Allison's words echoed in Luke's mind. The idea that Bastion, Bartholow's fortress, might house one of the chanisms that could help everyone escape the tutorial felt both logical and unlikely at the sa ti. Yet, as he thought it over, the notion of one of the three chanisms being hidden within that fortress no longer seed out of place. In fact, it made perfect sense.
Allison crossed her arms, gaze sharp as a knife. She watched Luke process it. "If you really think about it... doesn't it make sense?"
Luke frowned. Sothing about the equation felt... wrong. "No," he muttered. "If he already activated one of the chanisms... why wouldn't he announce it? He could push everything forward. Speed the process up."
Allison let out a dry, humorless laugh. "Because you're thinking like soone who wants to leave the tutorial."
His eyes narrowed. "What do you an?"
"You. . Everyone else here—we want out. That's the whole point. Escape. Survival. But..." Her arms tightened across her chest. "What if Bartholow doesn't?"
Silence stretched between them. The idea hit harder than it should have. He'd always assud everyone wanted out. Desperately. Obsessively. But what if soone was... stalling?
Allison's voice sharpened. "Look at Angelica. Look at Bastion. You think it's a coincidence she runs a whole faction inside his territory? You think that happens without permission?"
Luke's jaw tightened. "You think she knows sothing."
"I think she knows a lot more than she lets on."
The pieces slid into place. If Bastion was hiding one of the chanisms... then Bartholow wasn't a key to escape.
He was the wall keeping them trapped.
***
By the next day, Luke was back at the edge of camp, pack heavy with scavenged supplies. The strap dug deep into his shoulder—a quiet reminder that he was getting stronger. Faster. Sharper.
He walked straight to Paul, the man in charge of logistics for the Haven. "Here. Think I got everything on that list."
Paul took the bag and peeked inside. His eyes widened. "Damn... this usually takes our teams weeks. You're ridiculously fast."
Luke shrugged, keeping it casual. "Got lucky." Too much attention was dangerous.
But Paul was still staring, visibly impressed.
Before Luke could change the subject, soone stepped quietly beside them—small, familiar. Silent as always.
Cecilia.
She signed rapidly.
Paul squinted, trying to follow. "Uh... sothing about spices? Oh—she says the herbs you brought are used to season food. She works in the kitchen. I think she's thanking you."
Cecilia offered a polite nod, a faint smile tugging at the corners of her lips.
Luke scratched the back of his neck. "R-right... no problem."
With the delivery done, he turned to leave—then paused. Soone was sitting quietly away from the crowd, hunched over a collection of glass vials, sorting them with steady hands.
Thiara. The healer.
Luke hesitated. His left shoulder ached—a sharp, grinding pain he'd been ignoring. Turns out Basic Blood Regeneration was great for cuts and surface wounds... but less effective for fractured bones. He didn't want to waste one of his last potions.
So he walked over. "Thiara."
She jolted, nearly knocking over a flask. "M-Mister Luke! You scared !"
Luke blinked. Not the first ti. His footsteps had beco... problematic. Another note for the ntal checklist: start making deliberate noise around camp.
"Sorry," he said.
Thiara pressed a hand to her chest, trying to steady her breath. "You... really don't make a sound when you move..."
"I know." His voice stayed even. "I need a quick heal. Left shoulder's wrecked. Not sure how the paynt works, but I'll compensate you after my next run."
Thiara shook her head, letting out a soft laugh. "Don't worry. I heal people for free."
Luke frowned. "For free?"
She nodded. "My class gives experience every ti I heal. So technically... the system pays . I prioritize Hunters and Explorers, though. The ones who keep the Haven running."
That made sense. If he wanted to keep pushing deeper into the Wild Zone... having a healer in his corner wasn't optional. It was survival.
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Thiara reached out, resting a hand on his shoulder. A faint green glow blood beneath her palm, soft but radiant. Warmth flooded the joint. The ache vanished, replaced by a soothing clarity that spread through his ribs, his spine, even the fatigue in his legs.
His breath escaped in a slow exhale. Relief. Pure and absolute.
The glow faded. Thiara pulled her hand back. "There. Good as new."
Luke rolled his shoulder. Smooth. No pain. Not even the dull soreness. "...Incredible." He checked his status. "Even my HP's back to full."
Thiara smiled, gentle but steady. "That's how healing magic works."
For a mont, Luke just stood there—genuinely impressed. Having soone like her in a world like this... felt like a luxury.
"You're valuable," he said quietly, eting her eyes.
But her expression shifted.
Softer now. Hesitant.
"I use a lot of mana to heal," she admitted quietly. "And I only really level my class through healing. I don't go into combat. I don't... have any offensive skills. So... I'm not that amazing."
Luke caught the tremor beneath her words.
"Couldn't you awaken combat skills eventually?" he asked. He'd seen it happen. Charlie developed a punching skill just from fighting barehanded.
Thiara looked away. "I could... but..." Her voice dropped. "I'm scared."
He didn't answer right away.
Yeah. He understood. More than anyone.
"...That makes sense," he said at last. "It's dangerous out there. But knowing soone like you's here—ready to patch us up... honestly, that gives more courage than you think."
Her eyes brightened, a small, genuine smile forming.
Luke returned it. "Anyway... I'm glad you're here. Next ti I get smashed into a wall, I know exactly where I'm running."
"It's my pleasure, Mister Luke," she said softly.
He turned to leave.
But he felt it. Her gaze. Still lingering.
"...Mister Luke," Thiara called, quieter now.
He paused. "Yeah?"
She glanced around. Subtle. Checking the crowd. Making sure no one was listening.
Then... she leaned in. Close enough for her breath to brush his ear.
"I saw it," she whispered. "That day... what was inside Mister Allison's bag."
Luke froze.
His brain flatlined.
She saw it?!
The... the won's clothes?!
A cold spike crawled down his spine.
But then—her hand touched his shoulder. Gentle. Warm.
And she smiled.
"It's okay, Mister Luke."
A beat.
"I don't judge gay couples."
His soul left his body.
WHAT?!
***
Days had passed. Luke and Princess Charlie carved their way through the Wild Zone. Relentless. Precise. Ruthless. Each fight fed into the next. Each kill pushed their levels higher.
And now... he was here.
Perched in the shadows. Motionless. Eyes sharp. A predator.
The bandit camp sprawled below, nestled against the ruins of an old mansion. Even after losing several n, they hadn't moved.
At first, it didn't add up. Until Luke caught pieces of their argunts. A fracture. One of them wanted to side with the Renegades. The others... didn't trust him. That's why they stayed.
Luke morized every patrol path, every guard rotation. Every lazy glance, every blind spot. The camp sat perfectly balanced—right at the border between the Safe Zone and the Wild Zone. Neutral ground. A limbo.
And the Midnight Wardens... didn't cross it.
Luke had noticed it days ago. The Wardens steered clear of this place—the ruins, the mansion, the forests around it. At first, he thought it was coincidence. Now he knew better.
Each Lord controlled territory. The Wardens avoided stepping into domains that weren't theirs.
His lips curled into sothing that wasn't quite a smile. It didn't change anything.
He opened his system. Fingers flew across the interface, dragging points into place.
Because tonight... none of them were walking out of here alive.
Na: Luke
Level: 6
Rank: F
Class: [Demonic Assassin (Lvl 11)]
Race: Half-Demon
Profession: —
Titles: [Dark Lord]
Bloodline: [Bloodline of the Dark Demon]
Health Points (HP): 510/510
Mana Points (MP): 288/330
Stamina: 231/250
Soul Fragnts: 21/1000
Stats:
Strength: 47
Agility: 55
Endurance: 25
Vitality: 51
Perception: 48
Intelligence: 33
Free Points: 4
He was stronger than he had ever been.
Not just in stats. In mindset.
He wasn't the sa person who arrived in this nightmare.
He eyed the floating system window and made his choice without hesitation.
Stats Updated:
Intelligence: 33 -> 37
Free Points: 4 -> 0
Mana Points (MP): 288/330 -> 328/370
Heat surged beneath his skin as mana pulsed through every nerve. The more mana he carried, the more life he could drain. Soday soon... he'd be able to rip the soul straight out of anything that bled.
His gaze locked onto the camp. Ti to begin the hunt.
The crossbowman stood watch near the forest's edge, perched atop the skeletal remains of an old outpost. Farther ahead, the others laughed around the fire, oblivious.
Then—
A whistle. Soft. Precise.
The sentry turned. Alert. Searching.
Too late.
A hand clamped over his mouth. Fingers dug into his jaw. He was yanked backward, vanishing into the dark behind the outpost—silent, weightless, like prey pulled underwater.
His back struck the dirt. Breath punched from his lungs. His vision spun—until sothing blocked the moonlight. A skeleton. Looming. Blade raised.
For a split second, the edge caught the moon. Then it fell. Fast. Surgical. Final.
Darkness swallowed him whole.
[Princess Charlie has slain a Human – Lvl 5 (Crossbowman – Lvl 10)]
*The [Death Knight] class of Princess Charlie has reached Level 8! (Class Bonus Points Acquired)*
[Princess Charlie has gained a new Class Skill]
Luke smirked from the shadows.
Charlie had leveled up. More free points. More strength. More speed. More lethality. But what truly mattered... was the new skill.
Then he noticed it. Level 8.
His eyes narrowed. His breathing slowed. It was almost like feeling sothing snap into place inside his mind. He looked at her. The smile sharpened.
"Now I can equip you with armor pieces."
The system interface popped up in front of him. As he dragged the items into Charlie's inventory, a thought settled in his mind.
Now I have an armored knight guarding .
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