Deep inside the forest, where the trees grew thicker and the light barely pierced through the canopy, Yang Kai walked alone.
Behind him, the evidence of his path was clear.
Ten.
Maybe twelve bodies.
Some were nailed grotesquely into tree trunks by sheer force, ribs crushed inward, limbs twisted unnaturally. Others lay flat on the forest floor, faces pale and swollen, fingernails clawed with dirt—as if they had died gasping for air, throats crushed or windpipes sealed.
The scent of blood lingered heavily in the humid air.
Yang Kai's expression didn't change.
Calm.
Cold.
His eyes were steady, clear, almost tranquil—as if he were strolling through an ordinary park instead of a battlefield made of teenagers tearing each other apart.
He tilted his head slightly and looked up.
A blue screen hovered high in the sky, massive and unavoidable.
726,110,320
430,218,442
The numbers were falling in real time.
Four hundred thirty million left.
He exhaled quietly.
More than two hundred million dead already.
"So fast…"
There was no shock in his voice. Only observation.
He resumed walking.
He knew his limits. Bare hands were enough to kill unarmed opponents. Surprise, precision, suffocation—those were tools too.
But if someone found a sword… an axe… anything with reach and weight…
I'm fucked.
He needed a weapon.
Or he needed to make sure the person holding it died before they could use it properly.
The forest grew louder as he moved forward.
At first it was faint—
Then clearer.
A scream.
Raw. Agonized.
Then shouting.
Cursing.
"Fuck you!"
"Give it to me!"
"Move!"
The sounds of bodies colliding. Wood cracking. Flesh hitting flesh.
Yang Kai's interest sharpened.
Curiosity pulled him forward.
He stepped through a line of thick shrubs and emerged into a clearing.
The sight was chaos.
Dozens of youths were fighting in brutal clusters. Some grappled on the ground, punching wildly. Others smashed rocks into skulls. A few lay motionless between them, already discarded like trash.
Blood stained the grass.
And in the center of it all—
Above a small pond—
An axe floated in midair.
Suspended. Rotating slowly.
Its blade gleamed faintly in the filtered sunlight.
Yang Kai's eyes narrowed.
So that's it.
They weren't fighting randomly.
They were fighting for that.
A real weapon.
A killing advantage.
Suddenly—
A high school girl broke free from the edge of the chaos.
She sprinted toward the pond, her face twisted, eyes wide and bloodshot. Dirt smeared across her cheeks. Her uniform was torn at the sleeves.
She looked unhinged.
Desperate.
She jumped.
Her body launched upward from the ground, arm fully extended toward the floating axe.
Her fingers were inches away.
For a split second, it looked like she would grab it.
Then—
A sharp crack echoed.
A stone flew from somewhere within the fighting mass.
It struck her squarely in the side of the head.
The sound was sickening.
Her expression froze mid-madness.
Her body lost control mid-air.
She dropped like a puppet with its strings cut.
Splash.
She hit the pond hard, disappearing beneath the surface.
For a moment, the water rippled gently.
Then red began to bloom.
Slowly at first.
Then thicker.
The pond's surface darkened as blood spread outward from where she had fallen.
The axe continued to float above it.
Unmoved.
Unaffected.
As if mocking them all.
The fighting didn't stop there.
Yang Kai remained half-hidden behind a dense cluster of trees, branches and shadow concealing his figure so well that even a careful glance would miss him.
His gaze was fixed on the pond.
More precisely—
On the direction from which that stone had been thrown.
It hadn't come from the chaotic group fighting near the water.
It had come from deeper within the forest.
From concealment.
From someone patient.
His eyes narrowed slightly.
So someone else thought of staying hidden and letting idiots fight for the weapon.
He had assumed most would charge blindly toward visible power.
This surprised him.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
A faint smile ghosted across his face.
The forest wasn't filled with only desperate fools.
That meant the real hunt would be more complicated.
And far more fun.
---
Elsewhere in the forest—
The red-haired girl in the torn kimono stood breathing heavily.
Sweat slid from her chin and dripped onto the forest floor. Her chest rose and fell in controlled but strained rhythm. Dirt clung to her legs. Blood—hers and others'—stained the fabric around her waist.
She held the broken tree branch like a katana, posture firm despite exhaustion.
Her arms trembled faintly.
Her body carried multiple bruises. Darkening marks spread across her ribs and shoulders where fists had slammed into her. One side of her lip was split. A shallow cut ran across her collarbone.
He's more difficult to fight… and I'm exhausted. That last bastard who kept throwing stones was a pain. He was good at dodging.
She tightened her grip.
Across from her stood the same hot-tempered boy who had screamed at Jin in the sky.
Bright red hair.
Sharp jaw.
Now covered in cuts.
Blood trickled from several open gashes along his arms and torso. His knuckles were raw and torn. He stood in a boxer's stance, fists raised, shifting his weight despite visible fatigue.
He was exhausted.
But he hadn't fallen.
Neither had she.
For several long seconds, they simply watched each other.
The forest around them felt unnaturally still.
Finally, the boy spoke.
"What's your name…" he asked between breaths. "…you're a skilled fighter."
His tone held rage.
And respect.
She didn't relax her guard.
"Shouldn't you tell your name before asking others?"
He exhaled sharply, tension easing just slightly.
"Jhon Leothan. From the U.S."
She straightened a little, though the branch never lowered fully.
"Horikita Haichi. From Japan."
The wind moved gently between them.
Neither attacked.
Jhon stepped backward slowly toward a nearby tree. His muscles screamed in protest as he leaned against the trunk and slid down into a seated position.
"I'm exhausted," he muttered. "Can we rest a bit?"
Horikita studied him carefully.
His breathing was heavy but genuine.
If he attacks while I sit, I'll kill him.
She moved to a tree opposite him—far enough that he couldn't lunge without warning—and lowered herself to the ground, back against rough bark.
The branch remained across her lap.
Silence lingered.
Jhon tilted his head slightly.
He was hot-tempered.
But not stupid.
"Hor… ah—Haichi," he corrected awkwardly. "Do you mind if I ask you something?"
Her eyes stayed half-closed, but her voice remained sharp.
"No. But if it's something bad, I'll tear you apart. And you can call me by my first name."
A faint smirk tugged at his lips despite the blood on his face.
"Alright, Horikita."
His expression turned serious.
"Have you joined any group yet?"
She opened her eyes fully.
"No."
He nodded once.
"Then join mine."
She didn't respond immediately.
He continued.
"I'm a skilled fighter. You've seen that. But I can't fight someone with a real weapon. And I can't handle large groups alone."
His jaw tightened.
"This isn't about pride anymore. It's about surviving this fucked up test."
The forest felt heavier at those words.
Kill until only two million remain.
Out of hundreds of millions.
Trust was dangerous.
But isolation was worse.
Horikita's gaze studied him carefully.
His wounds were real.
His exhaustion was real.
And despite his temper, he had stepped back instead of pressing the fight.
She didn't answer yet.
But she didn't refuse either.
Back in the shadows near the pond, Yang Kai stood motionless.
He wasn't hiding poorly.
He wasn't hiding well.
He was simply… there.
Waiting.
Watching.
The floating axe above the pond continued its slow rotation. Around the clearing, bodies shifted in tension. Some pretended to fight. Some truly fought. Others stayed hidden behind thick trunks and dense bushes, calculating timing.
Yang Kai did nothing.
He waited for someone to move first.
Suddenly—
Leaves rustled overhead.
A figure dropped from a tree branch above him, legs extended forward like twin battering rams aimed directly at Yang Kai's head.
Foolish kid.
The attacker smiled mid-air, confident in the ambush. From above, from behind—no one should react in time.
But before his heels could even descend—
Yang Kai turned his head.
Slowly.
Precisely.
Their eyes met.
And Yang Kai smiled.
Not surprised.
Not alarmed.
A devilish smile.
For a split second, doubt stabbed through the attacker's confidence.
Did I ambush him… or did I just walk into a trap?
That hesitation cost him everything.
Yang Kai's fist moved.
Straight.
Brutal.
By the time the attacker's legs were still mid-air, Yang Kai's punch had already connected with his face.
The crack echoed.
The airborne body reversed direction violently, slamming into the tree trunk behind with a heavy thud.
He slid down, landing in a seated position against the bark.
Blood spilled from his mouth.
He was conscious.
Barely.
Yang Kai stepped forward.
Calm.
Measured.
He bent slightly and grabbed the boy by the collar with his left hand, lifting him effortlessly off the ground.
The attacker's feet dangled uselessly.
Yang Kai's voice dropped low, dark, almost amused.
"You think a sneak attack will save you from powerful people?"
His eyes were cold.
"You're wrong."
He leaned closer.
"This tower and this test were created to cultivate the strongest. Weaklings like you are just ruining the fun."
Then his right fist began to move.
Thud.
The first punch crushed into the boy's face.
Thud.
The second shattered whatever composure he had left.
Thud.
Teeth flew.
Blood sprayed.
Thud.
Again.
Again.
Again.
Until there was no resistance left.
When Yang Kai finally released his grip, the body dropped lifelessly to the ground. The face was unrecognizable—swollen, crushed, blood streaming freely.
Yang Kai looked down at his own hand.
It was soaked red.
He shook it once.
Drops scattered onto leaves and dirt.
Some blood remained on his knuckles.
Without hesitation, he turned and walked toward the pond.
His expression was calm.
But his eyes—
They were a deep, terrifying red.
And somehow, despite dozens of eyes hidden around the clearing—
No one stopped him.
He walked past small skirmishes, past hidden observers clutching stones and sticks, past trembling figures waiting for the right moment to rush the axe.
No one noticed him clearly until he was already close.
Those hiding in the forest to ambush the future axe holder suddenly stiffened.
When did he get there?
A sharp voice broke the tension.
A girl stepped out from behind a tree, pointing directly at him.
"Hey, bastard!" she shouted. "How dare you ignore all of us and get close to the pond?"
Yang Kai didn't even glance at her.
He crouched at the water's edge.
Dipped his bloody hands into the pond.
The surface rippled red again.
What a pain… how did I end up in this situation?
He rubbed his fingers together, watching diluted blood swirl away.
Behind him, the girl's anger flared hotter.
She turned toward the others hidden nearby.
"Hey! We kill this bastard first," she yelled. "Then we fight for the weapon. Or he'll fucking take it!"
The forest shifted.
Bodies emerged from concealment.
Those locked in fierce combat halted mid-strike and turned on him, fury blazing in their eyes.
Eyes locked onto Yang Kai.