Alice, with a visibly reluctant expression, slowly let her gaze wander over each mber of our group, as if searching for so disagreent, a flaw, any sign of hesitation.
But one by one, everyone just nodded silently, confirming Noa’s words... or rather, mine. For a brief mont, she closed her eyes, took a deep breath, as if gathering courage.
A forced, sowhat awkward half-smile appeared on her face before she took the first step. Without saying a word, Alice walked toward my male body—already holding a dagger, the blade reflecting the faint light around like a silent warning of what was coming next.
As soon as she took the dagger from my hand, she spun on her heel with cold determination and moved firmly toward the ostriches. For a brief mont, a heavy silence settled in the air, as if the very environnt was holding its breath, anticipating what was about to happen.
Then, with a quick, precise movent, she raised the ard hand high above her head. For a second, the blade glead under the dull light of the place... and in the next instant, it ca down brutally toward the monster’s neck, slicing through the air with a sharp, dry sound.
A brief guttural scream escaped from the creature’s throat as Alice plunged the knife forcefully into its neck. The sound was hoarse, muffled, like it was gasping for air. Still, the desperate wail lasted only a few seconds before the monster’s body shuddered one last ti and finally went completely still. Content originally cos from novel·fire·net
I watched closely as Alice, still panting, pulled the blade back, thick blood dripping from the blade onto the floor. She sighed deeply, as if needing to gather strength, and then, without hesitation, stood up with her eyes fixed on the next threat, advancing with the sa relentless determination.
Alice repeated the sa process seven more tis, ticulously finishing off each of the monsters she had paralyzed. Her face remained expressionless, as if it were just another routine task.
When she finished, she let out a brief sigh, like soone who’s completed a tiring but necessary job. Then, with steady steps and without hesitation, Alice stood and walked toward , holding out the dagger still dripping fresh blood.
By the way, this wasn’t the first ti she’d done this—her movents were quick, precise, almost chanical, like her body already knew what to do before she even thought about it.
“Good job” Oliver’s voice sounded as he approached, his firm steps lightly echoing on the floor.
Hearing his words, Alice gave a subtle, almost shy smile, but it was impossible to ignore the hint of exhaustion still marked on her face. The slight dark circles under her eyes and the sowhat lost look revealed her recent weariness.
“Thanks... honestly” she took a deep breath before continuing, trying to mask her nervousness with a tone of forced lightness: “I still can’t say I’m used to all this part of... well, you know” Her eyes shifted for a mont, as if searching for an easier way to explain, but in the end, she just shrugged, leaving the sentence hanging.
Oliver just smiled understandingly, as if he knew exactly how we felt. My gaze briefly shifted to Alice as her words echoed in the air. From the expression on her face and the resigned tone in her voice, it was clear to what she really ant... Deep down, she was also talking about the fact that we were killing so easily... and even with a scary kind of happiness.
It was impossible to ignore the moral weight of it, but at the sa ti... we all knew the uncomfortable truth: if we didn’t kill, we’d be the ones who’d die. There was no room for hesitation or guilt here. Besides... there was the issue of our levels. To grow, to evolve... it was kill or be left behind. And in the end... Alice understood that as well as I did.
To be honest, except for , everyone else was focused on leveling up. Not that I was neglecting myself or getting complacent, far from it. In the end, at least from my point of view, leveling up alone would be a waste of ti and completely inefficient.
After all, the real purpose of a group is exactly that: for everyone to move forward together, supporting each other every step of the way. For that reason, after a brief discussion, we decided to set a balanced pace of progression, making sure no one got left behind or ended up with a huge power gap compared to the others.
Besides, all the monsters we’d faced so far were incredibly weak, offering neither levels nor rewards that were really appealing. Instead of wasting ti and energy killing them just to gain a miserable amount of experience, we ended up agreeing it was better to let Alice finish them off.
That way, she could rack up as much experience as possible. After all, our focus at that mont was clear: to get her to level up as fast as possible.
Pushing aside the thoughts that haunted , I turned my gaze back to Alice. She stood still by my side, eyes fixed on so invisible point in the air, as if watching sothing only she could see. I guessed she was checking her status window.
The mont I opened my mouth to ask, her face suddenly lit up. A wide, spontaneous smile appeared, carrying a joy so intense it seed contagious to anyone around.
Her eyes sparkled with excitent, and before I could say anything, she exclaid, almost jumping with enthusiasm: “I hit level 20!”
At those words, Oliver, Ethan, and I—who watched simultaneously from two different perspectives: my left eye sharing Noa’s viewpoint, and my right seeing through Justin’s—just nodded, almost perfectly in sync. A soft, subtle smile, but full of camaraderie, appeared at the corner of our lips.
We didn’t need to say much more... We were truly committed to that small personal goal: getting Alice to reach level 20 by handing over every monster we could find. It was a team effort, a sort of silent pact, where every win of hers felt like a win for all of us.
As that thought crossed my mind, Ethan, who was carefully putting his long sword on his back, caught everyone’s attention with his steady but relaxed voice: “So, what are we doing now?” he asked, looking around with a slight smile at the corner of his mouth.
“Honestly, I’m starving. It’d be great if we could find sothing to eat before moving on”
Saying that, Ethan glanced at the grotesque monsters—ostrich-like creatures—scattered on the ground like abandoned carcasses. A stern frown ford on his face, his eyes narrowed and brow furrowed, filled with suspicion.
With a doubtful tone and a hint of irony, he asked: “Do you think it’s safe to eat those things?”
Ethan had a valid question. Honestly, since we got here, we hadn’t had a proper al. Maybe it was because we weren’t just regular humans anymore—we sohow were managing hunger in a way that would’ve been impossible before.
Still, that tolerance seed to be reaching its limit. And what made it even more complicated? My bodies—yeah, bodies in the plural—seed to operate independently, each demanding its own calories and water.
That ant both of them had to eat separately to regain strength. It was like taking care of two versions of myself, two separate energy sources that couldn’t be satisfied with a single al.
In the end, almost instinctively, our eyes locked onto the fallen monsters—grotesque, distorted creatures that at that mont represented our only option. We all knew there was no alternative: either we ate those beings, or hunger would consu us.
As that heavy thought crossed my mind, Alice broke the silence with a pragmatic, almost resigned tone: “At least these are visually edible...” she said, staring at the strange shapes of the bodies.
“Anyway, if we don’t eat, we’ll starve. So I guess in this situation... even that horrible centipede would be acceptable”
Though Alice said it firmly and decisively, a closer look showed her expression twisting into disgust right after ntioning the centipede.
Behind that apparent determination, there was clear, growing discomfort. Actually, Oliver, Ethan, and I all shared the sa feeling—none of us really felt comfortable with the idea of eating insects.
I sighed briefly and moved toward the two fallen monsters. Both my male and female bodies stepped forward at the sa ti—each heading for one of the lifeless corpses. With coordinated strength, each form hoisted a monster, tossing it over their shoulder with a firm, determined motion.
Turning to the rest of the group, my male voice sounded clear and resolute: “Anyway, let’s take so back to the cave. We’ll decide what to do there”
Minutes later, carrying the ostrich-like monsters, we carefully made our way through the forest wrapped in a thin mist. Although the fog still hung in the air, it was much thinner than the day before, letting the outlines of trees and terrain be seen in the distance, like soft, blurred shadows.
The scent of slightly damp wood mixed with the fresh sll of wet earth filled my nostrils naturally, almost comfortingly, as we silently walked through the woods toward the cave entrance.
While we walked quietly through the cramped corridors, Ethan’s voice echoed, montarily breaking the silence around us.
“By the way...” he paused, slightly frowning as if searching for the right words.
I glanced at him briefly before looking back at the others around us. Like , everyone’s eyes were fixed on Ethan, a mix of curiosity and apprehension hanging in the air.
The silence stretched for a few seconds, creating an almost tangible tension, until he finally broke it: “What do you think happened to our families?”
Ethan’s voice ca out slightly choked, as if each word required a huge effort to speak. It was like the very act of talking weighed heavily on him, burdened by suffocating emotion.
And honestly, even knowing he only had an adoptive family, I could feel what he was going through—that mix of pain, loss, and loneliness that words can’t fully express.
It seed the feeling was shared, because after Ethan’s brief silence, the atmosphere sank into an even deeper, heavier quiet, as if it were natural for nothing else to be said.
Noticing the impact of his words, Ethan lightly scratched the back of his neck—a nervous gesture revealing his discomfort. With a contained sigh, he looked away for a mont before speaking again, his voice filled with a mix of regret and urgency: “Sorry... I guess I spoke out of turn. But honestly, we’ve got way more urgent things to worry about right now”
Hearing Ethan’s apology, Oliver stayed silent for a mont, eyes fixed on so distant point as if deeply pondering. Then slowly, he shook his head side to side in a mix of resignation and understanding.
His voice rang out firm but tired: “No... you’re right to worry about them. Honestly, I’m worried about my family’s safety too. And I imagine that feeling is shared by all of us who ca to this strange place”
A heavy silence fell over the group, as if the weight of those words compressed the air around us, making it denser and harder to breathe. The sound of our own breathing seed to echo, filling the void left by the abrupt pause.
Oliver stopped speaking, his eyes slowly lifted toward the gray sky, lost in deep thought. For a few seconds, he stood still, as if seeking strength from the slow, heavy clouds drifting above.
Finally, his voice ca out low, almost hesitant: “I... I imagine they’re going through the sa thing we are. I just hope they were lucky enough to find a strong group to protect them, because we don’t know if our families managed to stay together in all this...”
After Oliver’s words, a heavy silence settled over the group, filling the space with a nearly tangible tension. That silence lasted until we reached the cave entrance. No one seed willing to break the mont; voices had faded, replaced by deep thoughts.
After Ethan and Oliver’s revelations, it was clear everyone was lost in intense reflection, trying to process the seriousness of our situation and what the future might still hold.
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