"He's dead..." A player exclaimed, his voice lingering in the recesses of his throat. "I'm the one who killed him."
During this period, Harvey and Elizabeth subtly maneuvered their way out of the crowd. It was Harvey's attempt to reassure Elizabeth that it was merely a glitch—a sort of prank orchestrated by fellow players.
"As you should," A voice resonated, the name above his head obscured and a black faceless mask adorned his visage.
All eyes turned to him as if a deity strolled among them. He progressed, and a path cleared before him as he continued speaking. "We're trapped in this realm, all of us. But why? Can human lives truly be confined within a game?"
"What do you mean?" inquired a member of the crowd.
The faceless man halted, directing his attention to the questioner. Despite the mask concealing his features, an eerie sense of soul-piercing gaze emanated. "There's an exit."
"What?"
"Where is it?"
"Really?"
The chatter among the crowd intensified, but the man raising his hand hushed them. "Only a select few would be able to pass through said exit," he declared, resuming his stride.
"A select few?"
"Ten spots." The faceless man casually inserted his hands into his pockets and exited the crowd. "Ten people willing to do what it takes would join me, then they can make a choice."
While some members of the crowd dismissed his statement, others, desperate for any opportunity, aligned with the faceless man. What ensued could only be described as... manslaughter.
Perched upon the scythe's blade, the faceless man observed the unfolding terror below, reveling in the bloodbath that unfolded, a euphoric peak for him, where violence and death became an ecstatic experience.
Amidst the corpses of twenty thousand players, ten individuals approached him, blood-soaked and wielding shattered weapons, the tips of their blades still embedded in the organs of their victims.
"Congratulations on mustering the courage to secure your place," The faceless man clapped slowly. "However, the exit is not yet certain. You've proven yourselves on a minor scale; I still need further proof."
"I knew you were full of lies," One of the men scoffed, prompting the faceless man to turn towards him. "I've killed men and women, removed them from the world of the living. And this is what you hit me with? I haven't proven myself?"
"Is there a problem?" The faceless man halted his clapping, addressing the man named Arnold.
"Get me out of this wretched game now. I've proven myself, the XP from the people I killed has brought me to level sixty, my stats surpass yours."
"I'm with you, Arnold." Leia, another of the ten, walked toward him. "You have no power over us. You may have fed on our desperation, but not anymore. Get us out of here before we kill you."
The faceless man raised his hand, gently removing his mask to reveal his features. His blood-red ruby eyes were mesmerizing. His name, however, still obscured, hung above him. "Do you know what a manifest is?" He extended his hand.
Arnold and Leia fell to the ground, holding their necks as if being strangled. However, to onlookers, there was no visible reason for their struggle. "A manifest is the supreme form of a player's innate technique. But then again, what's the point of explaining to the dead? You two, hiding in the corner."
A squeak was heard as two people, a man and a woman emerged from a corner. Without skulls next to their heads, indicating they hadn't killed anyone.
"You wanted to be sure of my so-called exit, right? That's good. Pessimism is a necessary trait in a world like this," The man said. "What are your names?"
"Harlow..."
"Arla...."
"Fortunately for you, Harlow and Arla, we have two openings. Now, do you want to fill them? Prove your loyalty to me, and I'll grant you everything you'll ever desire and more."
"I want to leave this place; I have a daughter. She needs me." Arla fell to the ground, tears streaming down her cheeks.
"What about you?" The man looked at Harlow, his ruby-red eyes breathtaking.
"I...I want to leave..." Harlow muttered.
"Don't lie to yourself," The man jumped off his scythe, which vanished as he did. He walked toward Harlow, placing a hand on his shoulder. "What do you truly want?"
"I want power... unrivaled power, I want control." Harlow blurted out, and a devilish smile appeared on the man's face.
The man put his mask back on while bringing out masks resembling his own. He handed them to everyone except Harlow and Arla. "From now on, we are the 'Hunting Dogs. Our goal is to take control of the world, and for those who chose an exit, your desires will also be fulfilled."
Each Hunting Dog member donned their masks, obscuring their names like the faceless man. Harlow and Arla watched as the faceless man approached them silently, and though his face was concealed, they could almost feel his piercing gaze.
"What about us? Don't we get masks like the others?" Harlow asked.
"You don't have skulls next to your names. For now, you're both regular people, and I need you to do something for me... as regular people."
"What?" Arla asked, her desperation evident.
"There's a player named Hajun; you might know him... you might not—"
"Hajun the condemned? The legendary player who's gone unbeaten in the gaming space for several years?" Harlow spoke, oblivious to his fanboy tone.
"I'll need you to kill him," The faceless man ordered, his previously melancholic voice taking on a deep tone devoid of emotion.
"Why?" Arla spoke before realizing what she had asked, covering her mouth afterward.
"Don't worry, Arla, why isn't your concern. Do as I ask, and you'll see your daughter soon." The faceless man walked away, leaving both Harlow and Arla in contemplation. "And before I forget, he has someone with him. Kill her too, Arla... that's your target. Harlow can go after Hajun. Don't fail me."
"We won't," Harlow spoke as he left, the weight of what he was about to do settling on his mind. Looking at Arla, all he could see was a mother who had already made up her mind.
"Where do we find him?" Arla asked.
"Everyone was teleported to the same spot, and although about a hundred thousand players ran away after the fight started, if I take a guess... I think Hajun's in the labyrinth."
"Any reason why you think that?"
"No, but I'm sure he's skeptical of all this and he'll want to get stronger, so that's where we'll do it..." Harlow began walking in the direction of the labyrinth. "That's where we'll kill Hajun the condemned."