of rushing feet thundered like a stampede. Weapons flashed, desperation igniting the madness.

“Kill the weak ones first!” the Commander bellowed, pointing toward the old and frail.

A storm of blades descended. In seconds, dozens were cut down mercilessly.

On the trio’s side of the hall, Bray’s chain whirled like a black storm, slicing through every body it touched.

“Behind you, Jamie!” Alexander shouted, driving a blade into a man’s skull.

Jamie spun, narrowly dodging a katana aimed at his head. He countered with a sharp kick to his attacker’s face, sending the man flying.

“Thanks!”

“No need to thank me.”

“Bray!”

“What?”

“We need to get to the guy near the fountain!”

“Why?”

“Just trust me!”

The three fought their way forward, every stab and swing bringing them closer to the fountain.

“HELP!”

A man screamed as the long-haired warrior’s spear skewered his stomach. With brutal grace, the man ripped it out, spinning to cleave a charging brute in half, blood spraying across the fountain’s base.

“Clearly, he doesn’t need our help,” Bray muttered, parrying another strike.

“He doesn’t. But we do!” Jamie snapped back.

“Mind if we join you?” Alexander called out.

The long-haired man’s eyes narrowed, assessing him silently. After a long pause, he nodded.

“No problem.”

Just like that, the trio became four. Covering each other’s blind spots, their fighting rhythm synced seamlessly. The loading symbols above their heads glowed faintly, their strange light making them seem unstoppable.

But their joy was short-lived. Already, 250 players were dead. Seven minutes had passed.

They were now the lowest numbered group left. Surrounded. Dozens of hostile eyes locked on them.

“Leave the long haired one to me,” the Commander taunted, cracking his fingers with confidence.

Jamie’s heart pounded. “I can’t believe I’m gonna die here…”

The four braced themselves, but the truth was undeniable—four people couldn’t survive against forty-six. Their fate was sealed.

Then—

A mysterious female voice echoed, sweet yet terrifying.

“I like it when this happens…”

Suddenly, the loading symbols above their heads vanished.

In their place, golden broken shield symbols flared to life, their glow so bright it nearly blinded the hall.

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