It was the morning of the day the competition was to be held.
The place looked drastically different from the previous day.
When Niraj had arrived earlier, the stadium had felt plain and almost lifeless.
Now, it resembled a festival ground.
Wooden stalls lined the outer areas, selling food and tools.
The air was filled with noise—laughter, shouting, and constant movement.
The crowd was enormous.
The stadium itself, massive and towering, was packed from the ground level to the highest tiers.
Its layered structure rose grandly, adorned with engravings, small fountains, and carefully maintained stonework.
Everything about it felt intentional, as if the place had been waiting for this moment.
Yet not all sections were loud.
One area stood out—silent.
Unlike the cheering spectators, the people gathered there spoke little.
These were the participants.
In front of them lay a vast pool of water.
Its surface was still, dark, and unreadable.
From where they stood, its depth couldn't be measured.
There were at least a thousand participants.
Many were human.Many were not.
Arjun and Niraj stood among them.
Arjun's face remained calm, but tension showed in his posture.
His shoulders were squared, his gaze fixed on the water ahead.
Niraj, on the other hand, appeared completely at ease.
A man stepped forward onto the edge of the platform facing the participants.
Behind him stretched nothing but endless water.
He began to speak.
"The rules of the competition are simple," he announced.
"Each of you carries a random number on your body. That number does not belong to you."
Murmurs spread.
"The number you must return with is the one assigned to you at registration. The number you need it depends on when you registered. The earlier you arrived, the fewer you need. The later you arrived, the more you must collect."
"You may fight, snatch, or trade," he continued. "How you obtain them is your choice."
The murmurs grew louder.
"You are not permitted to kill any species inside," he said firmly.
"Your primary objective is to retrieve valuables—gold, plants, bones, ruins, artifacts, or granths. Anything deemed valuable will be accepted."
He paused.
"Do not go below the second layer," he warned. "The depths beyond that are dangerous."
The silence that followed was heavier than the cheers outside the participant zone.
As the announcement ended, one thing became clear—
This didn't feel like a competition.
It felt like a retrieval mission.
And that made it far more dangerous.
Low voices began to spread among the participants.
"This sounds easy," someone whispered, "but deep water isn't forgiving."
"Breathing alone will be a problem," another muttered. "And the pressure…"
"I heard many never return," a third voice said quietly. "They don't announce it."
"And underwater," someone added, "we're not alone. Other species hunt there."
Arjun listened to the whispers without joining in.
The announcer's voice cut through the tension.
"Thirty seconds," he said. "Prepare to enter the water."
They jumped in—one line at a time, in the order they had registered.
After nearly ten minutes, the surface of the pool was empty.
Everyone was underwater.