Chapter 9: Survival


    Shadow''s command had been given, but no one dared to act. Killing might sound simple, but carrying it out was far more difficult.


    Shadow smiled as he turned to a burly man beside him. "What''s the matter? Can''t do it?"


    The man stared at Shadow in terror, sweat pouring down his face, but he remained silent.


    Shadow nodded with a smile, took the man''s dagger, and swiftly decapitated him. He then turned to the person opposite the dead man in Team Two and said, "You pass."


    Everyone in Team One was horrified. They had been told to kill their opponents, but no one had expected that failure to act would result in their own death. Now, hesitation was no longer an option. Killing was hard, but it was better than being killed.


    A small-framed man from Team One gripped his dagger and plunged it into the chest of the person opposite him. Blood gushed out as the victim collapsed, eyes wide with disbelief. The killer dropped the dagger, crouched down, and covered his head, trembling uncontrollably. Shadow gave him an approving smile.


    Once one person acted, others followed. The massacre began.


    Screams echoed as more and more people fell. Han Ming glanced at Wei''er, who stood not far away, her hands covering her eyes in fear. Opposite her was a burly man, who was nervously scanning his surroundings.


    Han Ming turned back to the fierce-looking man in front of him, gritted his teeth, and acted before his opponent could strike. The small man who had killed first was standing opposite Han Ming. Han Ming bent down, picked up the discarded dagger, and stabbed it into the neck of the man in front of him. The man clutched his bleeding throat, staring at Han Ming in shock. He couldn''t believe that someone from Team Two would dare to kill him.


    Han Ming wasn''t particularly fast or skilled—he was just an ordinary person. His success came from catching his opponent off guard. No one had expected a member of Team Two to fight back. Everyone had assumed Team Two was doomed.


    Without hesitation, Han Ming wiped the blood from his face and walked steadily toward Wei''er.


    The remaining survivors stared at Han Ming in stunned silence. How could he defy the rules?


    Han Ming reached Wei''er and, without a word, slashed the throat of the burly man opposite her. Blood sprayed across his face once more.


    The man collapsed.


    Everyone was shocked. What was happening? A member of Team Two had not only killed someone from Team One but had now killed two!


    Han Ming forced a smile at the stunned Wei''er and slowly returned to his original position.


    By now, more people had begun to act. Soon, only Han Ming and Wei''er remained standing in Team Two.


    Shadow looked at Han Ming with a smile and asked, "Explain yourself."


    Han Ming met Shadow''s gaze and said, "You never said Team Two couldn''t fight back, nor did you say we could only kill one person."


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    Han Ming had already figured out that these people didn''t care about rules. They wanted cold-blooded killers. As long as he exploited the loopholes and acted decisively, he believed the black-clad figures wouldn''t punish him.


    As expected, Shadow stared at Han Ming for a moment, then burst into laughter. "Good! Good! Good!" he exclaimed, clapping lightly. "All survivors pass the test. Tonight is over. You''ll receive food, clothes, and tokens shortly. The games officially begin tomorrow morning." With a final approving glance at Han Ming, Shadow turned and left.


    Han Ming stood still, gripping the dagger so tightly that his hand trembled. Shadow was right—the year of confinement had indeed numbed him. Even after killing for the first time, he felt little fear. But he knew that if he had been in his own world, he could never have acted so decisively. If it hadn''t been for Wei''er, his only friend here, he wouldn''t have been able to kill so resolutely.


    Wei''er, snapping out of her daze, rushed over and threw herself into Han Ming''s arms, sobbing softly. Han Ming gently stroked her hair and whispered, "It''s okay. Don''t be afraid." Those four words were enough to calm her trembling. She looked up at him, her eyes filled with trust and gratitude.


    Of the original group, only thirty survived. The other twenty-eight men and women eyed Han Ming warily. Today, he had taught them a lesson: the only rule was to eliminate opponents and survive.


    Han Ming led Wei''er to a tree, and they sat down side by side. Neither spoke. In such a situation, words felt inadequate. Tonight''s test was just the beginning. When dawn came, the real games would start, and they would face far greater challenges. They would have to hunt—to kill. Even if they succeeded in taking tokens, it wouldn''t guarantee their safety. At any moment, someone could be lurking in the shadows, waiting to strike. This was a brutal elimination game, and Han Ming had no idea how to navigate it. His survival today had been a fluke, but tomorrow, everything would be different. Physically, he was no match for the others—a scrawny, underdeveloped kid. Even the women, except for Wei''er, were stronger than him. The men were towering figures, many over two meters tall.


    But Han Ming knew one thing: he had to protect Wei''er. In this unfamiliar world, friendship was his anchor. He needed it to stave off loneliness, for he was an outsider.


    After a brief rest, several black-clad figures gathered the survivors and distributed food, clothes, weapons, and tokens.


    Han Ming''s heart sank when he saw the clothes—they were all white, making them easy targets in the upcoming games. Discarding the clothes wasn''t an option either. Going naked wouldn''t help, and without the insect-repellent herbs they hadn''t been given, the bugs alone could kill them. Han Ming had experienced the insects of this world during his time in the Savage Forest with Big Head, and he knew how deadly they could be.


    What chilled him even more was the tokens. They were blank—no numbers, no identifiers.


    This meant that even if he killed a teammate and took their token, no one would know whose it was. It bred distrust, as anyone could be carrying a teammate''s token. Cooperation was impossible.


    Han Ming finally understood: they wanted killers, not warriors. What kind of organization was the Dark Hall? Could he survive this game?


    He couldn''t see his future.


    The night dragged on. No one slept. Each person''s mind was in turmoil.


    At dawn, Shadow reappeared. "Ladies and gentlemen," he said, "take your weapons, your food, and your tokens. The food will sustain you for seven days. After that, you''re on your own. The weapons are your tools for hunting enemies. Each of you gets only one—lose it, and you''ll have to fight barehanded. Oh, and one more thing: Death Valley is called ''Death'' for a reason. There aren''t many beasts here, so if it comes down to it, we won''t judge you for eating your teammates. The tokens are your reason for existence. Each of you must return with at least two. Lose them, and you''ll be eliminated. Now, go."


    Han Ming suddenly realized why the valley felt so lifeless. The plants were withered, with little greenery in sight—just strange, twisted trees. Finding edible fruit seemed impossible. If they didn''t want to resort to cannibalism, they''d have to take not only tokens but also food from their enemies.


    After a moment of silence, Han Ming took Wei''er''s hand and was the first to step into the forest, disappearing from view. He trusted no one. The earlier they moved, the better their chances of survival. He had no intention of harming his teammates, but he couldn''t rule out the possibility of traps set by others to eliminate competition before the real hunt even began.


    The others, seeing Han Ming and Wei''er depart, slowly gathered their courage and entered the forest as well.


    The death games had begun.