CHAPTER 43: CHAPTER 43: AHEAD, SMALL BAD WOLF

Adam couldn’t even feel Samantha’s weight anymore—the simplicity of the powers granted by the Game and the Administrators was a blessing.

Only five points on Strength, and Adam had become six times stronger than before he entered the Game, or at least it felt like it. He almost felt like he was floating.

And he wasn’t the only one, the others did too. But not because most of them have already leveled up once, no—even those who hadn’t been given points felt like they were floating.

Perhaps a sudden sense of euphoria, or adrenaline disguised as euphoria.

As for Bjorn, he looked back from time to time, trying to see if their Inner Crystal was being attacked.

The dried blood on his face cracked when his eyebrows narrowed in concern as he scanned the area. And when it was clear, he slowed down and waved his hands at Grace to get her attention.

He signed to her, fingers moving in quick, precise flicks.

Grace squinted, processing the signs before responding in a very weak voice.

"It’s... the Duelist of Rose," she whispered. Bjorn was asking what happened before he arrived, but Grace thought it would be faster to just tell him who happened.

Bjorn almost tripped as soon as he heard that. His eyes widened, and his steps grew faster.

They were racing against Sylvie. Bjorn got the urge to look back again, but he stopped himself from doing so and just focused forward.

They continued to run, desperately. The creeps behind them even puked from exhaustion, but they ran. Some collapsed to their knees, gasping for air, while others staggered forward on wobbly legs.

But still, they continued to run.

And soon, they reached a vast clearing—a large parking lot filled with cars.

"We... have to go there?" Grace gulped. The parking lot stretched before them, a sea of abandoned vehicles leading to a massive structure—a football arena that loomed against the sky.

And inside it, the pillar of light they have been seeing from the horizon shot upward.

That meant the Spawn Crystal was also inside. How... dramatic, they all thought.

"That’s... that’s suicide," muttered one of the creeps. "We’ll be sitting ducks crossing that open space."

"Got any better ideas?" another shot back, wiping vomit from his chin.

A woman with a broken arm shook her head. "If that Hero catches up to us before we reach the crystal, we’re dead—"

Before their conversation could continue, they heard a shush from one of the other creeps in front of the group.

Bjorn raised his hand and gestured to everyone to follow closely behind him.

Adam only realized it now when Bjorn was giving the orders directly, but the man from the IBAA was gone—he probably died already.

He... didn’t even notice. Now that they were almost at the end, Adam had realized just how many truly die in the Game—and they all just felt like...ants.

Insignificant, a statistic. He promised himself that he would remember each and every one of them, and apologize... but he couldn’t even remember the faces of the dead at all.

Because this is your nature, Adam. Why would you even remember the faces of these... humans? You should’ve realized by now that they are beneath you. Ants, as you said.

Adam gently held Samantha in his arms, promising himself once more that he would protect them—that they wouldn’t become a statistic.

They trailed across the sea of cars, their eyes wide open for even the most minute movement.

But there was nothing.

And soon, they entered the hallways of the stadium without any trouble at all. And once inside, they became even more careful. Quiet.

But it was useless. Their steps echoed from the wide halls, bouncing off concrete walls until an unknown end.

"It... it smells like popcorn and sweat."

"Fuck... my team was supposed to play tonight."

"Shit, there’s beer."

For a moment, they were distracted by the normalcy of it all. If the Game didn’t happen, then some of them would probably be here watching a different game. It almost made them break down upon realizing that they could never truly return to how it was before... even if they won.

But they didn’t stop, no.

"M...mommy... it’s so dark," Samantha whispered, burying her face on Adam’s chest, "I... I don’t like this."

Samantha slightly peeked into the darkness, but once again just quickly buried her face. Everyone’s senses were heightened, and like Samantha, most of them were scared.

But unlike the little girl, they had no choice but to walk through this darkness and carry their heavy and tired feet.

Despite all their worries and caution, however, the soft light of the football field soon landed on their feet. They slowly, and carefully stepped out, the vast open space stretched before them.

The grass was still green even under the Dome’s translucent cage and the gray smoke resting beneath.

And then there it was.

The Spawn Crystal.

The crystal of the end. Hovering a meter from the ground, right at the center of the field, as large as an entire bus. It pulsed with blue energy, waves of light washing over its surface like water. The air around it hummed, making the hair on everyone’s arms stand on end.

Bjorn stepped out first, his eyes scanning the entire field and the stands, and when he was sure there was no one, he quickly ran to the center.

Adam and the others followed. Their footsteps carried the weight of everything they have been through, some heavier than most.

Grace’s breath stammered. Her steps moved faster as she glanced at Samantha. She then looked at Adam, and Adam also glanced at her. Their eyes met briefly, a moment of connection amid chaos.

But then, Grace’s eyes turned wide as she saw a shadow running across the bleachers.

Something was moving fast—too fast—darting between rows of seats with inhuman speed. She was confused at first, squinting to make out the shape in the dim light.

She was about to call for Bjorn, but then the shadow suddenly leaped from the stands.

His dark silhouette and thick claws, landing toward Adam.

[Helsinki, Little Wolf Man]

"Adam!" She screamed, pushing him away from danger without even thinking about it.