The vast hall buzzed with quiet urgency. Rows of employees hunched over their sleek workstations, eyes darting between the rapidly changing data streams on their screens. The front wall, a massive structure of cold steel and glass, flickered with countless live feeds: "volunteers" in their rooms, strange medieval landscapes where armored figures clashed, and endless statistics rolling up and down like stock market figures in constant flux.

Akari Seki stood near the center of it all, arms crossed, his gaze hard as it tracked the flickering screens. He exuded an air of control, his mere presence enough to keep the room humming with efficiency. His sharp eyes absorbed everything, the shifting visuals, the flickering lights, without betraying a hint of what he was thinking.

"How many users at sign-up?" His voice cut through the ambient hum like a knife, calm yet impossible to ignore.

An analyst, visibly tense, adjusted his headset and quickly responded. "Three million users worldwide at launch, sir. From our island, around five hundred—seventy percent of the total recruits."

Beside Akari, Yukino stood in silence, her datapad glowing softly in her hands as she skimmed the information. "No abnormalities detected. All vital signs are stable," she said, her tone as neutral as her expression.

Akari gave a slight nod, his eyes still fixed on the wall of screens. "Three million," he muttered, almost to himself. "United Front did better. Ten million at launch, two million concurrently online."

Yukino didn't miss a beat, her attention flickering between him and the data she was reviewing. "King's Journey and Live No Evil's RPG settings were never going to pull in those numbers. A sci-fi shooter like United Front taps a different crowd."

A faint shrug rippled through Akari's shoulders. "It doesn't matter. The games were never designed to compete. They're both just paths leading to the same end."

Without breaking his gaze from the screens, Akari turned his attention to the analyst. "What's the current status of the island?"

Fingers tapping over keys, the analyst pulled up the latest figures. "Eighty-five percent of the recruits have logged in."

"Tag the ones who didn't." Akari's tone was colder now, final. "We'll deal with the slackers later."

Yukino barely glanced up from her datapad, seemingly unfazed by the command. This was all just protocol.

Akari's gaze lingered on the screens a moment longer before he turned to Yukino, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly. "So, it begins. Let's see if we can find some diamonds among all this trash."

Yukino remained silent, but the faintest flicker of curiosity crossed her expression. She already knew what was coming next. Akari had been waiting for this moment.

A thin smile tugged at the corners of Akari's lips, more a twitch than a show of emotion. "I think it's time to wake up a certain man."

Yukino looked up from her datapad now, eyes meeting his. She didn't need to ask who he was referring to—they both knew. This was just the first move, but the real game was about to begin. The volunteers thought they were logging into a world of fantasy. What they didn't know was that the stakes were far more real than any of them could imagine.

Akari turned back to the screens, his gaze colder now. He watched the streams of data roll in as Live No Evil came to life, a virtual world swallowing up its players.

This was just the start, but they had been planning for this moment for years.

Suzuki blinked as the whiteness around him settled into focus, a surreal and endless void that stretched beyond what he could comprehend. For a moment, he struggled to orient himself, his feet floating above what appeared to be nothing. Then, slowly, the world started to solidify.

A soft hum filled the air. Suzuki turned just in time to see a young woman materialize on a floating platform before him. She had striking green hair tied into two buns and emerald eyes that seemed to shimmer with curiosity. Suzuki instinctively took a step back to avoid craning his neck, unsure of what to make of the strange figure.

She smirked, her gaze sweeping over him. "You're quick to adjust. Most people freak out a little longer than that," she mused, her tone playful. "VR veteran, I take it?"

Suzuki said nothing, merely returning her gaze with an unreadable expression.

Noticing his silence, the woman sighed, crossing her legs on the floating platform. "Alright, strong silent type. Got it. Let's get this moving then."

She shifted, and with a wave of her hand, the whiteness around them dimmed slightly. "Welcome to Live No Evil. I'm your guide, here to give you the basics before you dive in."

She explained without pause. "This is a Massive Multiplayer Online Role-Playing Game set in a fantasy medieval world where gods and demons literally walk the earth. The NPCs—or 'Denizens,' as we call them—are far more advanced than anything you've seen before. Their AI makes them indistinguishable from actual humans. So, be careful. Any attempt to reveal to them that they're in a game or that you're in a virtual world? Well, that's an instant account deletion."

Suzuki raised an eyebrow at that, already understanding how differently this game was structured compared to others he'd played. Instant deletion for breaking immersion? That would definitely change things.

"As for you," the woman continued, "you'll be referred to as the 'Summoned' in this world. Everyone else? They're the 'Worldborn.' Simple enough."

She then paused, her gaze narrowing slightly as she leaned forward on her platform. "One more thing. There's no character revival in Live No Evil. If you die, that's it. No respawns. You'll have to start fresh."

Suzuki frowned. "Why the departure from King's Journey? Unlimited revivals were a core part of that game."

She shook her head, lips curving into a cryptic smile. "I'm not at liberty to say."

Suzuki shrugged, storing the information away. He was already piecing together how differently players would behave when their virtual lives were on the line. The threat of permanent death would shift the entire atmosphere.

The guide returned to her explanation. "Like any RPG, you'll grow by earning Experience Points—EXP for short. You can get EXP from quests, killing monsters, crafting, training, and other activities. What's unique here is how you distribute it. Most of the EXP will go toward the activity you're performing, but you'll also have a pool of free EXP you can allocate wherever you want."

The idea intrigued Suzuki, who already imagined how he might customize his growth.

"You can add EXP to your level, pump it into skills, or even gamble it to create new skills or spells. Imagine combining archery with telekinesis to control your arrows after they've been fired. That's what's possible here."

"Gambling EXP, huh?" Suzuki muttered. He filed that away, knowing that mastering skill combinations would be critical to standing out in a game like this.

"Exactly," she continued. "Skills can be learned from books, or you can develop them on your own. It's all about how you use your resources."

The guide waved her hand again, pulling up a holographic window. "As for your stats, these will rise based on your race and class. Each race has different affinities, and each class gives unique bonuses. For example, Wisbens—those nature-attuned elves—gain a +3 to Agility as archers but only a +1 to Strength if they go with a knight class."

She made a point of adding, "Live No Evil doesn't restrict players from exploring any class or profession. It's up to you to figure out the right balance."

Suzuki, taking in the wealth of options, couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement. This game was designed with an overwhelming sense of freedom. But with that freedom came responsibility.

"Now," the guide said, her tone lightening again. "Wave your hand downward."

Suzuki did as instructed, and a menu titled Oracle appeared in front of him. The interface was sleek, intuitive, and filled with various options, including inventory, skills, and a grayed-out stat screen.

"The Worldborn have something like the Oracle too," she explained. "But only you can see yours. Unless, of course, you want to show it off."

Suzuki scanned the interface, pausing as he noticed the Log Out button nestled at the bottom.

The guide chuckled. "Don't worry, this isn't some death game. Genaco's not locking you in here forever."

Suzuki's eyes narrowed, but he moved on. "Why is the stat menu grayed out?" he asked, noticing the unavailable option.

"Ah, that's because you haven't chosen a race yet," she replied with a shrug.

"How many are there?"

She smiled mysteriously. "I can't show you all of them, but for now, the playable races are Humans, Elves, and Beastmen."

She broke them down in rapid-fire detail. "The Elves are divided into Wisbens, Halben, and Daeben. The Humans have four distinct sub-races: Nords, Mertians, Ceruleans, and Masonians. As for the Beastmen, you can choose between Felur—cat-like humanoids—or Lycans—dog-like humanoids."

Suzuki listened intently, weighing the options in his mind.

The lady waved her hand, and suddenly, life-sized holograms of each race materialized around them. Suzuki's eyes widened as he took in the visual representations of the Wisbens, Halben, Daeben, Humans, Felur, and Lycans. Each hologram was finely detailed, their features carefully modeled to display their unique characteristics.

The Wisbens, nature-attuned elves, stood tall and lean, their long hair woven with flowers and vines, exuding an ethereal grace. The Halben were shorter and stockier, with pale skin and sharp, angular features. Meanwhile, the Daeben, the dark elves, looked powerful and dangerous, their coal-black skin contrasted by their glowing crimson eyes.

Suzuki moved to the Beastmen. The Felur—feline humanoids—had sleek, muscular bodies with ears that twitched atop their heads, and eyes that glinted with predatory instinct. In contrast, the Lycans stood like upright wolves, their fur coats varying in shades, each radiating raw physical strength.

Finally, his gaze rested on the Humans, the most familiar and seemingly ordinary of all the races, but there was something different about them. Above each hologram, glowing icons displayed the races' stats: Agility, Strength, Magic, and other familiar RPG metrics. But what caught Suzuki's attention was a special stat that stood out—the Bloodline Level.

All the races, except Humans, had a Bloodline Level of 1. The Humans, on the other hand, had a Bloodline Level of 0.

Suzuki narrowed his eyes and turned to the woman. "What does Bloodline Level mean?"

The woman's smirk widened slightly, as if she'd been waiting for him to ask that very question. "Ah, the Bloodline. Now that's where things get interesting." She circled around Suzuki, her voice taking on a more serious tone. "Bloodline is a hidden stat, but one of the most powerful aspects of a character's growth in Live No Evil."

She paused, letting the weight of her words sink in before continuing. "It refers to your connection to ancient, powerful beings—whether they're gods, mythical creatures, or legendary ancestors. The higher your Bloodline Level, the greater your potential. Think of it as a latent power that can be awakened, providing special abilities, physical enhancements, or even magical prowess that transcends normal skill development."

Suzuki's interest was piqued. "And why do humans have a Bloodline Level of 0?"

The guide tilted her head, her expression now more thoughtful. "Humans, while adaptable and versatile, are considered 'unawakened' by nature. They lack the direct connection to divine or supernatural forces that the other races possess. However..." She trailed off, a glint in her eyes.

"However?" Suzuki prompted.

"However, that doesn't mean they're incapable of gaining a Bloodline. It just means humans must earn their connection to it, unlike the other races, who are born with it. In some cases, it may be through artifacts, quests, or even certain choices you make throughout your journey."

"So, Humans can increase their Bloodline Level?" Suzuki asked.

The guide nodded. "Exactly. A Human can go from a Bloodline Level of 0 to something far greater—if they're resourceful enough. There are whispers of ancient secrets buried within this world, remnants of long-forgotten gods that could allow even the weakest of mortals to ascend."

Suzuki studied the Human hologram with renewed interest. A blank slate, perhaps, but one with the potential to surpass the others if handled correctly. "And the other races? Can their Bloodline Level increase?"

"They can," she confirmed. "But their growth is more... limited. For them, their Bloodline is inherited, and while it can be developed, it's harder to push beyond their innate potential. For Humans, however, the sky's the limit. It's all about the choices you make."

Suzuki let the information settle in his mind. The other races had clear advantages, but it seemed the Humans had the potential for the most unpredictable growth. It would be a gamble, but in the right hands, it could also be the most powerful option.

The guide waved her hand once more, and the holograms faded into mist. "Well," she said with a teasing grin, "I'll let you ponder your choice for a while. Choose wisely. Your decision might just change the fate of this world."

Suzuki glanced at the fading holograms one last time, knowing that whichever race he chose would shape his future in Live No Evil. But the added twist of Bloodline Levels gave him pause. There was far more depth to this world than he'd anticipated.

Suzuki, still deep in thought, glanced at the holographic races hovering around him. Each option seemed more fascinating than the last, but the intricacies of Bloodline Levels had taken center stage in his mind. "What about Bloodlines?" he asked, turning to the guide. "How do they directly impact stat allocation?"

The guide smiled, seemingly impressed by his attention to detail. "Good question," she said, waving her hand to summon a visual breakdown. "At Bloodline Level 0, like Humans, you gain 9 stat points per level. Four of those points are automatically distributed based on your race. The other five? You get to distribute them however you like."

She continued, her tone gaining a hint of intrigue. "Other races with Bloodline Level 1 gain 10 stat points per level, but unlike Humans, all 10 of those points are automatically assigned based on their race. Now, here's where things get really interesting. At Bloodline Level 2, the number jumps to 20 stat points per level, and at Level 3, it's 30 stat points. By Level 4, you'll receive a whopping 40 stat points per level."

Suzuki's brows furrowed. The numbers were staggering. "What happens beyond Level 4?"

The guide's smile turned mysterious. "That's classified information. I'm not at liberty to say. But what I can tell you is that while Bloodline Levels do go beyond Level 4, beings with Bloodline Level 3 or higher are extremely rare. Even those born with such power usually start at Level 1 or 2 and slowly awaken their true potential over time."

She stepped closer, her voice lowering slightly. "So while you might encounter beings with a higher Bloodline Level, you'll have time to catch up and improve your own Bloodline before they fully awaken. Stat accumulation becomes a long game."

Suzuki mulled over her words, realizing the implications. "So, there are beings in the game born at Level 3 or even Level 4?"

The guide nodded. "Yes, and those beings should be avoided if possible—at least until you've built yourself up. But here's a tip: with the right main class, even a Level 1 could potentially outpace a Level 3's growth rate. However," she added with a sly grin, "those classes are exceedingly rare. Like Bloodlines, they usually need to be cultivated over time to reach legendary status."

Suzuki absorbed the information, turning back to the races displayed before him. The sheer freedom offered by the Human race tempted him as a gamer. Customizable growth, a blank slate for Bloodline development—everything about them screamed potential. But then he frowned, remembering that he had played as a human throughout King's Journey.

He scanned the remaining options, quickly dismissing the Beastmen. Not that he disliked them, but the community surrounding Beastmen in virtual games could be... intense. He wasn't up for that this time.

His gaze finally settled on the Elves. Unable to make a final decision, Suzuki turned back to the guide. "Do you have any background lore on the Elves?"

The guide chuckled, a knowing smile on her face. "The lore is meant for you to discover as you play, but I can give you a glimpse of the opening event."

She waved her hand, summoning a holographic map of the continent. "You'll be descending into the continent of Destia, a land torn apart by war for centuries. But in the past two decades, a new force, led by the Daeben, has risen. Their empire has rapidly conquered and assimilated nation after nation."

Suzuki's interest piqued as she continued. "The remaining nations, realizing the threat of the Daeben Empire, have ceased their in-fighting and formed a united front. Their armies attacked the Daeben from all sides, leading to a brutal stalemate."

She gestured to a vast plain on the map. "The final battle will take place in the Plains of Farrukath. Players will be elevated to Level 50 for this event and must choose a side. The outcome of the battle will affect your benefits moving forward. If your side wins, you'll gain significant rewards. If your side loses, you'll face some penalties. Race plays a role here too—if you side against your own people, your benefits might be reduced."

Suzuki's mind was made up. A slow grin spread across his face. "I'll be a Daeben."

The guide raised an eyebrow, her smile widening. "You're not one to follow the crowd, are you?"

"Not my style," Suzuki muttered, tapping the Daeben icon without hesitation. The prompt appeared, asking if he would like to customize his appearance, but he declined.

As soon as he made his choice, his body transformed. His skin turned a polished, soot-black like smooth coal, while his hair grew long, cascading down his back like a dark waterfall. His eyes glowed a piercing crimson, and his clothing morphed into a dark tunic, pants, and leather boots. Suzuki—now Kashi—flexed his fingers, feeling the strength coursing through his new form.

Rika's eyes gleamed as she looked Kashi over, her lips curling into a teasing smile. "Well, who would've thought? There's a half-decent face under all that messy hair." With a snap of her fingers, a small pouch materialized at Kashi's waist. "That's a Spatial Bag," she explained, her tone playful yet informative. "It's got an expanded space inside where you can store items, linked directly to your Inventory Tab in your Oracle for easy access. Just remember, it can be stolen—but don't worry, it'll return to you within thirty minutes since it's a Bound Item. To use it, tap the bag, then touch whatever you want to store. The item will shrink and stay inside until you're ready to use it. When you need something, tap the bag and keep a mental image of what you're looking for. Of course, you can manage everything directly from your inventory, too."

Suzuki tapped the bag and then looked at Rika, who smiled approvingly. "Next, you need to choose a name."

Kashi thought for a moment before deciding. "Kashi," he said firmly. He chose the name from the Japanese characters for "hidden" (Ka) and "death" (Shi). No surname. Just Kashi.

The guide nodded and asked him to select a weapon for the upcoming battle. A wall of holographic medieval weapons appeared before him. Kashi inspected each one carefully before settling on a sleek, black longbow. A quiver of arrows appeared on his back as the bow materialized in his hands. He drew the bowstring, testing its strength, before nodding.

"I'm ready," Kashi said, but then paused and looked at the guide. "One last thing before I go. I never got your name."

The guide ready to send him to the battlefield, paused. "You're one of the few who ever asked for my name. It's Rika." Her voice softened, and she leaned in slightly. "You've got the scent of a veteran VR gamer. If you ever played King's Journey, your knowledge from that world might serve you well here. Oh, and do take note of the time dilation. Time flows five time faster in here compared to the real world"

Kashi nodded. "Thanks, Rika."

As a pillar of light enveloped him, blocking Kashi from sight and sound, Rika's lips curled into a teasing smirk. "Suzuki, Suzuki... Glad to have you home."

With those parting words which he did not hear, Kashi was gone, no doubt transported to the battlefield, ready to carve his path through Live No Evil.

11th Ryanem, 1082

The battlefield stretched across the grassy plain, illuminated by the soft light of the full moon hanging high in the cloudless sky. A sea of firelit pyres flickered across the terrain, casting long shadows over the ranks of two massive armies facing each other in the night. It was an awe-inspiring sight, the kind of moment that could determine the fate of empires.

On one side of the field stood the army of Destia, a coalition of races united for this final stand. Beastmen with their savage, primal might, dwarves wielding mighty war hammers and axes, the tall and lithe halben with their graceful yet deadly forms, and the ethereal wisben, glowing faintly with their otherworldly auras. Their numbers stretched far into the horizon, a seemingly endless tide of warriors preparing for the clash that could shape the destiny of their world.

Opposite them, the Daeben forces awaited the coming storm. Predominantly composed of the dark-skinned Daeben, their crimson eyes glowing faintly in the night, they stood proud and unyielding. Although fewer in number, the Daeben carried themselves with the grim resolve of those who had known nothing but war their entire lives. Sprinkled among them were warriors from other races, those who had pledged themselves to the Daeben cause, but it was the dark elves' presence that dominated the battlefield.

From an elevated vantage point behind the Daeben army, a young Daeben child stood watching in wide-eyed wonder. She was but a girl, no older than twelve summers, yet her red eyes gleamed with a mixture of curiosity and fear. The generals and veterans surrounding her, grim-faced and battle-hardened, barely noticed the child among them, their attention fixed on the battlefield.

At the heart of their camp, a woman sat within a vast mandala, her hands weaving complex shapes in the air as she worked her summoning magic. Her face was a mask of concentration, her efforts focused on calling forth aid for the Daeben army. But the mood among the generals was grim.

Across the field, over the heads of their enemies, beams of light began to shoot up into the sky—thousands of them. Each beam signaled the arrival of a summoned warrior, brought from distant realms to bolster the ranks of the Destian forces. The child's heart sank as she saw the endless procession of warriors arriving, the light from the summoning pillars flooding the enemy ranks. In stark contrast, the Daeben side had only a few dozen pillars appearing sporadically, and those that did appear were clustered far from the front lines.

Whispers of doom rippled through the camp. The generals exchanged dark glances, their expressions hardening with each passing moment. They knew what this meant. The imbalance was too great. Hope was slipping away from them, and there was little that could be done to stop it.

Then, a single pillar of light shot down from the heavens, landing on their side. Unlike the rest, this one did not appear far in the rear but directly at the head of the Daeben army. At first, no one paid it much mind, believing it to be yet another weak summoning, one too insignificant to change the tide of battle. But the placement was odd—at the very front, as though the warrior inside had been forced onto the front lines against all odds.

The girl's breath caught in her throat. She shrugged off her mother's protective arm, pushing her way forward to get a better view. From the light, a figure emerged—a lone Daeben, kneeling at the head of the army. He bore a dark bow, its surface shimmering with raw, untapped power. Without hesitation, he drew the string back, the arrow forming from the very essence of shadow itself, accumulating mana so thick it seemed to warp the air around him.

The girl's heart raced as she watched, her eyes wide with awe. Before anyone could react, the figure released the bowstring. The dark arrow shot through the air, cutting through the night sky with terrifying speed. She lost sight of it, but an instant later, an explosion rocked the enemy's rear. A thunderous roar of anger echoed across the plains as the enemy forces recoiled, stunned by the sudden destruction.

Gasps of disbelief spread through the Daeben camp, but the girl had no time to comprehend what had happened. The Destian forces reacted swiftly, their retaliation brutal. Thousands of projectiles hurtled through the air toward the lone archer, all aimed to wipe him from existence.

The archer, still kneeling, began to rise shakily to his feet. His arms spread wide as if to embrace the inevitable death descending upon him. For a brief moment, the girl could see the serene, almost welcoming expression on his face, his red eyes gleaming with acceptance.

Then a voice rang out, shattering the moment.

"The allied force's Summoner is dead! All forces, charge!"

The girl's head snapped around at the sound of her mother's voice. She barely understood the words, but the impact of them hit her like a wave. The lone Daeben's arrow had found its mark, killing the enemy summoner—the very source of the countless reinforcements that had demoralized their army.

The Daeben forces roared to life, their despair replaced with a sudden surge of hope and fury. The tide had shifted.

The girl's gaze returned to the archer. He stood at the front of the army, his back turned to her, bathed in the glow of the moon and the flickering fires of war. He had changed everything with a single shot. But before she could process what had happened, the barrage of enemy fire finally reached him. Explosions lit up the battlefield, and in an instant, the Daeben archer was consumed by flames and smoke.

The girl stood frozen, her heart pounding in her chest, unable to tear her eyes away from the spot where he had stood. His body was gone, obliterated by the enemy's counterattack. Yet the image of him—his quiet defiance, his unwavering resolve—was burned into her mind.

The nameless archer had fallen, but his death had given them a chance. And as the Daeben forces surged forward with renewed strength, the girl silently vowed to never forget the man who had sacrificed himself to turn the tide of battle.

A Few Moments Earlier,

Hovering above the battlefield in a small pillar of light, Kashi felt a strange sense of detachment. His body floated, surrounded by clouds that shimmered in the moonlight, while below him, the sprawling plain was teeming with life—armies clashing, firelight flickering, the distant sounds of battle muffled by the height. From this vantage point, everything looked so small, as if the chaos unfolding below was nothing more than a child's game. He smirked at the irony of it. Perhaps, in a way, it was.

A prompt appeared before him in the air, asking him to select where he wanted to land. Kashi wasted no time. He wasn't here to play cautiously or bide his time in the backlines. Frontline, right at the very front, he chose. Why hold back when this was just a promotional event with inflated stats? He reasoned that dying here wouldn't matter. His goal was simple: kill as many as possible and gain the merits that came with it. Whatever punishment came after—if any—would be wiped away once everything reset.

As the light began to shift, guiding him toward the front of the Daeben army, Kashi opened his skills tab to review his options. Twelve skills were displayed, each one brimming with potential.

Arrow Shot: Basic, but reliable.

Piercing Arrow: Good for cutting through groups of enemies.

Eagle Eye: Zoom in on a distant target, perfect for long-range shots.

Homing Arrow: Arrows that would never miss as long as the target was within sight.

Dark Mark: An intermediate skill that allowed him to mark a location with Eagle Eye and guarantee a hit on it.

Ricochet Arrow: Arrows that could bounce between enemies, hitting up to three targets.

Rapid Fire: Faster shooting, turning him into a near-machine gun.

Snipe: Double damage on an unaware target.

Chargeable Arcane Arrow: The ultimate skill for his bow. He could pour all his mana into a single arrow, making it exponentially stronger and faster.

Hail of Arrows: A devastating skill that duplicated his arrow into a storm of mana arrows raining down on the enemy.

Falcon Dive: Boosted damage from above.

Shadow Dance: A temporary boost to his agility when stepping on someone's shadow.

Kashi scanned the skills quickly, piecing together a plan in his mind. He had no intention of going easy. The frontlines would be a bloodbath, but he'd make sure it wasn't his blood that was spilled first.

His attention shifted to the battlefield below. From this high up, it was easier to survey the enemy's forces. The enemy's encampment was massive, but what caught his eye wasn't the size—it was the sheer number of summoning pillars dotting their ranks. Thousands of them shot up into the sky, each pillar marking the arrival of a powerful summoned warrior on the enemy side. The allied Daeben forces had nowhere near the same number of reinforcements. The situation looked bleak.

Kashi's eyes narrowed. His gaze swept over the enemy ranks, searching for anything that stood out. With a practiced hand, he activated Eagle Eye and zoomed in. At the simulated skill level, Kashi did not need to go through the chant, and could directly activate the skill menatlly.

The enemy's summoner—the source of their endless reinforcements—had to be somewhere hidden, and the pillars of light could help narrow it down. Summoners rarely kept their summoned beings directly next to them; they needed space for their magic, after all.

His enhanced vision locked onto an area devoid of light pillars. There, surrounded by guards and kneeling within a complex, glowing mandala, was a woman. The summoner. A wicked grin spread across Kashi's face.

Without hesitation, he activated Dark Mark and sent it hurtling toward her location. The system prompt flickered—Dark Mark connected. The light around him intensified, cutting off his view of the battlefield as the pillar prepared to deliver him to the ground. It didn't matter. He knew where his target was now.

As the pillar carried him down, Kashi knocked an arrow and began charging his Arcane Arrow skill. Mana surged through his body, pooling into the shaft of the dark arrow until it shimmered with barely contained energy. He gritted his teeth, pouring more mana into it than he ever had before. The arrow began to shake, threatening to explode prematurely, but he pushed it to its limits. Not yet... He needed this one shot to count.

When the light finally deposited him at the front of the Daeben army, Kashi wasted no time. Dropping to one knee, he activated Piercing Arrow and Snipe in quick succession. The battlefield blurred around him, but his focus was singular. He could feel the mana in the arrow thrumming with power, desperate to be released.

With one fluid motion, Kashi let the arrow fly.

The mana-charged projectile ripped through the air, far faster than anything the soldiers or even the summoner's guards could react to. It tore across the battlefield in an instant, aimed directly at the woman in the mandala. Just as it was about to make contact, a shield warrior—a veteran with sharp instincts—intercepted it at the last moment. But he was too late. The arrow collided with his shield, and without enough time to coat it in mana, the shield splintered under the impact.

The explosion that followed was devastating. Mana erupted outward in a violent shockwave, ripping through the ground and shattering the summoning mandala beneath the summoner. The backlash of magical energy overwhelmed her, and in a heartbeat, her body was consumed in a spray of blood and gore. She was dead, and with her, the flow of reinforcements halted.

For a moment, the battlefield fell into stunned silence. Then the enemy's general, enraged by the death of their summoner, shouted an order that echoed across the plains.

"Slaughter the Daeben!"

The response was immediate. The allied forces' summoned warriors launched their finishers, targeting Kashi with a barrage of projectiles. Exhausted and drained from the sheer amount of mana he'd used, Kashi was too weak to move. But he didn't need to.

Standing tall amidst the oncoming storm of destruction, Kashi spread his arms wide, welcoming the volley of death from the enraged enemy forces. His breath was shallow, and his body trembled from the immense mana drain, but his mind remained sharp.

His lips twitched. At first, it was just a small, awkward movement. His face contorted, as if he was trying to remember how to smile—something foreign, something unnatural to him. The expression flickered in and out, unsure and hesitant. Yet, as the projectiles rained down upon him, exploding and tearing up the ground all around, the grin took shape, twisting into something defiant, almost wild.

His teeth bared fully, a snarl and a grin all in one—an expression of sheer rebellion in the face of his imminent death. The explosion, the hail of arrows, the scorching fire of spells converged on his figure, but Kashi didn't waver.

"I will not be ordinary. This is the start of my story..."

The words slipped from his lips, barely audible beneath the cacophony of destruction. But as the blasts enveloped him, the force threatening to tear him apart, something unexpected happened. The burning, blinding light engulfed him entirely—and then he vanished.

In the blink of an eye, Kashi was gone. His body wasn't torn apart or disintegrated as expected. Instead, he simply disappeared from the battlefield, the bright glow of the promotional event fading with him.

Kicked out of the event, expelled from the battlefield at the moment of his death, Kashi's story—his real story—had only just begun.

Genaco Airfield.

6:10 p.m Tuesday, 7th April, 2043.

A sleek black sedan glided silently across the dimly lit runway of a private Genaco airfield, its polished exterior reflecting the fading orange hues of the setting sun. It came to a smooth stop a distance away from a waiting VTOL aircraft, its engines already humming softly in preparation for takeoff. The door to the sedan clicked open, and James Shouyou stepped out, datapad in hand, his eyes scanning the screen as he strolled towards the aircraft.

The sound of a voice crackled through the datapad, calm but purposeful. "Sir, I just wanted to inform you that Suzuki has logged into the game."

James' lips curled into a knowing smirk, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "I knew he wouldn't be able to resist," he said, his voice smooth and confident, tinged with satisfaction. "Once you place something like that in front of him, it was only a matter of time."

He continued to walk, his stride unhurried, as the sound of his footsteps echoed across the tarmac. The VTOL loomed larger as he approached, its dark, angular frame silhouetted against the twilight sky.

"And what about the measures?" James asked, glancing down at the datapad as he neared the VTOL's entrance.

The voice on the other end responded with a note of caution. "The measures have been put in place, sir, but I can't guarantee their effectiveness. My influence over the game world is limited, even with all the control we've established."

James let out a chuckle, low and almost indulgent. "Good," he said, pausing for a moment to look up at the aircraft before turning his gaze back to the datapad. "It would be far too boring if we could control everything. The most interesting outcomes come from chaos—the unpredictability of it all. Sometimes, the best results are those produced by the whims of fate."

As he spoke, he ascended the short staircase leading into the VTOL, nodding to the pilots who greeted him with respectful salutes. He settled into one of the sleek leather seats inside, casually resting the datapad on his lap as he continued the conversation.

"All we can do now is sit back and watch. We've played our part," James said, his voice carrying a hint of anticipation. "Now we observe... and hope for a miracle."

With that, the call ended. James placed the datapad on the seat beside him, his attention shifting to the city in the distance. The VTOL's engines roared to life as the aircraft began to ascend, the lights of the city growing smaller as they climbed higher into the sky.

He leaned back, his fingers tracing the edge of the armrest absently as he stared out of the window, watching the sprawling city below. A flicker of something crossed his expression—perhaps curiosity, perhaps something darker—as he gazed at the glittering web of lights dotting the skyline.

"I wonder how many lights will go out this time," he murmured to himself, his voice barely audible over the hum of the VTOL as it ascended into the star-streaked night.

And with that, the city below shrank into a sea of flickering lights, and the VTOL disappeared into the dark horizon, leaving the airfield silent once more.

Adachi Compound,

6:12 p.m Tuesday, 7th April, 2043.

Elsewhere, a butterfly fluttered gently through the warm evening air, its delicate wings catching the fading light of the setting sun. It drifted over the walls of an expansive compound nestled in the heart of the city, where ancient Edo-era architecture stood in elegant defiance of the modern skyline beyond. The rooftops, with their curved tiles, rose like quiet sentinels, casting long shadows over perfectly manicured gardens below. Stone pathways wound through blooming trees and koi ponds, lanterns already lit to guide the way in the growing twilight. The compound, a blend of tradition and majesty, was a world unto itself, untouched by the pace of the city around it.

The butterfly lazily dipped toward a window, its delicate legs brushing against the polished wood of the sill before settling. Inside, a dim light cast from paper lanterns illuminated the room, revealing two figures standing over a Full Virtual Gaming Pod.

An old man stood at the center of the room, his form imposing despite his age. He wore a dark, traditional kimono that wrapped tightly around his muscular frame, his presence emanating a quiet authority. His black hair, streaked with gray, framed a face hardened by time, and his sharp eyes gleamed with the same intensity as in his younger years. He looked down at the pod where Ayumi lay, his gaze unwavering.

Beside him stood a maid, her graying hair pinned back neatly as she wrung her hands, a kind expression of concern etched across her face. She was in her sixties, dressed modestly in a simple, traditional kimono. Though the years had worn her, there was a warmth to her, as though her very presence brought comfort to the room.

The man broke the silence. "Did she really take a leave of absence for this?" His voice was low, each word carrying weight.

The maid nodded, her brows furrowing as she glanced down at the unconscious form of Ayumi within the gaming pod. "Yes, sir. I... still do not understand what the young lady is thinking."

The man's frown deepened. His eyes, sharp as a hawk's, flickered toward the desk where a framed photo of Ayumi rested. After a long pause, he turned on his heel, his kimono sweeping behind him as he walked toward the door.

"Tell her," he said, his voice cold with authority, "that she must maintain her record. We will not permit a stain on the Adachi name."

With that, the man left the room, the door sliding shut behind him with a firm finality. The maid stood there, watching over Ayumi's still body, her concern deepening.

Outside, the butterfly fluttered once again, lifting off from the windowsill into the twilight. As the sky darkened into night, the compound's lanterns flickered to life, their warm glow holding back the encroaching shadows.

???

High above a dense forest, a bird soared, its wings cutting through the crisp air as it glided silently over a sea of green. Below, a clearing came into view, revealing a small, battered stronghold nestled within the trees. The stone tower at its center rose like a weary sentinel, its walls crumbling and worn from years of neglect. Surrounding the tower were walls, cracked and uneven, with weeds growing unchecked in the crevices. A handful of guards, clad in old, rusted armor, patrolled lazily, their movements sluggish, as if they had long since abandoned any real sense of duty.

The bird paid them no mind, its sharp eyes scanning the ground for movement. Soon, it spotted a rat darting across the overgrown grass outside the stronghold, its tiny form weaving between patches of underbrush. Instinct took over, and the bird dipped sharply, wings folding as it hurtled toward its prey. But just as its talons were about to close around the rat, the creature vanished into a crack at the base of the wall, escaping into the safety of the stronghold.

Inside, the rat scurried through the darkness, navigating the narrow gaps within the stone walls with practiced ease. It squeezed through one crevice after another until it emerged into a small, filthy prison cell. The air was damp and stale, the walls slick with mold. Moonlight filtered through a barred window high above, casting pale beams onto the grim scene below.

A daeben lay on the cold stone floor, his soot-black skin blending into the shadows. His body was still, as if lifeless, his clothes torn and covered in grime. His long black hair, matted with dirt, obscured most of his face, and his bright red eyes were hidden beneath heavy lids. The only movement in the room was the rat, cautiously sniffing the air as it inched closer to the daeben's bare feet.

It tested the air with its nose, then gave the foot a tentative nibble. No response. Emboldened, the rat gnawed harder, drawing a thin line of blood from the daeben's cold skin. Still, there was no movement. The rat, now convinced that its meal was indeed dead, prepared to make its dash for the small gap beneath the wooden door on the far side of the room. It hesitated only for a moment before scurrying past the body, eager to escape into the night.

But just as it neared the door, a hand shot out with unnatural speed, snatching the rat by its tail. The creature squealed, its legs flailing in the air as it was yanked backward.

Cold, crimson eyes flicked open in the darkness, locking onto the rat's writhing form. The daeben, who had seemed so lifeless only moments ago, held the rat in a vice-like grip. With a slow, deliberate movement, his fingers tightened around the creature's neck, silencing its frantic squeaks. In the dim light, the last thing the rat saw was those burning red eyes before its neck was snapped with a quiet crack.

The daeben, Kashi, let the lifeless body fall to the floor, the hint of a smile curling at the edge of his lips as he slowly sat up, flexing his stiff muscles.