The wind stopped.
That was the first thing Arman noticed.
No more distant gunfire.
No more scattered chaos.
Just eight people.
And a circle barely larger than a football field.
Broken rocks. A burned-out vehicle. A shallow ditch. Open ground.
Nowhere to hide.
Remaining Players: 8
Arman crouched behind a jagged rock, steadying his breathing.
His hands weren't shaking anymore.
That scared him more than anything.
Gunfire exploded suddenly to his right.
Two players had spotted each other.
Short bursts.
Controlled.
One scream.
Remaining Players: 7
The System's voice echoed calmly.
[Final Phase Initiated.]
"Of course it is…" he muttered.
Predator's Sense pulsed automatically.
Three outlines flickered nearby.
One directly ahead.
One flanking left.
And—
One behind him.
Too close.
His body reacted before his mind.
He rolled sideways just as bullets tore through the rock where his head had been.
Stone shattered.
He fired back blindly while moving.
The attacker advanced aggressively — spraying shots.
Reckless.
Panicked.
Arman forced himself to breathe.
Aim.
Control.
Three shots.
The attacker stumbled.
Two more.
Silence.
Elimination Confirmed
Remaining Players: 6
Level 3 Achieved
A surge of energy flowed through him.
His movements felt lighter.
Faster.
A new skill prompt blinked.
Quick Reload Unlocked
He didn't even need to think before activating it.
Across the field, another player fell.
Remaining Players: 5
Then a voice echoed across the battlefield.
Calm.
Familiar.
"You're still alive."
Arman's chest tightened.
The rooftop player.
Standing near the burned vehicle.
Helmet removed now.
He looked mid-twenties.
Sharp eyes.
Composed expression.
No fear.
"You adapt quickly," the man continued, slowly circling.
Arman didn't lower his weapon.
"You could've killed me earlier."
"Yes."
"Why didn't you?"
The man tilted his head slightly.
"I wanted to see."
"See what?"
"If you were random… or different."
Gunshots cracked from the left.
Both of them dove for cover instantly.
A third player had tried to ambush.
The rooftop player eliminated them with frightening precision.
Remaining Players: 4
Now it was undeniable.
The man was strong.
Too strong for Level 1.
Arman narrowed his eyes.
"What level are you really?"
The man smiled faintly.
"Higher than this."
Arman's heart skipped.
"What does that mean?"
Before the man could answer—
An explosion ripped through the ground.
A grenade.
Thrown by another remaining player.
Both Arman and the rooftop player were blasted apart by the shockwave.
Arman hit the ground hard.
His vision blurred.
Pain exploded through his side.
His health indicator flashed red.
Critical.
He tried to stand.
His leg buckled.
Footsteps approached fast.
The grenade thrower rushed in to finish them.
The rooftop player was still down.
Arman forced himself up.
Gun raised with trembling arms.
The attacker fired first.
Bullets tore into Arman's vest.
Pain screamed through his body.
He was seconds from collapse.
Then—
Everything slowed.
Sound muffled.
Heartbeat thundered.
The System's voice changed.
No longer neutral.
Deeper.
Almost… interested.
[Subject ARMAN nearing termination.]
His vision flickered.
Memories flashed.
Uncle shouting.
Aunt sneering.
Cold dinners.
Empty wallet.
Lonely nights.
"I won't… die like this," he growled.
Something inside him snapped.
Hidden Threshold Reached.
His Predator's Sense surged violently.
Not faint outlines.
Clear.
Bright.
He could see the attacker's movement path before it happened.
He stepped aside instinctively.
The bullet missed.
He fired once.
Perfect.
Headshot.
The attacker collapsed.
Remaining Players: 3
Time resumed normally.
Arman staggered, barely standing.
"What… was that?"
[Evolution Triggered.]
A new notification appeared.
Skill Upgraded: Predator's Sense → Hunter's Foresight (Temporary)
Briefly predicts hostile movement within short range.
Duration: 10 seconds.
He stared at the text.
"I predicted him…"
Across the field, the rooftop player slowly stood up.
He had watched everything.
"That," the man said quietly, "was not normal."
Arman wiped blood from his lip.
"You're not normal either."
They stood facing each other.
Two remaining players besides them.
Then—
A sniper shot rang out.
The rooftop player reacted instantly, pulling Arman down.
The bullet passed where his head had been.
"Focus," the man snapped.
They located the sniper together.
Arman's vision sharpened again.
The sniper repositioned slightly.
He could feel it.
A faint prediction.
"Three seconds," Arman whispered.
"What?"
"He'll peek in three seconds."
The rooftop player stared at him.
Then counted internally.
One.
Two.
Three—
The sniper exposed himself.
The rooftop player fired instantly.
Elimination.
Remaining Players: 2
Silence.
Just the two of them now.
The circle shrank to its smallest point.
No more running.
No more third parties.
Just truth.
The rooftop player exhaled slowly.
"So… it's us."
Arman's body still ached.
Health low.
Ammo limited.
"You said you're higher level," Arman said quietly.
The man nodded once.
"This isn't my first match."
Cold realization hit.
"You've done this before."
"Yes."
"How?"
The man's expression darkened slightly.
"You'll learn."
The System chimed softly.
[Final Duel Initiated.]
The blue wall fully sealed the area.
The rooftop player raised his weapon.
"No hard feelings."
Arman steadied himself.
"You're holding back."
A faint smile.
"Not anymore."
He moved first.
Fast.
Faster than before.
Arman barely dodged.
Bullets tore through the air.
He activated Hunter's Foresight again—
Nothing.
Cooldown active.
He was on his own.
The rooftop player flanked expertly, controlling angles.
Arman retreated behind the last rock.
Think.
Think.
The man was stronger.
More experienced.
But—
He underestimated one thing.
Arman had nothing to lose.
The rooftop player advanced carefully.
Confident.
Too confident.
Arman suddenly dropped his remaining ammo clip intentionally.
It clattered loudly to the right.
The rooftop player's aim flicked instinctively toward the sound—
Half a second.
That's all Arman needed.
He lunged left instead.
Close range.
Point blank.
He didn't aim perfectly.
He didn't calculate.
He trusted instinct.
Three shots.
The rooftop player staggered.
Surprised.
Not angry.
Just surprised.
He fell to one knee.
"…Good," the man whispered.
Arman's finger trembled on the trigger.
The man looked up at him calmly.
"You passed."
"What?"
Before he could ask more—
The System's voice thundered.
Match Concluded.
Winner: ARMAN
Level 1 Cleared.
The rooftop player's body dissolved into light.
Arman stood alone in the shrinking circle.
Breathing heavily.
Alive.
The battlefield faded.
The island dissolved.
Light consumed everything.
He reappeared in the lobby.
But it was different now.
Empty.
Silent.
Only him.
A new screen appeared.
Congratulations.
You are among the top 3% of First-Level Survivors.
Candidate Status: Under Review.
"Candidate?" he whispered.
The System's voice was no longer flat.
It carried something else.
Curiosity.
[Performance exceeded baseline projections.]
"What happens to the others?"
[Eliminated participants are repurposed.]
His blood ran cold.
"Repurposed… how?"
Silence.
Then—
[That information unlocks at Master Tier.]
Another notification appeared.
Welcome to Level 2.
Difficulty Increased.
Opponents May Include Returning Survivors.
His eyes widened.
"Returning survivors?"
A faint glitch rippled across the screen.
For a fraction of a second, he saw something hidden.
A ranking board.
Names.
Levels far beyond 1.
Watching.
Betting.
Selecting.
Then it vanished.
Arman clenched his fists.
"This isn't just survival…"
[Correct.]
"This is selection."
The System did not deny it.
A new countdown began above him.
Next Match Begins: 60 seconds.
Arman looked at his reflection in the glass floor.
He didn't look like the pizza delivery boy anymore.
His eyes were sharper.
Colder.
Stronger.
"Fine," he said quietly.
"If this world wants a monster…"
He looked up at the glowing countdown.
"I'll become the last one standing."
Above him—
Somewhere beyond the lobby—
The shadowed observer watched.
And this time—
They were smiling.