Golden light illuminated the room. It was clear to everyone that there was something special about them.
On their heads, golden broken-shield symbols floated.
Their system screens appeared—this time glowing gold, with a notification icon flashing.
The message was clear:
[You have received 1 Golden Point].
Then, in an instant, they vanished again.
The crowd froze, intimidated, second-guessing themselves.
"Commander, should we attack?" a minion asked nervously.
"Wait a second. I want to think!" the Commander replied, scanning his group. Some were weak, others old. Useless to him. He knew it.
[Time left >1:34]
The other groups stood waiting. The Commander had shown the most courage, so they naturally looked to him.
He cleared his throat.
"Everyone—kill the weaklings in your groups!!" he screamed.
Gasps filled the hall.
Shock.
Disbelief.
But with the clock ticking, hesitation faded. This was survival. Thinking like civilized humans wouldn't save them now.
Chaos erupted.
The young cut down the old, friends turned on teammates. Blood sprayed, bodies fell in heaps, and the floor filled with corpses.
Heads rolled. Some dragged their killers down with them, ensuring mutual destruction. The numbers dropped with terrifying speed.
Jamie's group didn't move. They stood watching in horror as people were molded into ruthless killers before their eyes.
[Time over.]
The mechanical voice rang out.
[37 players left.]
[Congratulations. You've advanced to the next stage.]
The covered walls lifted, revealing once again the beautiful landscape outside.
For a few seconds, overwhelming silence consumed the hall.
Then it shattered—some players collapsed to their knees, sobbing, staring at the blood staining their hands. The pressure was gone, but the memory of what they had done pressed down heavier than ever.
Jamie froze. His mind spun.
"What in the hell did I find myself in?" he thought.
"Is this hell? What are we turning into?"
Tears stung his eyes as he looked at the sea of corpses.
"Are you okay, Jamie?" Alexander asked, noticing he was on the verge of breaking.
"I'm okay," Jamie forced out, swallowing his tears.
[Congratulations. You've advanced to the next stage.]
The mechanical voice repeated.
[You've all acquired power level display.]
System windows popped open, glowing brightly as each person's level appeared.
"Level 37. Not bad for a first game," someone muttered.
"What level are you?" Alexander asked Bray.
"52. You?"
"65!"
"What!? How is your level higher than mine?" Bray whined.
"Because I'm better!" Alexander smirked.
"How?"
"I'm stronger and smarter than you."
"So you're saying the system is corrupted?"
"Yes!!"
"Jamie, what's your level?" Bray inquired.
"49!" Jamie replied nervously, scratching the back of his head.
"I'll be at the fountain," the long-haired guy said, his spear vanishing into thin air.
[All players can now exit the hall to your group houses.]
[Get refreshed. You will be called upon to the next event in 4 hours.]
The massive doors opened with a dramatic creak.
"We should get going," Alexander said.
"Yeah," Bray agreed.
"What about him?" Jamie asked, pointing at the long-haired figure.
"Don't worry about me," the man said calmly.
"Let's go," Bray pushed.
The trio stepped outside into an empty urban city. Above, the sky was covered by a glowing blue veil.
On the street, rows of identical limos waited, each labeled with the different symbols. Robots stood by, opening the doors.
"Ours are at the front," Alexander pointed, moving forward.
"Uh, guys… your symbols are gone!" Jamie panicked.
"Yours too," Bray said, his eyes narrowing.
"Look around—everyone's symbols are gone!" Alexander commented.
He was right. The glowing marks had disappeared, though the system was still active.
Behind them, a loud voice echoed :
"Shit-ass broken shields!!" the Commander roared. Everyone turned to see him.
He dragged a finger across his neck, promising death.
Bray mouthed back,
"You too!!"
The Commander's face twisted with fury. His intentions were clear—he would come for them eventually.
"We'll leave this car for him," Alexander decided.
They climbed into their limo. The robot driver closed the doors, and the vehicle sped away, leaving behind the unoccupied car.
---
Silence filled the ride.
They all shared the same symbol. They had all received a golden point. The implication was obvious: they had all died the same way.
"I know you want to keep your deaths personal," Alexander finally broke the silence. His system screen glowed as he spoke.
"But I also know we all received a golden point."
No one replied.
"We're in this together, whether we like it or not."
"Who told you we aren't?" Bray said firmly.
"People hate us now. If we want to survive, we need each other."
The three exchanged nods.
"The only problem is with Jamie," Bray added.
"Ahh, what did I do!?" Jamie whined.
"I saw you in the fight. You intentionally didn't kill anyone."
Jamie laughed nervously.
"We're not killers either… but we don't have a choice if we plan to survive!!" Bray snapped.
"I know, it's just that…" Jamie lifted his hands, tears dripping down his palms.
"Aha?" Bray prompted, softening his voice.
"I can't let this world change me. I have to do it for them. Especially… I have to do it for myself."
Alexander noticed Jamie's unease and shifted the topic.
"The golden points are interesting."
"How?" Bray asked, catching the hint.
"They can be used to redeem special skills."
"No way. This is seriously like a video game!"
[We have arrived.]
The robot driver announced.
The limo doors opened.
"Woahh!!" the three gasped in unison.
Before them stood a long fence with a massive shield symbol at its center. Inside, green glass glittered across the property.
Two large houses rose behind the fence.
In the old world, only the rich lived like this. Now, in this twisted game, it was their turn.
They entered the premises, moving forward unto the house on the right. Near the door was a hand slot that functioned like a key.
Alexander pressed their hands against the scanner, and after a few beeps, the door opened, allowing them inside.
Three oversized yellow couches sat in a circle around a table stacked with food supplies. A white note peeked out from one package.
[Congratulations on your first win.]
To the right, a stairway of polished wood wound upward, bound in gold. Empty digital portraits glimmered on the wall, waiting for their new owners to claim them.
To the left, a wide opening revealed a lavish dining set. The kitchen walls matched the furniture, every detail screaming luxury.
"I'm going upstairs to see how many rooms we have," Alexander said, heading for the staircase.
"I'll start making something to eat," Bray added.
Jamie froze—not from fear, but something deeper.
This was the kind of house his parents always dreamed of.
A roof that didn't leak when it rained. Floors without holes. A spacious kitchen where his parents could dance. Food that would last for weeks, so no one had to go to bed hungry.
Even though poverty had shaped his life, his determination never faded. He had to survive. He had to go home. He had to tell his parents about the beautiful house he had seen.
"Mom, Dad… I'm coming home," he whispered.