"I murdered so many… all to survive. How selfish of me," Alan thought, guilt eating at him. I deserve to die.
Suddenly, a voice broke through his dark thoughts.
"Stay with me, kid!" A muscular man shouted, his strong hand reaching down. Without hesitation, the man grabbed Alan, pulling him from the edge of the hole. He dragged him back to safety, moving swiftly as he shielded Alan with his body, pushing forward without a second glance back.
"Why... why did you save me?" Alan asked, his voice barely a whisper, guilt draining the color from his face. He couldn't understand it.
"Why save someone who would've pushed you into the abyss?."
He wasn't relieved to be saved; he was ashamed. "I killed others to get this far… why save someone like me?" His words trembled, the weight of his actions crushing him even more.
The man didn't answer. He merely shoved other players aside with brutal force, sending them stumbling toward the open ground beneath, their screams echoing as they fell into the abyss. Without a glance back, he pressed forward, finally crossing through the Medieval Gate, leaving the chaos behind him.
The man dropped Alan to his knees, expecting at least some sign of relief or gratitude for making it through the gate. But Alan couldn't bring himself to look up.
"You know, kid," the man sighed, his voice steady but weary, "you can't blame yourself for everything that goes wrong. You did what you had to do to survive." He paused, as if choosing his words carefully. "It's called survival instinct. When your body tells you to fight, to do whatever it takes to live… you do it. You did what you had to do."
"In here, survival isn't about what's right, it's about what keeps you alive. The rest doesn't matter. "
Alan slowly lifted his gaze, his eyes filled with doubt. "Can you really call something like that… survival instinct?" he asked, his voice heavy with uncertainty, as if questioning the very nature of his actions.
DING!
[ You Have Earned +10EXP From Phase 1 ]
The translucent screen flashed back into view, appearing without warning.
<< SURVIVAL GAME: PHASE 2 >>
[ Ascend to the Standing Cross on the Mountain Top ]
[ 100 Players Are Allowed to Stand at the Cross ]
[ You Must Survive to Ascend to the 3rd Phase ]
The message spread like wildfire, instantly reaching all the remaining players.
"Dammit! There's more?" One player shouted, his voice shaking as he tripped over a rock. "Now we're really gonna die... Fuck!"
Alan tightened his grip around his dual blades, his knuckles whitening as his gaze locked onto the distant mountain. At its peak stood a massive cross, towering against the sky like a symbol of judgment.
He narrowed his eyes, calculating the distance.
"That's roughly ten kilometers from here… at most, two hours if we keep a steady pace," he muttered, analyzing the terrain between them and their only chance at survival.
"Wow, that's impressive, kid," the man said, raising a brow. "How'd you figure out how long it would take to get there?"
Alan kept his head lowered, still staring at the ground. He scratched the back of his head awkwardly.
"Oh… it's nothing, sir," he replied quietly. "Probably something from my geology class… estimating distance and terrain and stuff."
He didn't look proud. If anything, he looked like someone who didn't feel worthy of praise.
"You must be a smart one, then," the man said with a small smile. "My name's Mr. White… you can just call me White."
Alan finally straightened, taking in the calm confidence radiating from him. "Well… my name's Alan. Alan Smith."
But before a flicker of hope could settle, a panicked scream cut through the air.
"Everyone! Something's coming—full speed, right up ahead!"
Alan's eyes darted toward the slope leading up to the mountain—and froze.
A horde of wild dogs, each as large as a lion, was charging down the hill in an unstoppable wave.
"This… this isn't going to be easy," Mr. White groaned, hefting his massive axe onto his shoulder, muscles tensing as he prepared for the onslaught.
[ Game Begins In: 3 Seconds ]
[ 3 ]
Alan's hands tightened around his dual blades, knuckles white with anticipation.
[ 2 ]
His eyes tracked the charging beasts, studying every movement, every ripple in their formation.
[1 ]
This is it… Phase Two of survival, he thought, his heart pounding.
[ Let The Survival Game Begin ⚔️ ]
Players surged forward, blades raised, rushing to strike at the charging dogs. Some were torn apart instantly, swallowed by snapping jaws, while others managed to land lucky blows. Screams and roars erupted across the battlefield, mingling with the growls of the beasts, as everyone fought desperately to force their way up the mountain.
"Stay close to me," Mr. White shouted, charging toward the horde of dogs without hesitation.
Alan followed, fear gnawing at every step. Around him, chaos reigned—players torn apart in an instant, blood spraying across the ground, bodies disintegrating into nothing. Some struck down a beast only to be cut down by another before they could react.
Above it all, Michael Lee's voice boomed from the clouds, a chilling laugh that cut through the screams like ice.
"That bastard! He's watching us," Alan growled, his teeth grinding together with raw anger. "I… I'll kill him."
But before he could act on the fury, a massive dog lunged at him. Time seemed to freeze. His body refused to move, trapped in the grip of sheer terror.
In that frozen moment, all he could see was the inevitable—his own death flashing vividly before his eyes.
But just as the dog lunged, Mr. White swung his massive axe with precision, slicing the beast clean in half. It collapsed lifelessly to the ground right in front of Alan.
Alan's body shook violently, his mind reeling from what he had just witnessed. Not only had he come terrifyingly close to death—twice—but the pain it would have caused churned a deep, sickening disgust in his gut.
"Keep your focus straight, kid, or you'll die!" Mr. White warned, his axe cleaving through another beast without pause.
"Y-Yeah… I will," Alan replied, forcing himself to steady his breathing.
But then his eyes widened.
Something was wrong.
Right in front of him, the dog that had been split clean in half began to twitch. Its severed flesh dissolved into flickering particles of light—then pulled itself back together. Bone fused. Muscle stitched. Skin sealed.
Within seconds, the beast stood whole again. Alive.
"What?" Alan breathed. "It's… reforming? How is that even possible?"
But the beast didn't give him time to process it. It barked—almost like it was laughing at him—before lunging again.
This time, Alan reacted.
He raised one blade just in time, metal clashing against fang as the impact sent a shock through his arms. Using his other sword, he shifted his stance, searching for an opening—anything that could actually put the creature down for good.
Thanks to the sword practice classes he had taken at school, Alan's body moved on instinct. Footwork steady. Guard tight. Timing precise.
He pivoted to the side and drove his second blade upward, plunging it deep into the dog's belly. The beast howled, thrashing violently as dark blood sprayed across the grass.
It struggled… and struggled… until its movements began to slow.
But it didn't stop.
Even as its body glitched and flickered, it forced itself forward along the length of Alan's blade—inch by inch—until, with a savage snap, its jaws clamped down on his right leg.
"Ahhhh!" Alan screamed as searing pain shot through his leg. The dog's jaws clamped down harder, shaking violently as blood streamed down his calf.
[LP: 88 ]
[ LP: 80 ]
His vision blurred as the numbers dropped. Around him, other players shouted in panic and frustration.
"They're not dying!" someone yelled.
"We kill them and they just come back!"
Despair began creeping into every voice. The beasts weren't just strong—
They were relentless.
"These things are stubborn! Why won't they die?" Mr. White growled, cleaving through another beast. "Are they immortal or something?"
Then he heard Alan's scream.
Without hesitation, he charged over, grabbing the dog by the scruff before slamming it away with the blunt side of his massive axe, sending it crashing across the battlefield.
"You're badly injured," Mr. White said urgently, dropping to one knee. He tore off his handkerchief and wrapped it tightly around Alan's bleeding leg.
"Here—this will have to do for now."
He hoisted Alan up with surprising ease. "Lean on me. I'll keep you safe. Just don't pass out.... "
"But Alan immediately interrupted, "Thanks for the help—I really appreciate it. But if you could just protect me for a while… I'd appreciate that even more."
Mr. White gave him a sharp look, then smiled. "Absolutely, my friend. Whatever you're planning, kid—make it quick."
Alan gave a small nod.
He lowered himself onto the green grass despite the chaos around him and bowed his head, eyes closed in deep concentration. His twin blades rested at his sides, their edges stained red.
Those beasts aren't dying… no matter how many times we cut them down, he thought, forcing his breathing to steady. Think. Think.
No game creator would make enemies truly immortal. They're still NPCs… which means there has to be a mechanic. A flaw. A trigger.
His brows tightened.
What am I missing? Is there a weak point…? Is there something we're not seeing?
A woman wielding a rapier glanced at him as she slashed repeatedly at the undying dogs. What is he doing sitting there in the middle of a life-or-death battle? she thought, frustration tightening her jaw.
Meanwhile, Mr. White was being pushed to his limits, fending off multiple beasts at once. "Say something, kid… I… I can't… keep… this up much longer…" he panted, sweat and blood streaking his face.
Alan's eyes snapped open. He leapt to his feet, adrenaline surging. "I've got it, Mr. White! Aim for the core… the core!"
"The core?" Mr. White asked, his brow furrowing.
"Yes," Alan replied, urgency in his voice.
"The spot they protect the most. Listen up, everyone—aim for a blind spot, the place the beast instinctively guards."
The woman with the rapier narrowed her eyes, focusing intently. She lunged at a dog, driving her blade straight into its neck. The creature let out a final screech before collapsing—and in an instant, it turned into a glowing cube that ascended into the sky.
"So… he was right after all," she murmured, a mix of relief and disbelief in her voice.
Everyone paused, watching in awe as Alan's strategy worked flawlessly. Mr. White's eyes lit up with pride. "That's smart, boy… you're a genius—"
But before he could finish, a massive dog lunged in an instant, clamping its jaws around Mr. White's neck right in front of Alan.
Alan's smile vanished. Joy and relief twisted into sheer despair as he watched Mr. White's body collapse to the ground, lifeless, just steps away from him.
"No. No! White!"
Alan's knees buckled. Blood, sweat, and dust blurred his vision. He couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. Only rage. Only despair.