CHAPTER 3: NEW PLAYERS
A glaring red alert filled Anon's phone screen, the urgent message shouting a warning of imminent danger. He felt his heart slam into his chest, its rhythm quickening with the rising dread.
Clamping a hand over his chest, Anon took several slow, steady breaths, forcing himself to regain composure. Panic wouldn't serve him here. Right now, this could spell life and death for him—he understood that survival depended on staying calm.
After a moment, when his pulse had somewhat steadied, he focused again on the message. Noticing an X button at the top-right corner of the screen, he pressed it without hesitation, and the image that appeared next stunned him.
'A map? Is this showing my location?'
A digital map had taken over the screen, resembling a GPS tracker pinpointing his exact position. At the top of the display, the words [Arena Zone Map] were bold and unmistakable. The bottom center showed a countdown timer for the shrinking safe zone, while a small arrow icon marked his current position. In the lower-right corner, a compass indicated his orientation and direction.
"The shrinking circle and a map… this really is like a Battle Royale game," Anon muttered to himself.
He wasn't new to the genre, after all. In games, dozens of players are often dropped into a chaotic free-for-all to see who can be the last one standing. It's always a brutal scramble, where survival depends on outsmarting and eliminating opponents until only one player remains, claiming the coveted Winner Winner Chicken Dinner or Number One Victory Royale.
"But this… this has a quest," he noted, unsettled. "And it just wants me to kill a single player—not be the last survivor of some death match."
The realization jolted him, sinking in that he was now part of a twisted, real-life Battle Royale—one orchestrated by a self-proclaimed god and presumably filled with other participants who'd also accepted that strange invitation.
"This is so… Tsk!" Anon clicked his tongue in frustration, struggling to keep his composure against the creeping dread.
With no other option, Anon focused intensely on his phone's screen, zooming out the Arena Zone Map to get a clearer picture of his location relative to the Safe Zone.
"Alright, it doesn't look too far," he murmured. "If I sprint, I can make it."
He didn't waste another second.
BANG!
The main door of the house swung open with a loud bang as Anon burst through, dashing across the empty neighborhood streets. His breaths came in fast, shallow gasps as he sprinted, pushing himself harder with each stride.
"Haa-haaa-haaa…" His chest heaved with the exertion, but he kept running.
Every few moments, he glanced down at the Arena Zone Map on his phone to check his progress. And then—while rounding a corner—
BUMP!
He slammed into someone. The impact was so sudden and forceful that they both went sprawling onto the pavement.
"What the—?" Anon pressed a hand to his forehead, dazed by the collision. Blinking through the brief haze, he looked up and saw the person he had crashed into.
A petite girl was sitting a few feet away, rubbing her head with a small hand and wincing in pain. She wore a flowing white dress adorned with delicate floral patterns and a pair of simple sandals. Her expression was twisted in discomfort as she muttered, "Ow… my head…"
Anon blinked, staring at her in disbelief. 'A… girl?'
Before Anon could fully process the situation, a new voice broke the silence.
"Tsk, tsk, tsk. Now look at what happened. Why'd you have to run off, little lady?" A man's voice dripped with a twisted mockery. "Let's just be friends, okay? It's been just the two of us for so long, so no need to be shy around me now. I'm the friendliest uncle you'll ever meet!"
The man grinned, exposing teeth in a way that felt wrong—sinister enough to make even grown adults wary and send children running away crying.
He glanced around, then his gaze landed on Anon, whom he had failed to notice at first. His expression shifted, and his eyes narrowed as he sized Anon up.
"Hold on—there's someone else here?" His tone grew sharper, his posture tense. "And just who are you, kid? What are you doing here?"
Anon met the man's gaze with an unwavering stare. He rose to his feet, dusted himself off, and planted his baseball bat firmly in his hands. "I could ask you the same thing. Why are you chasing after a scared girl like some sicko?"
The man's eyes flicked to the bat, a glint of interest flashing in them.
"Oh, you're armed, huh?" He gave a sly grin. "Listen up, young fella. There's no need for that. I'm not your enemy. We can all be friends here and enjoy ourselves."
Anon kept his grip tight, both his eyes and voice turning cold. "Based on everything I'm seeing, you look like a real threat to us."
The man chuckled, taking small, deliberate steps closer, hands casually tucked behind his back. "Playing hero, are we?"
"Back off," Anon barked, raising his bat, ready for any move.
The man's smirk grew. "Not gonna."
Meanwhile, the petite girl, still sprawled on the ground, shouted urgently, "Be careful! He's got a knife!"
In the next instant, the man lunged forward, eyes flashing with menace.
"You're done for, kid!"
The easy steps he'd taken before were gone; now, he closed the gap in a blink of an eye, his hand flashing out to reveal a knife in a swift, deadly arc.
"This'll teach you to listen and not mess with adults!"
Clang!
Acting purely on reflex, Anon raised his bat, gripping both ends tightly to block the knife's horizontal slash. He barely processed the impact, feeling the cold steel press against the bat's wood.
"What the—?"
Taking advantage of the man's momentary surprise, Anon snapped his foot forward, landing a solid kick to the man's shin.
"Argh!" The man stumbled, forced to take a knee as he grabbed at his leg in pain.
Anon didn't waste a second. With a surge of adrenaline, he raised his bat and swung down with all his strength.
Thwack!
The bat connected squarely with the man's head. His eyes rolled back, and he dropped forward, collapsing face-first onto the ground.
Anon staggered, breathing heavily as he took in the scene, heart pounding. "...Holy crap."
The encounter had ended as quickly as it had begun, leaving Anon standing in the sudden, unnerving quiet.
"...Are you okay?"
Anon heard the voice behind him and, after catching his breath, turned to face the girl he'd just saved.
"Yeah, I'm good. You?"
"I'm fine…" she replied, offering a faint smile of relief.
"Good… I'm Anon Roa. Nice to meet you, Miss…?"
"Brea Bragat. Thank you so much, Mister Roa, for saving me from that lunatic."
"Yeah, no problem. Actually, to be completely honest with you, I'm kinda glad right now. You two are the first people I've seen since I got here."
Just then—
Vrrrrtttt…
His phone buzzed in his pocket. Another message, he thought—but before he could pull it out—
BVROOOM!!!
The sky in the distant horizon erupted, shifting from a sickly yellow to a fierce, bloody red. Forks of lightning slashed across the clouds, and thunder cracked like an explosion, filling the air with a sound that sent a shiver down his spine. The whole sky looked like it was on the brink of collapse, an apocalyptic nightmare come to life.
"What the actual hell…" Anon's eyes widened in utter disbelief.
Snapping out of his shock, he quickly checked the new message on his phone, desperate for any clue about this escalating chaos.
[WARNING!!! THE ARENA ZONE MAP IS CURRENTLY SHRINKING. PLAYERS OUTSIDE OF THE SAFE ZONE ARE STRICTLY ADVISED TO GET WITHIN THE BOUNDS OF THE CIRCLE FAST. OTHERWISE, A FIERY DEATH CONSUMES YOU.]
[TIME REMAINING - 4:59]
[ALERT!!! YOU ARE CURRENTLY OUTSIDE OF THE SAFE ZONE! QUICKLY GET WITHIN THE CIRCLE!]
The timer counted down ominously on his screen, its seconds ticking away like a countdown to doom.
"What's going on?!"
Brea's panicked voice jolted Anon out of his focus on the phone. He looked at her, frowning as the urgency sank in.
"We gotta go. Now."
He pocketed his phone, turned away from the ominous crimson sky, and started running.
"Wait!" Brea grabbed his arm, pointing back at the unconscious man. "What about him? Shouldn't we help him?"
Anon cast a quick glance at the man sprawled on the ground, his face twisting with hesitation. But then he clenched his jaw, closing his eyes briefly before letting out a frustrated sigh.
"We don't have time. If we try to drag him, we'll end up dead too. Let's go."
Brea's face wavered, but after a beat, she nodded. "...Okay."
Together, they sprinted toward the Safe Zone Circle, following the map on Anon's phone. Fortunately, the distance didn't seem insurmountable—they could make it if they kept up their pace.
As they ran, they passed by a few others heading in the same direction. Everyone exchanged brief, wary glances but kept moving, each person focused solely on getting to safety without interference.
After several minutes, the man Anon had beaten up finally stirred, his consciousness returning in a wave of pulsing, throbbing pain. He groaned, clutching his temple, his face twisting as he muttered, "Damn brat…! Next time I see you, I'll make sure you suffer. And that stubborn girl too—I'll kill her slowly!"
As he finished his bitter rant, he finally took stock of his surroundings—and a creeping sense of dread washed over him.
"...Why is it so dark? And the air... it's thick, like it's pressing down on me."
It dawned on him that breathing had become labored, each breath shallow and stifling. Panic edged into his mind, sending a chill through his body despite the heavy, sweltering heat that clung to the air.
"Crap, crap! What's going on?!"
Looking up, his eyes widened in horror. The sky had turned into a deep red sea, streaked with bolts of lightning that snaked across the heavens, casting an eerie, hellish glow over everything. The scene was like a twisted vision from the end of the world.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
Explosions of thunder reverberated through his skull, rattling his teeth and striking him with an overwhelming wave of terror. He was paralyzed, consumed by pure, raw fear.
Then, without warning, the ground beneath him began to rumble. It started as a faint tremor but grew into a violent quake that made standing nearly impossible. His legs wobbled, and he stumbled, struggling to keep his balance as the earth seemed to shake apart beneath him.
"NO, NO, NO!!! WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?!"
His eyes, wide with terror, caught sight of it—an unending legion of fiery undead, surging forward in a relentless, blazing wave. Their bodies crackled with flames, their eyes empty yet ravenous. They were coming for him, ready to devour everything in their path without mercy.
Behold: Hell's Weeping Inferno. All who witness it—cry out and perish.
"FFFUUUUUUUUUUGGGGHHHH———!!!!!!"
The swarm overtook him in a savage frenzy. Bite. Pull. Rip. Tear. Break…
CONSUME.
"GGGRRRRAAAAAGGGGHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!"
Whether the scream came from the man or the undead legion itself was impossible to tell. What was certain, however, was that on this day, another life met its brutal end in the Tutorial Stage's unforgiving carnage.