DING!
[ Blade Skill: Time Loop Activated ]
[ Attempts Left: 2 ]
A blue glow burst across Alan's body, lighting the dark chamber. The blood that had spilled onto the ground slid back in a blur, rushing toward him in mere milliseconds and sealing itself into the wound on his chest.
His body rewound in full motion—lifting from the floor, reversing the fall—until he stood upright once again, as if the moment of death had never happened.
His body returned to its original state, as though he had never been cut at all. Yet his life point remained unchanged—it was still one.
The battle-axe wielder and the remaining female player noticed immediately. They stood on the opposite side of the arena, facing Alan and the spear user.
"I… I can't believe this," the battle-axe wielder stammered, his grip tightening around his weapon. "Is he a fucking monster? How did he…?"
The other woman, who had already been traumatized, became even worse when she witnessed Alan's resurrection. Her hands and legs trembled violently, as if she might collapse at any moment.
Meanwhile, the spear wielder continued struggling against the Emperor Fox, his spear barely holding back the creature's sickle. After a brief clash, the fox suddenly leapt back to its original stance, its glowing eyes fixed on the spear wielder—almost as if it were looking at him with pity.
"Ah," he sneered, "serves you right, fox. You'd better keep retreating like that, or else—"
His words never finished.
In a flash, Alan's blade sliced across his face, cutting clean through from the lip.
"What—?" the spear wielder muttered, but the rest of his sentence never came. Half of his face began to slide from his skull.
Time seemed to slow as his fading eyes shifted toward the figure behind him—the one who had done this.
His eyes widened in horror.
It was Alan, standing silently with his blade dripping with blood. His gaze was empty, void of any light. His face held no emotion.
Only a single whisper slipped from his lips.
"Survival… instinct."
"I must survive."
How… is he… alive? the spear wielder wondered, his thoughts fading as his vision blurred.
A moment later, his head slipped from his body and rolled onto the ground.
[ Two Players Down, Three More to Go ]
Blood poured endlessly from the severed head before it finally dropped to the ground, lying motionless. The spray splattered across Alan and even the Emperor Fox, staining the floor as the metallic scent of blood filled the chamber.
The battle-axe wielder swallowed hard, fear flickering in his eyes. What is he? he wondered. A psychopath?
Even the Emperor Fox seemed wary now, its eyes narrowing as it fixed its gaze on Alan.
At this point, Alan was completely unreadable, as if he had become an entirely different person.
But he hadn't changed.
This was the real him—his true state when his mind shifted into cold, tactical calculation.
Isee now, Alan thought, his eyes narrowing at the Emperor Fox as it prepared to move again.
His thoughts raced in seconds, sharp and precise, like a machine processing data.
The Emperor Fox attacks… then retreats for ten seconds before its next strike. With its speed and movement, its core must be located in the heart. It moves too fast for anyone to reach it.
A faint glint flashed in Alan's eyes.
Well… that makes no difference to me.
His gaze shifted downward to the battle-axe wielder, who was desperately holding his ground against the fox. Then his eyes moved to the remaining woman, who stood frozen, completely consumed by fear.
"Bingo," Alan murmured, a faint laugh slipping from his lips.
This… is my ace.
Alan rushed forward without hesitation, charging straight at the fox. He wielded a blade in his right hand while the other was clenched between his teeth.
Did he have a plan?
No—at least, it didn't look like it. He simply charged in.
The moment the fox noticed him, it reacted instantly. With a swift motion, it slashed the battle-axe wielder across the leg before leaping back. In a blur, it returned to its original position at the center of the ring.
"Just as I thought," Alan whispered, eyes locked on the fox. This is how it's programmed.
He dropped the blade from his teeth into his left hand. "Listen to me, both of you," he said, not turning to face them. "If you want to survive… if you want to win, you need to follow my lead."
The battle-axe wielder clutched his wounded leg, pain etched across his face. He looked at Alan with wide, fearful eyes. "Do you… do you have a plan, kid? I'll do anything… anything at all. Please… just don't kill me!" he begged desperately.
"What do you take me for? A murderer?" Alan replied, his voice icy. "If you want to address me… call me TheSaint."
"The Saint? What do you mean by that?" the battle-axe wielder asked, confusion and fear lacing his words. The woman, however, immediately turned toward Alan, as if seeking salvation. She bowed her head low.
"M-Mr. Saint… I'm all yours, sir. Do as you wish with me… I… I could even be your servant. Please… anything, as long as I survive."
A faint smile spread across Alan's face, though his eyes remained pale and cold, creating a chilling contrast that made the smile feel almost unnatural.
This… is more than I expected, he thought. I never imagined she'd be this submissive. It works… perfectly.
"Listen carefully, I'll say this only once," Alan said, his voice sharp as the two scrambled closer, desperate to catch his instructions.
"We need to form a formation, and we have less than five seconds to act."
He pointed at the battle-axe wielder.
"Your attacks will be most effective up front—you're the offensive force. Lead the strike."
Then he turned to the woman. "You stay behind me. Your job is to land the finishing blow—aim strictly for its chest."
Alan's gaze swept between them. "I'll be in the middle, creating a diversion between you two. Any problems?"
"No… no, sir. We'll follow your orders strictly, Mr. Saint," the woman said immediately, bowing her head. The battle-axe wielder, however, clenched his jaw, frustrated that he had to obey a kid just to survive. "We'll do… as you say, Mr. Saint," he muttered through gritted teeth.
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Back in his office, Michael Lee's eyes scanned the screens, tracking both the players who survived the second phase and those now trapped in the penalty phase. He leaned back in his leather chair with a slow, deliberate sigh.
His assistant hurried over, massaging his shoulders. She glanced at the screen showing Alan's battle and asked, "Alan is proving to be quite the opponent… even for you, sir. Why give him the Dual-Blade?"
Michael raised his hand and rubbed his eyes, then removed his glasses and set them down on the table beside him. He remained silent for a moment before speaking.
"I assigned distinct weapons before the game began… One-Handed Sword, Rapier, Two-Handed Sword, One-Handed Curved Sword or Scimitar, Dagger, Two-Handed Axe or Battle Axe, Polearm or Spear, Mace or Hammer, and Martial Arts as an additional skill," he explained.
"However, hidden weapons—like the Dual-Blade—were given as well. Only the lucky players could discover and obtain them. It's completely random. These hidden weapons unlock their full potential over time, before Ascension to the first floor."
He paused, then continued, "Check everything you can get from Alan Smith."
She immediately nodded, releasing his shoulders and picking up a tablet from the nearby table.
"Alan Smith," she began, "is a famous gamer, though he has never revealed his face on the Internet. He goes by the game nickname… Mr. Saint."
Michael looked at her with an unreadable expression as she continued, "He is a solo player in VRMMORPGs and other online games. Rumor has it he plays like a machine—showing no emotion at all. He has competed in over a thousand online games and has lost only once in his entire gaming career. He is ranked among the top ten players in the world. His name, Mr. Saint, comes from the way he plays—with a devouring, holy precision."
"Devouring, holy precision, you say…" Michael narrowed his eyes. "God help anyone who plays this game with him… they're… doomed."
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In the game, Alan had already readied himself and the others for his plan against the fox. "Are you ready, guys?" he asked.
Both nodded, just as the fox vanished from its stance and lunged straight at the woman with the dagger. Fear coiled tightly around her, leaving her frozen and defenseless—but before the fox could strike, Alan intercepted the attack, blocking it with precision. In the same motion, he swung his other blade into the fox's chest, slicing through its black cloak and revealing its exposed core.
It immediately retreated, just as Alan had anticipated. The battle-axe wielder then charged forward toward the Emperor Fox, which had returned to the center of the ring, patiently waiting for its ten-second cooldown to end. Alan followed closely, with the woman right behind him.
"Just as we planned!" Alan shouted. "Alright?"
"Right!" they both answered in unison.
"Ha ha, you're mine!" the battle-axe wielder shouted, raising his axe toward the fox's head.
But Michael had already interfered, shortening the fox's immobile stance to just two seconds.
"It's showtime," Michael said with a grin. "Alan… what will you do?"
The fox lifted its sickle in an instant. Alan noticed it before anyone else could react. This isn't good, he thought. I have only one option left. Just like in other online games… this isn't any different, except our lives are on the line. Now… it's time for my ace—my holy precision.
Before the battle-axe wielder could even react to the fox's strike, a blade shot through the air, piercing the fox's core. Blood spurted from its mouth.
The sickle scraped the stone floor as Alan's blade sliced true. The stench of scorched fur and iron hit his nose.
Thud! Thud!
"What—?" he gasped, turning to see Alan standing there, his blade slick with blood, dripping onto the floor from the wound he had just inflicted.
The woman froze instantly, speechless at what she had just witnessed. "No… not again," she whispered, collapsing to her knees as tears streamed down her face.
"Sorry, pal," Alan said, his expression wide but completely emotionless. "But I must win."
Michael's grin spread across the monitor. "Let's see how Mr. Saint handles a little chaos," he whispered, tapping a button that no one else could see.