"Damn it! Who the hell is that?!"
The young man staggered to his feet, ears ringing from the explosion that had sent him sprawling. Smoke and debris filled the air, turning the warehouse into a maze of shadows and flame.
This wasn't supposed to happen. He'd been positioned by the far aisle, crouched low with his team scattered according to plan. They were supposed to wait for the perfect moment to strike. Instead, everything had gone to hell in one deafening blast.
His graphto watch pulsed against his wrist. He glanced down.
All four teammate icons were grayed out.
Dead. Respawned somewhere across the map, far from his position.
Which meant he was alone. Exposed. And whoever had triggered that explosion was still out there.
"Damn it," he muttered, sprinting toward a cluster of overturned crates. He needed cover. He needed time to think. He needed—
Footsteps.
Close.
Too close.
He spun around the corner and froze.
A figure stood there, silhouetted against the firelight. Something glinted in their hand. Before he could raise his weapon, before he could activate a defensive spell, pain exploded across his skull.
"Argh! What... what the hell is... ARGH! ARGH!"
The world tilted. Went red. Then black.
***
[You know there were better options, so why in the goddess' name did you pick a digger?]
Leo stood over the fallen student, breathing hard. Blood dripped from the pointed end of the tool in his hand. He wiped it against his pants, grimacing.
"Shut up and show me the mission tab."
The system interface materialized before his eyes, glowing faintly in the dim warehouse.
[MISSION IN PROGRESS:
LET THE GAME BEGIN.
OBJECTIVE: EARN 200 POINTS ON THE FIRST DAY [00:19:58:42].
PROGRESS: 50%
REWARD: A SHADOW SKILL.
FAILURE: ALL STATS SET TO NEGATIVE.]
"Tsk!" Leo scowled at the percentage. "I've killed two people and I'm only at a hundred points?!"
The math didn't add up. Either the system was screwing with him, or higher-ranked students were worth more. Either way, he needed three more kills before the timer ran out, and time was bleeding away fast.
He'd been just as confused as everyone else when the explosion went off. But confusion bred opportunity. The blast would flush out anyone hiding in the warehouse, either panicking them into the open or making them bold enough to hunt in the chaos.
That gave him an opening.
But first, he'd needed a weapon.
That had been the problem. Leo had no memories of this body, no muscle memory to draw from. He didn't know what weapons the original Leo had trained with, what fighting style he preferred, or what skills he possessed. The system had given him nothing.
He'd scrolled through the weapon options, weighing each one.
Swords? Without proper sword skills, he'd be dead in seconds against anyone competent.
Archery? Long-range was tempting, but his accuracy was nonexistent. He'd probably miss his first ten shots, and the moment someone closed the distance, he'd be defenseless.
Spears? Axes? Maces? Every option came with drawbacks that outweighed the benefits.
Then he'd found the tool section.
It was supposed to be filled with survival gear, utility items for students who wanted to focus on strategy over combat. But buried in the list, he'd spotted something promising.
Tools didn't count as weapons. Which meant he could select one AND still choose a proper weapon later if he survived long enough.
He'd narrowed it down to two choices: a shovel or a digger.
The shovel had a flat edge. Good for knocking people out, bad for killing them, especially when most students enhanced their bodies with mana. He'd need multiple hits to put someone down, and that meant too much time exposed.
The digger, though? Pointed end. Sharp. Could pierce flesh with enough force. One good strike to the skull or throat would drop someone instantly.
The problem was penetration. If his targets were using mana reinforcement, the digger might not punch through on the first hit.
Which meant his only option was ambush. Strike when they weren't expecting it. Hit vital points before they could defend themselves.
And shockingly, it had worked.
Twice now.
Leo glanced at the timer again. Just under twenty hours left. Three more kills. He could do this.
He had to.
The alternative was having all his stats inverted, which would make him weaker than a newborn. In a place like this, that was a death sentence.
He hefted the digger, tested its weight, and moved deeper into the smoke-filled warehouse.
Time to hunt.