Yuzu stood in his tower room, staring at the notification that had just appeared before him.
THE NEXT EXODUS WILL BEGIN IN 30 MINUTES. PREPARE YOURSELF.
Objective: Survive by any means necessary.
Requirement: Kill five participants to advance.
His heart thudded in his chest as the reality of the new task sank in. The words were chilling: "Kill five participants." Until now, everything had been about fighting monsters, training, and growing stronger—but this was different. This was about killing other people, other humans, just like him.
The screen flickered again, this time displaying a red countdown in the corner of his vision. He had 30 minutes to get ready. His mind raced as he tried to focus, to push down the rising panic. He'd fought beasts and blobs before, but this—this was murder.
World Chat:
Yuzu quickly typed into the chat, seeking some sort of explanation or reassurance from the others.
YuzuN: The next Exodus… is it really about killing people?
A few messages popped up almost instantly.
ElenaX: Yeah, it's a bloodbath. Welcome to the real Tower. There's no turning back now.
BladeMasterXX: It's survival of the fittest in this place. Better get used to it, kid.
Survivor999: I've already done two of these. The sooner you accept it, the better. Just don't think about it too much.
Yuzu's stomach twisted. He closed the chat and took a deep breath. This was it—there was no more running. He couldn't hide from the tower's cruel rules. He had to fight. He had to kill. And he had to survive.
The countdown continued ticking away, each second like a hammer pounding in his head. Twenty minutes left. Yuzu gathered his gear, strapping on his chest guard, tightening the straps on his new shoes, and grabbing the Crescent Luna Judge, its blue glow a small source of comfort. The Black Trench Coat felt heavier than usual, as if it carried the weight of what was to come.
Finally, the screen flashed once more.
EXODUS BEGINNING… NOW.
The world around him dissolved into blinding light.
Yuzu found himself in an open, desolate wasteland. The air was thick with tension, and the sky above was a dark, oppressive gray. The only sound was the soft wind that carried the scent of fear. His heart raced as he glanced around, spotting other figures materializing in the distance. There were at least a dozen of them—people just like him. All of them trapped in this hellish game.
Suddenly, the system voice echoed in his head, cold and detached.
Objective: Kill five people to survive. Time limit: 6 hours. Begin.
Yuzu's hands trembled as he gripped his sword. This was it. He had to do it. He had to fight—no, he had to kill. His breath came out shaky, and he felt the pressure mounting in his chest.
The first opponent spotted him from across the field. A tall, muscular man with a large axe in hand began sprinting toward him, eyes wide with fear and determination. Yuzu's instincts kicked in, and he raised his bow, drawing an arrow back. The Sword Mastery skill wasn't much help here, but his newfound precision allowed him to fire six arrows rapidly.
The arrows shot through the air like streaks of light. The first two missed, but the third found its mark, embedding itself deep into the man's leg. He screamed in pain, stumbling forward but not stopping. Yuzu fired again, this time hitting the man in the shoulder. The force of the arrow knocked him off balance, sending him crashing to the ground.
Yuzu's mind went blank for a moment. The man was down, vulnerable—but Yuzu couldn't move. His body refused to take the final step. He watched the man writhe in pain, clutching at his wounds, desperation in his eyes.
"I don't want to die!" the man screamed, but Yuzu had no choice. It was him or the man.
Gritting his teeth, Yuzu ran forward, sword raised. His vision narrowed, and the world seemed to blur around him. With a swift motion, he brought the Crescent Luna Judge down, slashing the man's throat. Blood sprayed across the dirt, and the man gurgled his last breath. Yuzu stood there, his chest heaving, as the reality of what he had just done hit him like a tidal wave.
His first kill.
His hands were shaking uncontrollably. His stomach churned, and for a moment, he thought he was going to be sick. But there was no time for remorse. The Exodus wasn't over.
The second kill came quicker, but no easier. A woman wielding a pair of daggers ambushed Yuzu from behind as he tried to regain his composure. She moved with speed and precision, her blades flashing toward his chest. Yuzu barely managed to parry the first strike, his sword vibrating with the force of the impact. The second dagger slashed across his arm, drawing blood.
Pain shot through him, but Yuzu gritted his teeth. His training partner had been stronger than this woman. He could do this. He blocked her next strike and used the Sword Mastery skill, countering with a swift, upward slash. His blade cut across her torso, leaving a deep gash.
The woman gasped, stumbling back as blood poured from the wound. Yuzu didn't hesitate this time. He lunged forward and drove his sword through her chest, ending her life swiftly.
But the blood wouldn't leave his mind. The image of her lifeless body, the terror in her eyes—it was seared into his memory.
By the time Yuzu reached his third kill, his mind had gone numb. He had to detach himself from the horror of it all. He fought like a machine, his body moving through the motions with mechanical precision. His sword sliced through flesh, arrows found their marks, and blood stained the ground beneath his feet.
He didn't want to think. He couldn't think.
The fourth kill was a boy no older than Yuzu, maybe 16. He was trembling, barely able to hold his weapon. Yuzu could see the fear in his eyes, the same fear he felt himself. But Yuzu didn't hesitate. He struck the boy down quickly, his heart shattering with every second.
One more.
Yuzu's body was aching, his muscles screaming for relief. His mind felt fractured, his soul breaking under the weight of what he had done. But the tower had no mercy. It didn't care about morality, or feelings, or humanity. It only demanded survival.
The fifth and final opponent was an older man, grizzled and battle-hardened. He fought with skill and experience, but Yuzu's speed was unmatched. After a tense exchange of blows, Yuzu saw his opening. With a single, fluid motion, he pierced the man's chest, driving his sword deep.
The man gasped, staring at Yuzu with a mixture of surprise and resignation. Blood spilled from his lips as he collapsed to the ground.
Yuzu stood there, breathing heavily. His body was battered and bruised, his hands coated in blood—both his own and that of the people he had killed. The psychological pressure weighed down on him like an anchor, dragging him deeper into a pit of despair.
Congratulations. You have survived the Exodus. You will be returned to your tower room in 10 seconds.
He closed his eyes, counting down the seconds, timing his death with the return to his room. Every muscle screamed for rest, every nerve ached, but there was no solace in victory. He had done what he had to do. He had survived.
But at what cost?