The world was still drenched in a cold, silver-gray hue.
Lam Huy Trường scanned his surroundings.
Then he lifted his head, staring at the frozen blue moon suspended above.
A moment later—
something unseen touched it.
The moon trembled.
Thin ripples spread across its surface, then began to contract, like water being pulled back inward.
The air turned suffocatingly silent.
Then—
the moon compressed.
Shrinking. Smaller. Smaller—
until it vanished completely.
Lam Huy Trường blinked.
Color rushed back into the world.
And immediately—
a violent pain slammed into his abdomen.
As if someone had driven a full-force punch straight through his organs.
He buckled.
Invisible strings tightened around his limbs and neck, pulling him apart in all directions.
Pain tore through his nerves.
…This was the backlash of Time Slow?
He bent over, coughing violently.
The sounds around him warped—hoarse, distorted, impossible to distinguish.
His vision blurred—
not from the rain.
But from the agony crushing his mind.
Five seconds… or ten…
or longer.
Time lost all meaning.
Then finally—
the pain receded.
Like a tide pulling away from jagged rocks.
He gasped for air.
That feeling just now…
was no different from torture.
Just a little more—
and his mind might have completely collapsed.
He clenched his teeth, cursing under his breath.
Then he looked up.
A face appeared right in front of him.
Worried.
Panicked.
"Professor… are you… are you okay?"
The sound slowly returned.
That suffocated, distorted noise from before gradually cleared.
"Professor! Professor! Are you alright? Can you hear me?"
The voice came fast, urgent.
The screen on his watch flickered nonstop.
"I've checked all biometric indicators. All organs are functioning normally."
"Then why are there symptoms of respiratory distress and abnormal neural responses?"
"This could be a psychological disorder… or—"
"—a form of ancient curse, similar to those recorded in archaeological data."
Mrs AI kept talking, her voice growing increasingly unstable.
Lam Huy Trường closed his eyes and shook his head slightly.
Forcing himself to calm down.
When he opened them again—
Lyra Granger was still looking at him, her eyes filled with worry.
But beneath that…
there was unmistakable confusion.
She had clearly heard everything Mrs AI just said.
Lam Huy Trường took a deep breath.
Then braced himself and tried to stand.
His body was still trembling.
"Even a professor…"
He let out a crooked smile.
"…has to play lab rat for some damn 'free trials' sometimes."
A dry joke.
Even he didn't find it funny.
He would never use those 15 free seconds again.
Unless—
he was truly cornered.
But the moment he steadied himself—
a cold edge touched his neck.
Sharp.
Just a slight movement—
and it would slice open his throat.
A black blade.
Pressed right against his skin.
"Wait, Kai! He's a professor—he just saved us!"
Lyra's voice rang out, urgent.
But the boy in front of him didn't lower his weapon.
Instead—
the blade pressed even closer.
Rain poured over his soaked hair.
His gaze was ice-cold.
Inside Lam Huy Trường's head—
only one thought exploded.
Professor…
did you take out a loan or something?
Why the hell is someone holding a blade to my throat?!
Kai's gaze never left him.
"You—no…"
He paused for a split second, then corrected himself.
"…Professor."
"Why are you here on this battlefield?"
"This entire area has been sealed off."
"How did you get in?"
His voice was cold. Each word felt forced through clenched teeth.
"And that ability just now…"
His eyes narrowed.
"…what was it?"
"Was it—"
"…the same kind of power those monsters use?"
Every word carried weight.
As if something unspoken was being crushed behind it.
Pain.
Rage.
And… fear.
"You…"
Kai's jaw tightened.
"…are you really a professor?"
Lam Huy Trường looked straight at the face in front of him.
Young.
But stretched thin by things that shouldn't exist at that age.
The boy was holding something back.
Suppressing it…
to the point his body trembled.
Slowly, Lam Huy Trường raised both hands.
A gesture of surrender.
"Alright."
His voice was hoarse.
"I don't know why you're looking at me like you want to kill me."
He paused briefly.
His eyes flicked past Kai's shoulder.
"But I don't think we're in a safe position to interrogate each other right now."
He lifted his thumb, pointing behind him.
In the distance—
the cocoon.
It pulsed.
Rhythmic.
Chaotic.
Uneven.
Like a distorted heart on the verge of bursting.
Lam Huy Trường glanced at Lyra.
Then back at Kai.
His mind started digging through fragmented memories.
Kai…
That name—
familiar.
Too familiar.
But the harder he tried to recall—
the further it slipped away.
Like something buried beneath a layer of fog.
"Even so…"
Kai didn't let it go.
"…what is your purpose for coming here?"
He shouted over the pounding rain.
Lyra immediately grabbed his arm.
"Kai, stop—"
"Stay out of it, Lyra!"
He yanked his arm free.
"If I don't know who he is…"
"…then we're the ones in danger!"
The tension stretched tight as a wire.
Lam Huy Trường watched the scene—
and suddenly felt like laughing.
Prove he was a professor?
How was he supposed to do that?
He… wasn't one.
Just a transmigrator.
Standing inside someone else's body.
Carrying an identity that didn't belong to him.
In a situation like this—
he needed someone to speak for him.
Someone with enough authority.
But—
who?
Right then—
a voice spoke.
Calm.
Cold.
"I have infiltrated his device, Professor."
Lam Huy Trường froze.
"…What?"
"Target: Kai Mercer."
"Identity: low-level security trainee."
"Assessment: inexperienced, psychologically unstable."
"No need to explain anything to this subject."
Mrs AI spoke clearly.
Every word precise.
And loud.
Loud enough for Kai to hear.
The air froze.
A sharp glare shot straight at Lam Huy Trường.
Killing intent surged.
He went stiff.
Only one thought screamed inside his head—
Mrs AI…
please stop pouring oil on the fire…
I'm really going to cry at this rate.
Ever since he got dragged into this damn world—
nothing had ever stopped.
One thing after another.
Like a series of problems personally written by Death itself.
And every time—
there was only one question.
Choose how you die.
Lam Huy Trường clenched his teeth.
An indescribable frustration surged in his chest.
Who the hell said…
getting transmigrated into a game or a novel was fun?
Step forward.
He guaranteed—
he'd let that person experience it firsthand.
What he feared most—
wasn't death.
It was dying… unwillingly.
Dying without knowing why.
Dying without clarity.
Dying in grievance.
He took a deep breath.
Then spoke, slowly, word by word.
"I… have someone I need to save."
The air suddenly stalled.
Both Kai and Lyra—
froze.
"A girl…"
His voice lowered.
"…a pitiful one."
Memories that didn't belong to him—
suddenly surfaced.
Like recordings being rewound.
"Look, even trash can become treasure now."
Cold voices from the Institute echoed in his ears.
A girl—
treated like garbage.
"Show me the power a monster is supposed to have… or else—"
Zero's voice.
Cold.
Cruel.
Forced into a corner.
No way out.
And then—
that image appeared.
A girl standing amidst piles of monster corpses.
Two streams of red flowed down her face.
Not tears.
But blood.
Lam Huy Trường raised his hand.
Pointing straight at the violently twitching cocoon in the distance.
"The one I want to save…"
"…is inside that."
Lyra's eyes widened.
Her breath caught.
"Who…?"
Kai spoke immediately.
His voice sharp as a blade.
"That monster…?"
He repeated it.
Each word—
heavy.
The sword in his hand left Lam Huy Trường's throat.
But it didn't lower.
Instead—
it shifted.
Pointing straight at the cocoon.
"Save?"
A laugh escaped him.
Dry.
"You've lost your mind."
"Haha…"
"Figures… a mad professor."
Kai shook his head.
Lowering his weapon slightly.
But his eyes—
remained locked on Lam Huy Trường.
Distrustful.
Unrelenting.
Lam Huy Trường stood there.
Cold.
Not from the rain—
but from a familiar sensation crawling up his spine.
Like Death had just missed him once—
and was already preparing the next script.
Another way to kill him.
Another trap.
He hated that the most.
Like being marked.
Hunted until the very end.
Like that damn Grim Reaper in those absurd horror comedies—
the one holding a spoon instead of a scythe.
At the very least—
give him a moment to breathe.
He turned slightly.
About to let out a breath—
but at that exact moment—
a crimson screen burst into his vision.
Flashing.
Relentless.
Warning… Warning…
[Evolution Progress: 90%]
His heart dropped.
Once again—
the blade of Death…
was pressed against his throat.