Arven steps out of the Reclamation Hall, the door sliding shut behind him as the quiet, orderly streets of Gurdat Town stretch ahead. At a glance, it resembles a normal settlement, yet an artificial stillness lingers beneath everything.
Narrow streets branch between rows of buildings where small cafés, weapon shops, clothing stores, supply vendors, and jewelry stalls line the pathways in neat arrangement. Behind the counters, simulated residents move in steady, predictable patterns, their presence functional rather than alive.
The town itself is small, enclosed by high walls that cut off any real horizon. Above, the sky appears open, but Arven knows it is nothing more than a constructed illusion. An invisible barrier seals everything in, absolute and inescapable.
Arven walks without hesitation, following a path etched deep into memory, until the northern edge of town opens into a wide square. At its center stands a massive circular structure embedded into the ground, a portal ring lined with faint energy veins pulsing at slow intervals.
For now, it remains dormant. Arven glances at it only briefly before turning toward a small junk shop nearby.
"Long time no see, Domiar."
The man behind the counter looks up, mild surprise crossing his face. "Ooh, isn't it Arven. How long has it been? Six years? Seven? I thought you'd already died somewhere."
Arven exhales quietly. "Yeah. Died at the Sixth Trial Realm. And that fucking Rytir dragged me back to this place."
"He brought you back? That's strange."
"What, you don't know anything about it?"
"Nope." Domiar shrugs. "I'm built for limited tasks with limited knowledge. But as far as I know, dying outside the first trial realm should be the end. Bringing you back here… that's not normal."
Arven clicks his tongue. "Figures. He probably just enjoys playing with my life."
A brief silence lingers before he shifts topics.
"When was the last time the gate activated?"
"Twenty-nine days ago."
"So there's one day left."
Domiar nods. "If no one clears the trial, everyone gets pulled back tomorrow."
"Got it. Thanks."
"You too," Domiar replies. "Try not to cause too much trouble."
Arven raises a hand in acknowledgment without turning back. He pauses for a moment, gaze drifting toward the dormant portal.
"Trouble…" he mutters, the word carrying a faint trace of something older.
Back then, he used to chase trouble without thinking, stirring conflict simply to break the monotony. It was the only way to make this place feel less suffocating. Buy after everything, only one thing matters, catching up with his friends and getting out of this simulation world together as freemen.
For now, since the gate to the trial realm hasn't been activated, he can only wait.
"Sigh… guess I'll head back to the pod," he says under his breath. "Might as well rest."
***
The next day, while Arven sleeps, the northern portal activates. A shimmering light spreads across the square as the inmates still inside the Trial Realm are pulled back into Gurdat Town.
There are at least fifty-seven inmates stuck in this first stage of the trial, but only twenty-four appear within the portal circle. Some had already died and respawned earlier in their respective sleeping bad. Others just never cares about the trial at all, choosing to remain in the safety of this borring town.
As the returned inmates step out, murmurs spread among them.
"Look over there… Veloldas' group. Five of them again. No one died."
"Clean gear, sharp weapons. All above level fifteen."
"I heard they farm rare monsters. Greedy bastards."
"Good. Let them take the risks."
"Careful. If they catch you trailing them, you're done."
Then, a sudden shove breaks the flow.
"Move!"
The man turns, irritation rising, but the moment he sees who pushed him, his face pales.
"Ah… sorry…"
Others nearby step aside immediately, clearing a path.
It's Deniro and his group, moving through without slowing. Their presence alone is enough to silence the area.
At the back walks Victor, the Loser No. 316, currently level 8, the weakest in the group, yet the most reckless. He kills other inmates for amusement, even those who offer nothing in return.
A sack of loot hangs from his shoulder, swaying with each step. The others glare at him, remembering who paid for it.
"What are you looking at?" Victor snaps.
No one answers. Even inmates with higher level than him keep quiet. Crossing him means crossing Deniro's entire group.
"Pathetic," Victor mutters, spitting on the ground as he passes.
Deniro glances back. "Victor, remember you haven't unlocked your class since your last death. Don't make yourself a target. We can't always cover for you out there."
Victor waves him off with a grin. "Relax. I'll unlock my class next, and catch up to you soon enough. They'll see how fast I climb."
Deniro sighs, letting it go. Victor just moves ahead, eyes already set on the junk shop.
"Time to turn this into gold," he mutters. "That Soulpiercer dagger isn't buying itself."
***
With the return complete, the Trial Realm resets. The southern portal glows red, inactive until the next cycle.
The rest of the day passes quietly. Some inmates rest, others plan, and a few watch their competitors closely.
Inside Gurdat Town, life feels almost peaceful, no hunger, no pain, no urgency. But outside, in the Trial Realm, everything changes.
An hour before activation, thirty-four inmates from eight different parties have already gathered at the southern portal. Veloldas' group remains near the back as usual, choosing to leave last rather than risk unnecessary exposure.
Deniro steps forward instead, taking position at the front. "Listen up," he calls, his voice cutting cleanly through the noise. "No one enters for fifteen minutes after I go through. Anyone who tries… be ready to die."
No one objects. Even Veloldas' group stays silent, weighing the situation and finding no advantage in pushing back.
Moments later, a system chime echoes in their minds.
[Notification: Portal Gate will activate in 10 minutes.]
Years of experience and countless deaths have not dulled the sharp edge of anxiety that comes with facing the unknown beyond the portal. Faces harden, and the weight of what lies ahead settles heavily over everyone present.
But then, from the north, Arven appears, plain clothing, barefoot, and his expression carries no hint of stress.
"Oh… everyone's already here," he says casually.
All eyes turn, staring at the text hovering above his head.
[Lv. 1 — The Loser No. 1]
"Who is this guy?"
"No. 1? And he's still level 1?"
"How did he even end up here?"
Arven ignores them, eyes flicking instead to the portal as its color shifts from red to blue. "Oh, the portal's about to activate? Strange… why didn't the system notify me? Did the rules change?"
He steps in front of the portal without hesitation, standing there as if no one else exists. The moment the portal glows fully blue, he steps through.
Beyond it stretches a wide, open savanna, the grass swaying under a gentle wind. Glancing back, Gurdat Town has vanished from view.
Yet those remaining in town can see him standing there clearly, their expressions a mix of confusion and disbelief.
But Victor's expression shifts with amusement dancing across his features. He pulls out Soulpiercer, the dagger he bought just yesterday, and sprints toward the portal.
"Let's test this weapon on this guy?"
On the savanna side, Arven notices the glint of light behind him. Spinning around, he sees Victor leap from the portal, dagger aimed.
"Ambush…?"
Arven reacts, jumping back. But Victor covers the distance in a single bound and drives the blade toward his stomach.
Jlb!
Arven's face twists in shock and rage, a deep flush spreading across his features. He hadn't expected a level 8 inmate to attack him like this, completely ignoring the fact that he was just a level 1 warrior, unarmored and unarmed.
"You…? How dare you…?" he growls.
"What's the matter, old man?" Victor smirks, pressing the dagger further. "Just because you have the lowest inmate number here, you think I'll be afraid of you?"
Arven's face wrinkles, his gaze sharpens. "Fine, I'll show you fear."
Victor blinks, confused. But Arven simply grabs his face with one hand, tightening his grip.
Grrt!
Victor feels the pressure, and then…
"Argh… Aaaarrgh!!!"
He groans in pain, his grip on Soulpiercer loosening.