Jin hovered beside the extinguished countdown, hands clasped behind his back, smiling down at the billions of mortals below.
Inside, he chuckled.
It's always entertaining… watching lowly beings struggle for their fucking lives.
He tilted his head slightly and spoke, his voice spreading across the endless white chamber without effort.
"Hello again."
The panic below intensified.
"Now… your first test will begin."
The words had barely left his mouth when chaos erupted among the humans. Fear rippled outward in waves. Some tried to shout questions.
"What kind of test—"
"What are we supposed to—"
But no sound came out.
Their mouths moved.
Their throats strained.
Nothing.
Jin had not granted them permission to speak.
Yet—
A clear voice rose from among the crowd.
"Do you mind if I ask a question?"
The words were steady.
Calm.
Unafraid.
People near the speaker flinched in shock.
Someone spoke?
Under Jin's presence?
Farther away, many didn't even hear it. But those nearby slowly turned their heads.
They saw him.
Yang Kai.
The same blood-soaked boy they had thought was a ghost.
The same corpse that had walked toward them minutes ago.
Some of them swallowed hard.
What the hell… so he's really not dead?
High above, Jin's smile faltered for the briefest instant.
His gaze locked onto Yang Kai.
Yang Kai looked back without hesitation.
Their eyes met.
For a moment, the rest of the world seemed to disappear.
Jin glanced at the dried bloodstains on the boy's clothes and smirked.
So this is the one who committed suicide… interesting. Why isn't he dead? Hm. Whatever.
Outwardly, his pleasant smile remained unchanged.
"Yes," Jin replied smoothly. "You may ask."
Billions of humans watched in stunned silence.
Ask what the test is, you idiot.
Ask how to survive.
Ask something useful.
Yang Kai lifted one finger and casually hooked it into his ear, as if bored.
"Who is on the top of the tower right now?"
The question echoed strangely in the white chamber.
Gasps erupted nearby.
Is this fucking idiot serious?
Anger flashed across many faces.
Of all things, that's what he asks?
Yang Kai remained calm.
Inside his mind, Xuan Yuan's thoughts moved steadily.
At the very top… I placed a Five Primordial Beast — a Tiger — to guard it. The final trial.
If that position has changed…
Then something is very wrong.
He felt it then.
Dozens.
Hundreds.
Thousands of hostile gazes burning into his back.
Am I imagining it… or do these people actually want to kill me?
Up above, Jin's eyes narrowed slightly.
That question…
It was not random curiosity.
It carried intent.
Should I answer? he wondered.
After a moment, he smiled wider.
"Boy, your question is a little troublesome."
A pause.
"But I did say you could ask."
He tapped his chin thoughtfully.
"If you pass the first test, I will personally tell you the answer."
Murmurs spread below.
Jin raised one finger.
"And this—"
His eyes gleamed.
"—is for you. Because you truly surprised me."
He snapped his fingers.
A sharp crack echoed like breaking glass.
Instantly, Yang Kai's entire body was enveloped in blue energy.
Gasps filled the air.
The light wrapped around him, humming softly.
For several seconds, it pulsed like a living thing.
Then it slowly faded.
When the glow disappeared, the blood was gone.
His clothes were spotless.
Torn fabric restored.
His body clean, uninjured.
As if the suicide had never happened.
Yang Kai looked down at himself briefly, flexing his fingers.
The crowd stared at him like he was something inhuman.
Jin watched from above, smiling faintly.
The first piece on the board had moved.
"Now," Jin said softly, eyes sweeping across the billions once more.
He snapped his fingers again.
The sound was soft—almost delicate—but it tore through reality like a blade through silk.
In an instant, Jin and the four billion humans inside the white room vanished.
Somewhere else, A forest stretched endlessly beneath an open sky—vast, ancient, and suffocating. The landmass was monstrous, easily thirty percent the size of Earth itself. Towering trees pierced the heavens, their trunks thick as skyscrapers, their canopies weaving together like a living ocean of green.
High above that forest, suspended in the sky, stood 726 million humans.
Only those between sixteen and twenty years old.
They didn't stand on clouds.
They stood on nothing.
An invisible platform held them aloft thousands of meters above the forest floor.
Above them floated Jin.
His robes drifted in an unfelt wind, his presence suffocating the sky itself.
Confusion spread first.
Then fear.
"Where are we?"
"Mom?! Mom?!"
"Dad?!"
"Why are there less people?"
"Hey—hey! I can't find my sister!"
Voices layered over one another in rising hysteria.
They looked left and right, searching for familiar faces, for family, for comfort. But they only saw strangers. Endless strangers.
One boy stepped forward unconsciously.
His foot didn't meet ground.
It hovered over empty sky.
He looked down.
Far, far below—the forest.
His face drained of blood.
"We're in the air—!"
Panic detonated like a bomb.
Screams ripped through the atmosphere. Some fell to their knees. Some grabbed the nearest person in terror. Others stood frozen, too shocked to even breathe.
But a few—
A very few—
Remained calm.
They were standing.
If they were standing, they wouldn't fall.
Right?
Then Jin's voice exploded across the sky.
"Silence!"
It wasn't loud.
It was absolute.
The world itself obeyed.
His eyes shifted in an instant—from calm black to a deep, predatory red. It wasn't mere anger. It was irritation. He had already given them too much time.
Every human froze.
Even those mid-scream found their throats sealed shut.
Even those trembling with fear locked into stillness.
Yang Kai stood at the very back.
Unlike the others, he wasn't searching for family.
He wasn't panicking.
He leaned slightly forward and looked down at the forest below.
His expression was calm. Too calm.
So this is the forest I told them to grow. Great… I can't wait to look inside.
There was no fear in his eyes.
Only anticipation.
Above them, Jin began to speak again.
His expression lost its playful smile.
It turned cold.
"The test of yours," he said evenly, "is to kill until the number of survivors comes down to two million."
The words fell like meteors.
"There are no rules. Use anything you want. Kill the person in front of you."
He paused.
The silence that followed was heavier than gravity.
Kill.
Two million survivors.
Out of 726 million.
Understanding dawned slowly.
Then horror followed.
"No—!"
"This is insane!"
"You can't do that!"
Some tried to move toward Jin.
Some tried to shout curses.
Their bodies froze mid-motion.
Paralyzed.
Jin lightly tapped his forehead.
"Ah… one more detail. Weapons are scattered across specific regions. You may want to find one before someone finds you."
A girl with short red hair stood quietly among the chaos. She wore a traditional kimono, crimson patterns woven across white silk. Her eyes were sharp, calculating.
This is a survival test. He wants to eliminate the weak.
She didn't scream.
She observed.
Not far from her, a hot-tempered boy with bright red hair gritted his teeth. Veins bulged along his neck as, somehow, he forced his body to twitch despite the pressure.
"You bastard!" he roared. "Come down here! I'll beat your ass!"
The defiance was admirable.
And useless.
Jin didn't even glance at him.
"So," Jin concluded calmly, "your test starts now."
He snapped his fingers.
Again.
Reality fractured.
And in the next instant—
All 726 million youths vanished.
Scattered.
Thrown across the colossal forest below.
The sky became empty.
The forest swallowed sound.
Towering trees clawed at the sky, their thick canopies choking out most of the sunlight. The air was humid, heavy with the scent of soil and crushed leaves. Somewhere in the distance, something howled.
The red-haired girl ran.
Her kimono, once elegant, was now torn from below the knees, the fabric ripped apart by her own hands the moment she arrived. The long trailing hem would have slowed her down. In a test like this, hesitation meant death.
She had snapped a sturdy wooden branch off a low tree the second she materialized. Rough. Splintered. About the length of a short spear.
Primitive.
But deadly enough.
Her breathing was controlled, steady, almost rhythmic. She moved like prey—but her eyes were those of a predator.
Suddenly—
A sharp whistle cut through the air.
Instinct screamed.
She halted mid-stride and threw her body backward.
A stone shot past her face, missing by inches before slamming into a tree trunk with a dull crack.
She landed lightly, knees bent, branch raised.
Her gaze snapped left.
She adjusted her grip on the branch as if it were a sword.
Calm. Dominant.
"Don't hide," she said coldly. "Come out. It's useless."
Leaves rustled.
Two boys stepped out from behind a thick tree trunk.
The one in front wore a smug grin. He was lean, sharp-eyed—the one who had thrown the stone. Behind him stood another boy clutching several rocks against his chest, clearly acting as supplier and support.
The front boy tilted his head slightly.
"Hey, pretty girl," he said casually. "What's your name?"
The red-haired girl stared at him without blinking.
"You attack me first," she replied flatly, "and now you're asking my name? Is this how you make friends?"
The boy chuckled and grabbed another stone from his companion. He tossed it lightly in his palm as if playing.
"My mistake. I'm sorry. I just wanted you to join my team."
Her eyes narrowed.
Nahh. He's not here to team up. What a loser. He can't even hide that smug face.
She didn't answer.
Instead—
She exploded forward.
No warning.
No hesitation.
Her feet crushed leaves as she shot toward him with full speed, branch leveled like a spear. Her target was clear.
His heart.
The smug boy's expression flickered for just a fraction of a second.
He reacted fast.
He hurled the stone straight at her face.
But she was already anticipating it.
She twisted her upper body and the stone brushed past her ear, grazing strands of red hair before disappearing into the forest.
With a sharp roar, she lunged.
The branch aimed straight for his chest.
The boy had expected that.
He stepped quickly to the right, shifting just enough that the sharpened end of the branch sliced through empty air where his heart had been a split second earlier.
He smirked.
But the girl smiled.
A small, cruel smile.
"Fucking idiot."
Her body rotated mid-motion.
The thrust toward the front boy had never been the true attack.
Using the momentum of her missed strike, she pivoted sharply toward the second boy—the one holding the stones.
His eyes widened.
He hadn't expected her to abandon the primary attacker.
He wasn't ready.
Before he could drop the rocks.
Before he could scream.
The wooden branch drove forward.
It punched into his throat with a sickening crunch.
The sharpened wood tore through flesh, ripped through windpipe, and burst out the back of his neck.
Blood sprayed across the leaves.
The stones fell from his hands one by one, thudding softly into the dirt.
His mouth opened, but only wet choking sounds escaped.
The girl yanked the branch free.
The boy collapsed, twitching, drowning in his own blood.
The forest went silent again.
Only one remained standing.
The smug boy.
And now—
His smile was gone.