The music never came back.
After the pulse, silence swallowed the party whole. People whispered, laughed nervously, checked their phones—no signal. Someone joked it was a blackout. Another said it was an earthquake drill. But Kikoshin knew better.
He gently let go of Miojo's hand.
"I'll be right back," he said, voice low.
She nodded, eyes wide, but didn't stop him.
He walked past the confused crowd, down the dim hallway, and out the front door of the building.
And froze.
The city wasn't the same.
Above Riverhollow, stretching from horizon to horizon, a massive barrier of violet energy pulsed like a living membrane. Cracks of electric blue lightning spiderwebbed across its surface, casting eerie shadows over the streets. Streetlights flickered. Cars sat abandoned. In the distance, a siren wailed—then cut off abruptly.
People spilled out of buildings, pointing, shouting, filming with dead phones. Some cried. Others laughed in disbelief. A man ran toward the edge of town, only to slam into an invisible wall and collapse, dazed.
Chaos. Panic. Denial.
But Kikoshin…
He just stared.
Because deep down, he'd known.
Since the call. Since the package. Since the device fused to his skin.
This is real.
He turned away from the crowd and walked toward an empty alley between two shuttered stores. The night air was cold, sharp. He leaned against the brick wall, heart pounding, and looked down at his wrist.
"Okay," he muttered. "If you're real… talk to me."
Nothing happened.
He waited.
Silence.
"Great. A broken toy that won't come off."
Frustrated, he tapped the screen.
Still dark.
Then—a soft hum.
A holographic interface bloomed in front of his eyes, invisible to anyone else. Translucent blue panels, glowing symbols, and a single notification blinking at the center:
[NEW MESSAGES: 3]
Kikoshin blinked.
"How do I… open them?"
As if hearing him, the panel expanded. Text scrolled into view.
[SYSTEM MESSAGE #1: GAME RULES]
Welcome, Captain. You are now part of Call Of Game.
1. The city of Riverhollow is sealed under a Containment Barrier. No one may enter or exit.
2. All citizens are classified as either Players or Pawns.
3. Only Players can interact with the System. Pawns must be rescued—or they will corrupt into Hostile Echos.
4. Captains must form a team of 10 Players before the Game begins.
5. Death in the Game = Death in Reality.
6. The Game ends at Level 100. Only one team may reach the Final Gate.
Violate these rules, and your team will be disqualified.
Disqualification = Conversion to Pawn.
Kikoshin read it twice.
Then a third time.
"A game?" he whispered. "This is a fucking game?"
His stomach twisted.
People were screaming in the streets. A woman sobbed over her child. And somewhere, a system was calling it a game.
He scrolled down.
[SYSTEM MESSAGE #2: CAPTAIN PRIVILEGES]
As a Captain, you have access to:
Team Management (Recruit, Promote, Dismiss)Inventory (Purchase/Use Items)Level Allocation (Distribute EXP to Team Members)Mission Log (Active/Completed Objectives)
Warning: Your team's survival depends on your decisions. Choose wisely.
Kikoshin exhaled sharply.
"Team? What team? I don't even know who the hell is a Player!"
Then he remembered.
"Check your inventory."
He hesitated.
"Open… inventory."
The screen shifted.
A simple grid appeared.
Three items glowed softly:
[Healing Tonic – Minor] – Restores 30 HP. Single use.[Iron Dagger – Common] – Damage: 5. Durability: 10/10.[Shrimp Plate – Consumable] – Restores 10 Stamina. Tastes like regret.
Kikoshin stared.
"A… shrimp plate?"
He reached out instinctively—but his hand passed through the hologram.
"How do I even use this?"
No answer.
Just the items, floating in digital space.
He pinched the bridge of his nose.
"This is insane. I have a healing potion, a cheap knife, and… seafood. What am I supposed to do? Stab a monster and then offer it shrimp?"
For the first time, fear clawed at his chest.
Not panic. Not hysteria.
The cold, quiet fear of someone who realizes they're in over their head.
He looked back toward the street.
Sumo was there, trying to calm a group of panicked kids.
Miojo stood near a lamppost, arms wrapped around herself, scanning the crowd like she was searching for him.
They're Pawns. Or… maybe Players?
He didn't know.
But the system had said: "Form your team."
Before he could decide what to do, a new message flashed:
[SYSTEM ALERT]
Time until Game Start: 1 hour, 58 minutes.
Captain E35: Your team is currently 0/10.
Failure to recruit 10 Players before Game Start will result in immediate disqualification.
Recommendation: Begin recruitment immediately.
Kikoshin's blood ran cold.
Zero out of ten.
He had less than two hours to find nine other people who'd been marked by the system—and convince them to follow him into a death game.
He turned and walked back toward the crowd, mind racing.
Sumo spotted him first.
"Kiko! Where the hell did you go?" He grabbed his shoulders, eyes wild. "Did you see that thing in the sky? It's like… like a force field from a sci-fi movie!"
Kikoshin studied his best friend's face.
No device on his wrist.
But… was that the only sign?
"Sumo," he said slowly. "Did you… get a weird package today? Or a call?"
Sumo frowned. "A call? Nah. Why?"
Before Kikoshin could answer, a voice cut in.
"You're acting weird, Sumo."
Rioyin stepped forward, arms crossed, eyes narrowed. He'd always competed with Kikoshin—since school tournaments, since who could hold their breath longest at the community pool.
"You disappeared right after the shake," Rioyin said. "And now you're asking about packages? What do you know?"
Kikoshin ignored him.
"Miojo," he called.
She hurried over, relief in her eyes.
"Are you okay?"
"Did you get anything strange today? A call? A package?"
She hesitated. Then shook her head. "No… but I saw you with that watch. It's… glowing."
Kikoshin glanced at his wrist.
The device pulsed faintly, almost like a heartbeat.
Then—a new sensation.
A soft click in his mind.
Like a lock turning.
Suddenly, he knew.
He looked at Sumo.
At Miojo.
At Rioyin.
And he saw it—a faint blue outline around each of them. Barely visible. But there.
Players.
All three were Players.
His heart hammered.
He had three.
He needed seven more.
But before he could speak, the device vibrated again.
[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION]
New Player detected: SAMUNE. Location: 200m east. Status: Unaffiliated.
Recommendation: Recruit immediately. High tactical potential.
Kikoshin's head snapped east.
Samune. Of course. If anyone would understand this madness, it was him.
"Stay here," he told the others. "Don't move. I'll be back."
"Like hell!" Rioyin snapped. "You're hiding something. We're all in this together, whether you like it or not."
Kikoshin met his gaze.
For the first time, he didn't back down.
"If you're really in this," he said quietly, "then follow me. But if you question me again when lives are on the line, I'll leave you behind."
Rioyin's jaw tightened. But he didn't argue.
Kikoshin turned and ran.
Samune was exactly where the system said he'd be—sitting on a bench in the small park, laptop open, fingers flying across the keys. Even now, even with the sky burning violet above him, he was analyzing.
"Samune," Kikoshin panted, skidding to a stop.
Samune didn't look up. "The electromagnetic field is artificial. Non-terrestrial origin. It's blocking all radio frequencies, GPS, even satellite imaging. We're in a bubble, Kikoshin. A perfect, isolated simulation."
Kikoshin held out his wrist.
"Look."
Samune finally looked. His eyes widened slightly.
"That's not a watch."
"No," Kikoshin said. "It's a leash. And I've been named Captain."
He quickly explained the rules, the inventory, the team requirement.
Samune listened in silence, then closed his laptop.
"Logical," he said. "If this is a game, it follows game theory. Risk, reward, elimination. The shrimp plate is clearly a stamina item—low tier, but useful early game. The dagger is your starter weapon. The tonic… is your lifeline."
Kikoshin blinked. "You believe me?"
"I believe the evidence," Samune said, standing. "And right now, you're the only variable with access to the system. I'm in."
Kikoshin exhaled in relief.
"Good. Because I need you to help me find the others."
As they walked back, Samune asked, "How many do we have?"
"Four. Including you."
"Six to go," Samune muttered. "We'll need fighters. Someone with medical knowledge. And fast."
Kikoshin thought of Miojo's steady hands, the way she bandaged his knee when they were kids.
"Maybe we already have her."
When they returned, the group had gathered near the building's entrance.
Talia waited for them, arms crossed, frustration on her face.
"Finally!" she said. "I was about to go look for you. My phone's dead, but… I felt something. Like a tingling on my wrist."
Kikoshin looked at her.
And there it was: the blue outline.
"Welcome to the team," he said.
[SYSTEM: PLAYER TALIA ADDED. TEAM: 5/10]
The device vibrated one last time:
[GAME START IN: 1 HOUR]
TEAM STATUS: 5/10
WARNING: The city will enter Isolation Phase. Prepare yourself, Captain.
Kikoshin looked at his small, broken group—his best friend, his secret admirer, his rival, the quiet genius, and the skeptical hacker.
None of them were heroes.
None of them were ready.
But they were all he had.
He took a deep breath.
"Alright," he said, voice steady. "Here's what we're going to do."
And for the first time, he sounded like a Captain.