A voice came from behind, darkening my mood as I turned to face the worst person to start my day with.
The voice belonged to a young man dressed in a three-piece blue suit from a well-known brand. He had jet-black hair, brown eyes, porcelain skin, and a handsome face. He appeared to be around seventeen or eighteen years old. A few people, dressed in similar attire, followed behind him like wolves trailing their pack leader.
"Roger... Did you come all the way to Central City just to greet me?" I asked, glancing at the group behind him and the man leading them.
"What are friends for?" Roger replied with open arms as he moved toward me. "I just wanted to land closer to your location, but then again... it's random, so I have to rely on luck."
He has some nerve to say that after trying to assassinate us over a hundred times, Moriarty remarked angrily.
"Why did you bring just one person? I thought there would be more," Roger asked, looking curiously at Jonathan.
"Trust me, he's more than enough—" Before I could finish my sentence, Roger suddenly lunged forward, attempting to punch me with his aura-coated fist. But before the strike could land, Jonathan caught his fist effortlessly—without even transforming his hand.
"I'm jealous," Roger admitted, stepping back.
"I told you," I said with a smirk. "Jokes aside, how sure are you that you'll land in the same place as the others?"
"The chances aren't that high," Roger replied, fixing his posture. "The zone they're dropping us into is pretty large, from what I've heard. But the objectives are the same as always—either kill the creatures there to earn points or steal them from someone else. Even if we're in the same compartments, we'll be dropped in random locations, so it all depends on luck. I'll try to aim for the hideouts. Let's meet up in the zone if possible."
Since we had to survive for three nights while earning points, it was better to take over a pre-built base, like an orc hideout, rather than trying to build one from scratch. The academy had also set a rule prohibiting the use of tents or similar items to ensure fairness among participants, preventing anyone from gaining an unfair advantage.
I also planned to take over an orc hideout, but first, there were some people I needed to eliminate before entering the academy—variables that had slipped past me while I was trying to divert the timeline back to its original course.
The distant hum of an approaching train grew into a deep roar—a wall of steel and speed hurtling toward us. The wind slammed against our bodies.
SHHHHOOOOM!
The roar shifted, the scream of motion twisting into a high-pitched whine. The rush of wind weakened, then ceased. Silence fell, broken only by the soft hum of cooling engines.
"I guess this is farewell, then," Moriarty stated, walking toward the train without looking at Roger. "I hope the next time we cross paths, we won't be enemies."
I couldn't see Roger's reaction to those words, but I could feel his annoyance.
The train compartment we entered was nearly full, but a few people moved aside when they recognized me, allowing us to take two seats.
"When we drop down, find a river or something and take a couple of dips in it," I whispered to Jonathan.
He frowned in confusion, sniffing himself once before asking, "But I don't smell. Why do I need to take a bath?"
"Roger planted a bug on you," I explained in a low voice. "Don't speak loudly. Just wash it off when you drop down, and don't try to find me. Collect as many points as you need to pass, then take a rest somewhere safe."
"But I'm supposed to protect you, young master—"
"I'll be fine. I have something to do. Just follow my instructions," I replied, pulling my cane from the luggage bag. "If you're in danger, there's a force field generator inside. Don't be stingy with resources at the worst possible time."
"How do I activate it?"
"I installed a voice activation system. Just sound panicked or say anything that means 'help,'" I explained, keeping my tone calm.
Even though Jonathan was raised by Alfred, he still had the brain of a werewolf—a species with notoriously low intelligence due to their barbaric, battle-driven nature. I always had to simplify my explanations when introducing him to my inventions.
Last time he tried to help me build a suit, he blew up my entire lab... Since then, I never let him near advanced technology without first showing him how it worked.
"Why is there a wi—" Jonathan started to say, rummaging through the luggage, but I quickly silenced him, grabbing him in a chokehold around his mouth.
Moriarty and I had grown accustomed to the taste of wine since our seventh birthday, but since the academy prohibited alcohol, I had smuggled a bottle inside my luggage. If I got caught, I'd lose it. And God knows how long it would take for us to be sent on our first mission.
"Do not touch my stash. Don't even speak about it to anyone," I said calmly before releasing him. "Protect it at all costs."
Jonathan took a deep breath, running a few mental calculations before concluding that the luggage was now more important than me.
"...I understand, young master."
All of a sudden, everything went blank for a moment—I found myself falling, still strapped to my seat. The train had entered the Yellow Zone's upper layer, and it had begun dropping us one by one.
Screams echoed in the distance as people landed. The seats we were in had built-in cushions, ensuring that no one died from the fall.
As I landed, I saw towering trees surrounding the area, their branches swaying gently overhead. The faint rustling of leaves mixed with distant bird calls, creating a quiet, almost peaceful atmosphere. When I listened closely, beyond the whisper of the wind, I heard it—a soft, steady murmur of flowing water. A river, hidden somewhere nearby.
"We haven't been out for a long time. This almost feels foreign," Moriarty mused, stretching our vessel. "How many variables are there?"
According to my research, there are nine. They should all be dropping near us. I made sure of that, I replied, scanning the area.
As more candidates were dropped, a large blue hologram flickered to life in the sky, displaying the face of a beautiful young woman in her twenties.
"Dear candidates, this is a message to all those attempting to join Paragon. I am the Second Headmaster of Paragon. Your only objectives here are to survive for three days and nights while earning points by killing the monsters within the forest or stealing points from other candidates.
You are not allowed to kill your fellow candidates. If you do, you will be punished by law, even if you pass the exam. In such a case, you will be stripped of your right to join Paragon.
That is all. I hope you all make it to the end of the exam."
With that, the hologram vanished.
"Hm. Activate the illusion force field and take care of the drones, Wally," Moriarty ordered, tapping my cane twice against the ground.
Just as I expected, nine people were scattered nearby—all of them metahumans, each wary of the others. If we used the element of surprise, we could wipe them all out at once… but where was the fun in that?
In a blink, Moriarty vanished from his position, reappearing behind one of the candidates. In an instant, he sliced off the person's head with his cane, impaling it like a giant candy.
"H-He just killed him!" someone screamed, but Moriarty remained unfazed.
Three candidates stood frozen in fear. Two trembled at the sight of the severed head, while the rest tried to muster the courage to fight.
"Wh-Why did you kill him?!" a young woman shouted, one of the few brave enough to speak up.
"Hm. No particular reason," Moriarty shrugged, a smile playing on his lips. "You see, none of you did anything wrong... but your existence is a problem for this universe's timeline. That's why you all must die."
His eyes gleamed with amusement.
"Now, I'm a very reasonable person, so I won't kill you all instantly like I did him. Instead, I'll give you a choice.
You can either run away and die immediately… or work together and fight me.
The choice is yours."