I remained on the ground, my head bowed. The dense mist rising over the safe zone was a cruel blessing; it hid the girl's drained body, erasing the carnage from my sight. Perhaps it was a relief. My retinas already carried too many deaths—a catalog of horrors that didn't need a single page more.
I felt a sudden weight on my shoulders. The boy had returned and was roughly covering me. I reacted with an instinctive flinch, tensing my muscles to push him away, but his words froze me in my tracks.
"It's not what you think," he blurted out, his voice sharp with pragmatism. "Your clothes are in tatters, and there are too many vultures lurking."
I looked down at the remains of my lab gown. The Scavenger's claw had turned it into trash, leaving my collarbone and part of my chest exposed. I felt disgust at the prying eyes searching for something to consume, but modesty was a luxury I could no longer afford. I didn't feel shame, only an infinite weariness.
"Thanks..." I whispered, giving up the struggle with the torn fabric.
I summoned my inventory with a quick gesture. Among the digital icons, the Premium Package shone with a promise of security. I activated it without hesitation. The heavy, blood-soaked cotton gown disappeared, replaced by a firm, technical weight against my skin.
The new outfit was pure engineering in ash gray and olive green. An aramid fiber vest protected my torso, its rough texture specifically designed to deflect fangs and claws. The ripstop trousers incorporated polymer plates in critical zones, as if the system knew exactly where monsters tended to bite.
Finally, the waxed leather boots anchored my steps to the floor with an unreal lightness. For the first time since this nightmare began, I didn't feel like I was dressed as a scientist in a world of madmen. I felt wrapped in armor.
The other players were quick to follow my lead. The glow of digital armor began to fill the room, replacing rags with combat gear.
"I kept my promise. I didn't lie; I am AKEMI_SOL," I said without waiting for a response. I took it for granted that our alliance was sealed. "Now, keep yours. You're going to help me. Your name, please."
"Kim Ha-jin," he replied after a sigh, his fingers sliding expertly across his screen.
I looked at him with a frown, confused by his honesty. "Why are you giving me your real name? We barely know each other..."
"And you're Ichika Takamori," he replied with a calmness that chilled my blood.
I froze. There was no way he could have known my last name. He was a stranger—a young Korean man I had never seen in my life. Noticing my stiffness, he quickly clarified in a disinterested tone.
"Level 4. You're at the top of the global rankings, Ichika. Everyone else is Level 1." He paused for a moment. "The system doesn't allow for discretion; those in the Top 10 will eventually be the target of everyone's attention."
He let out a sarcastic laugh that irritated me. "What a shitty system. So, how do you prefer I call you?"
"Takamori-san," I replied, crossing my arms. "There's no point in using an alias if you already know the truth. Can I call you Haji-kun?"
"Whatever you want. Now that we're a team by 'your decree,' what's the plan?"
I raised an eyebrow, holding his gaze in protest.
"Isn't that what you're looking for too?" I snapped, letting a trace of my old competitive arrogance leak into my voice. "You recognize my name and, from what I've seen, you're not exactly a rookie. You have skills, composure, and gear. Sticking together is the only logical way to increase our chances of getting out of here."
I glanced back out of the corner of my eye. Some players, seeing us equipped and conversing with a certain calmness, tried to approach, likely looking for protection or leadership. I wasn't in the mood to carry dead weight.
"Just you and me," I added, raising my voice enough for the others to hear. "I don't trust anyone else."
It was enough. Those stepping forward stopped in their tracks, retreating halfway with looks of defeat or resentment. I didn't care. At this point, empathy was a burden that could cost me my life.
Once we reclaimed our space, I took a moment to observe our surroundings in more detail. The area was a clinical white, absurdly clean and empty. It lacked any comfort; there were no seats, no water, and no shelter. It looked like a hospital waiting room designed by an artificial intelligence without a trace of humanity.
Suddenly, the air vibrated, and a system window—larger and redder than the previous ones—materialized in front of us.
[SYSTEM ANNOUNCEMENT]
"Congratulations to the survivors. You have proven that you possess the necessary will to meet the demands of this environment. We inform you that, at this moment, forced disconnection and external security protocols cannot be executed. The Asian server has been corrupted.
However, our technical team is working on it. Keep fighting to stay alive. We remind you that death in the game implies the death of your consciousness in real life.
Do not give up. We wish you the best of luck."
This time, I didn't feel the cold chill of terror running down my spine. It was rage. An incandescent fury that burned my throat. The way they said it—with that empty, corporate courtesy—as if our lives were just variables in a failed experiment they were trying to "fix."
"Bastards..." I spat the words, clenching my fists until my knuckles ached.
[TIME REMAINING: 02:00]
"You have two minutes to equip yourselves, form teams, or plan a strategy. Those who form groups will be transported together. Map spawning will be random.
Damage immunity is guaranteed for the first few seconds after deployment. Continue surviving."
"This doesn't say anything. No objectives, no real way to log out," Ha-jin commented, his voice heavy with exhausted cynicism. "The only thing they're making clear is that the Asian server is 'lost'."
He opened his terminal with a quick gesture, and instantly, a group request flickered on my screen.
"Survive their damn experiment... that's the only objective," I replied as I accepted the request.
I saw his name appear on my interface. Without giving it much thought, I edited it to "Haji-kun."
He stared at me, looking puzzled. I felt uncomfortable under his scrutiny and instinctively crossed my arms.
"What is it? Why are you looking at me like that?" I snapped.
"I was just thinking that, for someone Japanese, you're not very formal," he replied with a half-smile.
Seeing my expression change, he fell silent. My annoyance was obvious; I felt a slight blush creep into my cheeks—a mix of embarrassment and irritation.
"I'm angry, worried, and... sad," I admitted, letting my vulnerability show for just a second before burying it beneath my rage. "It's better to let the anger win, don't you think, Haji-kun?"
I looked at him with determination.
"Even you'll feel more at ease knowing your partner will dig her claws in instead of moping in a corner."
Ha-jin let out a soft laugh—a sound that, strangely, made my shoulders relax.
"Fair enough," he nodded. "You're right."
He typed a sequence into his screen, and a massive weapon materialized in his hands. It was a sniper rifle with a futuristic design and aggressive lines. It didn't seem to use conventional ammunition; instead, a tube of red energy pulsed with intensity in the magazine.
"The Premium package allows you to choose a specialized weapon," he explained, adjusting the thermal scope. "I'll cover long range."
I opened the terminal. The options scrolled past my eyes: Bastion, Zoarca, Entropic... classes for others. My history always leaned toward short range and direct combat. I didn't hesitate.
I chose the Vanguard class.
The Resonant Blade materialized in my hand. It was an unstable plasma blade, a crimson scar cutting through the gloom with a synthetic hum. Each spark warned of a power capable of disintegrating armor, though a mark on its interface reminded me of its limit: energy was finite. Furthermore, it bore a restrictive tag: [Unique and non-transferable].
"I knew you'd choose that," Ha-jin commented. "It suits you."
"You seem to know me too well," I replied, hiding the unease his familiarity caused me.
[TIME REMAINING: 20 SECONDS]
I shook my head to clear it. I locked away my heart and my fear; I would carry the weight of the dead later. Right now, all that mattered was being ready.
The countdown reached zero.
A white flash blinded me. When my vision returned, the clinical cleanliness of the room had been transformed into an infinite desert. The heat hit me like a wall, but the tactical suit reacted immediately, regulating my skin temperature. However, the sun wasn't the only danger.
[ALERT: INFECTIOUS AIR QUALITY] [RECOMMENDATION: USE FILTRATION MASK]
I summoned the second-to-last icon from my inventory. A small, advanced black mask appeared in my hands and adhered to my face with surgical precision. Haji-kun did the same.
The landscape was desolate—a tomb of sand and toxic air. He nodded, and without a word, we began walking into the unknown.