Draft

Chapter 8 - The Hunt Begins

The sun barely peeked through the dense canopy of the forest as a thick mist rolled over the terrain. The Shuffle Selection had officially begun. A chilling gust of wind carried the distant echoes of clashing metal and the agonized cries of the fallen.

Mike crouched low in the undergrowth, gripping the worn-out dagger Lily had given him the day before. His heart pounded like a war drum. His mind replayed her words.

"Survive. Observe. Strike only when necessary."

It had been only ten minutes since they were thrown into the wild, yet it already felt like hours. He glanced at the device strapped to his wrist—a small screen displayed his current points:

0.

A simple rule applied:

Hunting animals would yield low points.

Defeating rivals would yield high points.

Killing someone would ensure all of their accumulated points transferred to the victor.

Mike wasn’t eager to kill, but he wasn’t naive either. If he wanted to live, he had to be ready for anything.

The forest stretched endlessly in every direction. Massive trees loomed above, their branches tangling together to create a near-impenetrable ceiling. The ground was damp, the scent of wet leaves and fresh blood lingering in the air. Somewhere far off, a scream echoed—quickly cut short.

Mike swallowed hard. This isn’t a test… it’s a warzone.

Suddenly, a rustling sound to his left made him freeze. He shifted slightly, narrowing his eyes at the source. A figure moved through the trees—a young man with a shaved head and piercing eyes, holding twin curved daggers.

Mike recognized him immediately: Reid "Phantom" Carter.

A deadly assassin-like fighter whose ability allowed him to phase through physical attacks momentarily. He was one of the strongest among the ten new rivals.

Mike pressed his body against the cold earth, hoping to stay undetected. But just as he thought he was safe—

"You're not very good at hiding, are you?"

A chill shot down Mike’s spine. The voice came from right behind him.

Instinct took over. He rolled forward just as a dagger slashed through the air where his neck had been. Phantom grinned, his figure flickering slightly before solidifying.

"How long do you think you'll last, rookie?"

Mike scrambled to his feet, keeping his eyes locked on Phantom. He had barely trained for a week, and now he was already facing a monster.

He tightened his grip on his dagger. Think. Adapt.

Phantom dashed forward. Mike barely dodged the first strike, but the second dagger nicked his arm. Pain flared up instantly.

He's too fast.

But just as Phantom went in for another strike, something unexpected happened.

A metallic clang rang out. Phantom's dagger was stopped mid-air—by a thin, nearly invisible wire.

"Tsk. Always interfering, huh?" Phantom muttered.

A girl stepped into view from the trees, her long silver hair cascading over her shoulder. Celine "Silkweaver" Cross, the cunning tactician who used razor-sharp wires in combat.

"I was watching," she said, her amber eyes glinting with curiosity. "Mike… you’re more interesting than I thought."

Mike barely had time to process her words before another enemy emerged—a towering figure wielding a spiked club. Damian "Ironhide" Briggs, a brute with the ability to harden his skin like steel.

Mike exhaled sharply. Three enemies. No allies. This was bad.

"Well," Celine said, her gaze shifting between the two men. "Since we're all here… shall we make things interesting?"

Mike’s mind raced. Celine had stopped Phantom’s attack, which meant she wasn’t fully aligned with him. And Ironhide… he was a wildcard. His brute strength made him an unstoppable force in direct combat, but he lacked the agility and speed that Phantom had.

A deep growl made all of them turn. From the dense foliage, a pair of glowing red eyes emerged. A beast—a massive, wolf-like creature with thick black fur and jagged fangs dripping with saliva—stalked toward them.

The tension cracked. Phantom was the first to react, disappearing into thin air before reappearing beside the creature, his daggers flashing in the dim light. He slashed at the beast’s throat, but his blades barely grazed its thick hide.

Ironhide smirked, gripping his club tightly. "Finally. A real challenge."

He charged forward, swinging his weapon with a force that shook the ground. The beast leapt backward, dodging the attack, but Mike saw his chance.

He had no intention of fighting this thing head-on. Instead, he ran.

Through the trees, past the underbrush, his feet pounded against the damp earth. He could hear the fight raging behind him, but he didn’t stop. His mind was clear—his goal was survival, not pride.

He didn’t get far.

Celine was suddenly beside him, moving effortlessly through the trees. Her amber eyes shone with something between amusement and intrigue.

"You’re running?" she asked, her voice lilting.

Mike didn’t answer. He only pushed forward.

Then he felt it. A sudden, sharp tug against his ankle. His body lurched forward as he hit the ground hard. He barely had time to look before he saw it—a thin, razor-sharp wire wrapped around his foot.

Celine crouched beside him, her fingers lightly playing with the silver threads that stretched between her hands.

"You're fast, but not fast enough."

Mike clenched his jaw. His breathing was heavy, his pulse erratic. He needed to escape—but he was at her mercy.

Celine leaned closer, her face inches from his. "Tell me, Mike… how far are you willing to go to survive?"

The question hung in the air, heavy and suffocating.

Mike’s fingers curled around his dagger. His answer?

As far as it takes.

Sneak Peek - Chapter 9: The First Kill

Mike knew he was outmatched. But survival wasn't about being the strongest—it was about being the smartest. With Phantom closing in, Ironhide ready to crush him, and Silkweaver watching with that unnerving curiosity…

Could he turn this fight to his advantage?

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