I'm not dying to scumbags like this today, Alan thought.
He quickly scrolled through his system, tapping the Dispatch button and summoning his dual blades. The weapons appeared in his hands with a faint shimmer.
I need to be careful with how I act from now on.
He briefly glanced behind him at Tuna. She stood frozen in fear, her face pale and her body trembling.
Having Tuna here in the middle of a fight could become a burden… I can't risk that.
Alan then lifted his gaze slightly and noticed an icon floating above one of the players' heads. It displayed the words [ A Rank ]. His eyes lowered to the ground, where he noticed a faint radiant light spreading across the floor—so subtle that it was easy to miss.
So that's how it works… pure death-game style, Alan realized.
When players engaged in combat on random streets, the area automatically turned into a battlefield. People would die anywhere—alleys, markets, roads—anywhere except their registered homes.
That means… I have to be extremely careful.
"Tuna," Alan finally said, his voice calm but firm. "Run. Get as far away from here as you can. I'll handle them."
"But—" she hesitated, clearly unwilling to leave him behind. She wasn't convinced Alan could survive against A-rank players alone. Yet at the same time, she knew that even if she stayed, there was nothing she could do to help.
"No buts," Alan cut her off sharply. "Go. Remember—you're the one they want."
He tightened his grip on his blades and gave a faint smile, though his expression still looked strangely uneven.
"You're good at betrayal, right?" he added quietly. "Now's the perfect time."
She slowly stepped back.
Betrayal? The word echoed in her mind, igniting a spark of anger within her. She lowered her head, clenching her fists.
"Hey, come over here, will you?" one of the players called out mockingly. "Let's make some good memories together."
Another licked the edge of his sword while staring at her with perverse eyes.
"Get going—now!" Alan shouted.
Without another second of hesitation, Tuna turned and ran.
Tears streamed down the corners of her eyes as her thoughts raced wildly.
I betrayed so many people just to reach the First Floor… she thought desperately. It would be so easy to leave him behind again and just run…
But something inside her refused.
Then why… why do I feel like I want to save him?
Her chest tightened as another memory surfaced.
I even killed my own father in the First Phase…
So… why, Alan?
She ran until she reached a large training district where players gathered to practice, exercise, and relax between battles.
Standing nearby were seven swordsmen alongside an older man who had just formed a guild. Breathless, Tuna rushed toward them, her face filled with confusion, fear, and regret.
"Hey there, young lady. How can we help you?" the tall elderly man asked calmly. A cigarette rested between his lips as he spoke.
He appeared to be the leader of the Scarlet Guild, holding a massive dual-hammer in his hands while the other swordsmen stood behind him.
She bent forward, hands resting on her knees as she struggled to catch her breath. She had run so far that her chest burned with exhaustion.
"Please… sir," she managed between breaths. "Please… my friend is in danger. They'll kill him. He's being surrounded by some thug players… they're stronger than he is. Please, save him—I beg you."
Tears welled in her eyes as she dropped to her knees.
The old man sighed, then suddenly smiled.
"Alright, young lady," he said calmly. "You can take us to him… after you tell us what's in it for us."
Her eyes widened as she lowered her head. She didn't fully understand why, but she felt a desperate urge to save Alan—strong enough to risk anything. "I'll join your guild," she said quickly. "I promise. Just… please help him."
The old man smiled faintly.
"Alright, boys," he announced to the group. "Looks like we're going on a hunt."
He lifted his massive double hammer and stepped closer to her.
"What's your name, young lady?" he asked.
"Tuna… Tuna Lane," she answered, still breathless with desperation.
At that moment, her profile appeared before him.
<< Profile Exchange >>
[ Player Name: Tuna Lane ]
[ Age: 21 ]
[ Weapon: Rapier ]
[ EXP: 120 ]
[ Rank: D ]
[ Level: 32 ]
[ LP: 100 ]
[ Mode: Skilled ]
The old man narrowed his eyes briefly as he read the information. After a moment, he let out a quiet sigh and relaxed his expression.
"Well then," he said, stepping forward and resting his hammer over his shoulder. "Lady Tuna… lead the way."
Relief finally overwhelmed her. Tears streamed down her face, falling to the ground one drop at a time as she lowered her head.
She quickly wiped her eyes, stood up, and led the group forward.
Don't die on me now, Alan, she prayed silently.
When they arrived at the isolated district, she froze.
Alan was standing there, completely still. His face remained unreadable, but his mouth was slightly open in shock. The bread and cream butter the NPC woman had given him were scattered across the ground.
And in front of him…
The three A-rank players lay motionless on the floor.
Dead.
Tuna rushed forward and wrapped her arms around Alan tightly.
"Are you hurt? Are there any serious injuries?" she asked anxiously.
"No serious injuries," Alan replied calmly. "Just a stab wound on my right hand. That's all. I'm fine."
But even as he spoke, his mind was still trying to process what had just happened after Tuna ran away.
The three A-rank players had attacked him at once. One of them managed to stab his hand when he tried to block their strike.
Then—everything changed.
In the middle of the fight, Alan had caught a brief glimpse of something: a figure with white, coiled hair and a curved blade flashing through the air.
The weapon looked almost like a scythe.
In an instant, the mysterious player cut through the A-rank fighters.
It was as if someone had hidden themselves using an ability while striking from the shadows.
Who was that just now? Alan wondered.
And… why did they save my life?
Alan remained lost in those thoughts until Tuna's voice snapped him back to reality.
"Alan… Alan!"
He blinked and looked at her.
"Jeez," she muttered, slightly frustrated. "Why do you zone out like that at a time like this?"
Nearby, the old man had been quietly studying Alan. After a few seconds, his eyes suddenly widened, and for a moment he seemed unable to find the right words.
"Gabriel…?" he said slowly. "Is that you? Why do you look so… young?"
He stepped closer, carefully examining Alan's face.
"Gabriel?" Alan repeated, confused. "I'm sorry, but my name isn't Gabriel."
"I'm sorry, my son," the old man said calmly. "It's just… you look familiar. Twenty years ago, I knew someone who looked like you—especially the long hair. Never mind."
He turned slightly, preparing to leave. "Since you were able to handle yourself in the end, we'll be on our way. Tuna, come to the training district by 9 PM. We'll hold our first guild meeting."
"But you didn't save him in the end," Tuna pointed out. "He was already fine when we got here."
"Yes, I know," the old man replied with a light laugh. "But you're joining either way. Consider it payment for bringing me this far. Ha ha."
With that, he walked away with the rest of his guild members.
"Arghh, that old geezer!" Tuna muttered in frustration.
She then turned back to Alan, who still looked slightly confused, as though trying to piece everything together.
"What's with that look, Alan?" she asked. "You don't seem too impressed about something."
Alan scratched the back of his head awkwardly, his face still lacking any real expression.
"I'm sorry… about what I said earlier," he said quietly. "I didn't mean to use the word betrayal. I was just trying to keep you away from danger."
Seeing Alan apologize so calmly made her take a small step back in awkwardness. She waved her hands nervously in the air.
"No—no, you don't have to apologize," she said quickly. "I… I understand what you were trying to do."
She absentmindedly coiled a strand of her red hair around her finger.
"Thank you… for standing up for me. I really appreciate it."
Alan gave a faint smile as he dismissed his blades from both his hands and held her's. "Come on," he said. "Let's go to a café. You must be hungry."
Later that evening, they arrived at a café and ordered food and drinks, with Alan paying for everything.
As they sat and ate, the place buzzed with other players. Some laughed and chatted as if nothing was wrong, while others bragged about their performances in the earlier phases of the Death Game, boasting about how well they had survived.
Alan watched the other players, his gaze lingering on them as they laughed and talked so casually. He couldn't understand how they could be so relaxed, knowing they were trapped in a death game that had only just begun.
Tuna noticed the distant look on his face.
"What's with that stare?" she asked.
Alan rubbed his eyes and face before looking back down at the table.
"It's nothing," he said quietly. "I'm just wondering why people can forget so easily that this is still a death game."
Tuna let out a small chuckle.
"Yeah, you're right," she replied. "But sometimes, people just accept their fate and choose to live how they want—whether it's in a game or in the real world. A person's life is still their life, right?"
Alan didn't respond immediately. He picked up a piece of steak with his fork and took a bite before speaking.
" You should join that old man's guild, "he said calmly." It'll be better for you."
"What?" she said, surprised. "What about you? Don't you want to join a guild or something?"
"I have my reasons," Alan replied, his voice carrying a quiet weight. "I killed some of my comrades during the Penalty Phase just to survive. If I join a guild… I might end up doing the same thing again. So I'll pass."
Tuna held his gaze, her expression soft but firm.
"You know, at the start of the game, everyone did terrible things just to stay alive," she said. "But look around—people are laughing, talking, acting normal… because they chose to leave the past behind."
She leaned back slightly.
"That's life."
"Hmm…" Alan sighed, thinking deeply about her words.
Leave it in the past…
"Well… if you ever need me, this is my home address," she said.
A screen appeared in front of Alan.
[ Home 199 ]
[ Call: 22-77 ]
"The one below is my contact," she added. "Looks like the system has a communication feature now—it makes things easier."
With that, she stood up and began walking toward the door.
"See ya."
------------------
Back in his home, Alan lay on his bed, staring up at the ceiling with both hands behind his head. His thoughts drifted—from the mysterious player with the scythe who had saved him, to Tuna's words about leaving the past behind.
He tried to let it go… but the guilt of the lives he had taken in the Penalty Phase refused to fade.
Then his eyes shifted toward the window.
A figure was standing there.
Alan immediately sat up, his gaze sharpening as he stared cautiously.
"Who's that…" he whispered.
Before he could react further, the man slowly raised a massive dual hammer.
DING!
[ Residence Safe Zone Disabled ]
Alan's eyes widened.
What…? How is that possible?
He disabled the Safe Zone…
What is he planning?