The forest clearing was swallowed by silence as the group stood frozen, their bodies stiff and breaths caught in their throats.
It wasn't just shock at Oliver's sudden appearance—it was the aura radiating off him, an invisible weight pressing down on their very souls.
It was cold and suffocating, like standing at the edge of a mass grave, the scent of death clinging to the air.
The man with the gun trembled violently.
His hands shook so badly that his weapon slipped from his grip, landing with a dull thud at his feet. Oliver's crimson gaze flicked toward him.
"You should leave," Oliver said, his tone neutral, almost casual. "And next time… get stronger. That way you won't end up in situations like this."
But the man didn't respond. His knees buckled as the sheer pressure of Oliver's presence overwhelmed him.
The moment his mind registered the impossible gap between them, his eyes rolled back, and he collapsed, unconscious before Oliver even finished speaking.
Oliver blinked, slightly surprised. "Seriously?" he muttered.
But it made sense. Since arriving in the Main World and diving headfirst into brutal trials, Oliver had barely interacted with anyone.
His entire existence had been hunting, resting, and preparing for more bloodshed.
The consequence was clear—his very presence had become drenched in the stench of death, and for those unused to it, it felt like staring into the abyss itself.
The weak-willed stood no chance.
The man with the gun was just the first casualty.
The summoner and the spear-wielder—Sandra and Stone—slowly recovered from their initial shock, though their faces were pale and their foreheads slick with cold sweat.
But Sandra's fear quickly twisted into anger, her eyes narrowing at the sight of Oliver's hand still pressing Henry's face into the dirt.
Her fear forgotten, she screamed, "Get your filthy hand off Henry!"
Oliver's lips curled into a faint smirk at her sudden bravery. "And if I don't?"
Her hands balled into fists, her voice trembling with fury. "Then I'll kill you!"
Oliver's brow lifted slightly. There was a particular venom in her tone, one that went deeper than simple anger. That level of hatred was personal.
It wasn't hard to figure out—she wasn't just angry for a teammate. She was angry for a lover.
Of course, Oliver had no idea that Stone was the unlucky third wheel in this twisted little love triangle.
Sandra's face twisted with rage. "Luna, kill him!"
With a low growl, her summoned beast leaped forward.
But Oliver didn't even blink.
With a blur of movement too fast for their eyes to follow, his dagger swept out, and the feline's head separated from its body in an instant.
Blood sprayed across the dirt as the beast collapsed in a lifeless heap—all while Oliver's other hand remained firmly on Henry's head.
Sandra screamed, blood trickling from the corner of her mouth. Her knees gave out, and she crumpled to the ground.
The bond between summoner and summon had been severed so violently that the backlash sent her body into shock.
Stone caught her before she fully hit the ground. "Sandra! Are you okay?!"
She barely registered him, her hands clutching her chest, her eyes wild with panic. "D-Do something! Help Henry!"
Then her eyes rolled back, and she passed out in Stone's arms.
Stone's face twisted in frustration—not just from worry, but from how effortlessly she dismissed him.
He'd been chasing after her for so long, always the loyal backup, the one who stepped in to help but never the one she saw.
But even that frustration was swallowed by fear as he looked up at Oliver, who was still calmly kneeling beside Henry, completely unbothered.
Oliver's gaze shifted to Stone. "Take another step, and you'll lose a leg."
The warning was flat, emotionless—but it carried a weight that made Stone's stomach churn.
But then he looked at Sandra, pale and trembling in his arms, and that foolish spark of bravery flickered to life. Gritting his teeth, Stone forced his legs to move—
The moment his foot touched the ground, he collapsed.
His scream tore through the clearing, raw and agonized.
His right leg was gone—severed cleanly at the knee.
Blood pooled beneath him, and he thrashed in blind pain before his body gave out and he fell unconscious beside Sandra.
Oliver stood slowly, brushing dirt off his knees. "Love really makes people do the stupidest things."
He glanced down at Henry, who had passed out the moment He appeared.
"Well… I guess my revenge is complete."
Without another word, Oliver turned and began walking back to the village, leaving behind three unconscious bodies—one crippled, one broken, and one missing a leg.
He didn't particularly care which of them was truly at fault.
He'd warned them. But they didn't listen. That was all there was to it.
He forgot about the gun wielder entirely.
*****
Back in the village.
As the final rays of sunlight dipped below the jagged treetops, the forest seemed to exhale, releasing the tension that had built throughout the trial.
In the village, weary Earthlings slumped against walls and huddled around makeshift fires, waiting for the system's final evaluation.
Then it came.
A resonance, not quite sound and not quite light, but something deeper — a reverberation that pulsed directly into their minds.
The system announcement unfolded like the unrolling of ancient parchment, each word soaked in authority, each syllable cutting through the fragile calm.
[System Announcement: First Trial Concluded]
"The allotted time has expired. All Earthlings within the trial zone have now been locked into the final evaluation phase. Individual performance will be assessed based on your efficiency, technique, contribution, and time taken to complete the trial objective."
"Be warned: only those who have achieved the minimum threshold for trial completion will be scored. Failure to meet this threshold will result in immediate disqualification from advancement."
"Additionally, a collective performance metric has been established — a combined score derived from the total actions of all participants within the village's boundary. Should this cumulative score fall on 50%, or below the trial will be deemed a collective failure."
"In such an event, all remaining trial monsters will be released into the Main World without restriction."
"All Earthlings can review their personal evaluations via their status screens."
The voice faded, but its weight hung heavy over the village and forest alike.
The implication settled like frost over their skin.
It wasn't enough to merely survive. It wasn't enough to complete the trial for oneself. The survival of the village — and perhaps the world itself — hinged on collective success.
Panic crept in like a silent fog. Whispers turned to frantic conversations, realization dawning across the weary faces of Earthlings who had thought endurance alone would be enough.
The bar was far higher than anyone had expected.
Oliver, perched on a rooftop at the edge of the village as He gazed down at the flickering fires and the anxious faces lit by their glow.
His expression was calm, composed — but inside, even he felt a flicker of unease.
His contribution was more than sufficient — his hunt count exceeded the required threshold for two people.
But there were thousands within the village boundary, and he could not have possibly covered the deficit for all of them.
Even if the system hadn't forcibly capped his hunt count, he couldn't be everywhere at once.
His fingers flexed unconsciously at his side. The system rarely introduced mechanics without reason, and this… this was a statement.
The collective fate of the Earthlings wasn't in the hands of a hero — it was in the hands of the weak, the scared, the selfish, and the incapable.
The air thickened as the system's final line echoed in his mind.
"Processing village-wide score..."
The system paused, the village falling into a breathless silence, as though the entire world stood on the edge of a blade —
Waiting for judgment to fall.