Jude's blade hovered inches from the goblin's throat.
The goblin's breathing was shallow. Its body trembled, too weak to move. Blood smeared the tiles beneath its twitching limbs. One clean swipe was all it would take to end its life.
But Jude didn't move.
His grip stayed firm.
His arm didn't shake.
His eyes—narrowed, storm-gray—weren't on the goblin anymore. They were locked onto Michael like a drawn blade.
Monopolize?
He repeated the word in his mind, tasting it like ash.
He'd chased this goblin down. Fought it tooth and nail. Bled for it.
And now this man—who hadn't even been visible during the fight—wanted him to step aside?
For fairness?
Jude didn't reply, but his silence screamed louder than any curse.
Michael hesitated, feeling the weight of Jude's stare crush the breath in his lungs. His request hadn't come from pride. He'd killed three goblins earlier, most with help. The people who'd fought beside him had managed to scrape a kill or two of their own.
Except for one.
The timid man in the corner—Lucas. He hadn't slain a single goblin. But when Michael had been distracted by one beast, another had come from behind—and Lucas, scared and shaking, had thrown himself at it to save him.
Lucas had helped others too. Backing them up, covering blind spots. But he'd never landed a final blow. Never got credit.
And now, with only one goblin left, this was the only chance to give Lucas something. A sliver of hope. A moment of victory. Proof that he could survive whatever hell this was.
Michael hadn't meant to challenge Jude. He'd seen him take down goblin after goblin, and that's why he'd asked—because he thought Jude could spare one.
But now, under the weight of that glare, he wasn't so sure.
Jude didn't know Michael's intentions. Even if he had, he wouldn't have cared.
This was his kill.
He stared past Michael, eyes scanning the others watching. Just for a second.
Then he lowered the blade to the goblin's throat and dragged it across in one clean motion.
SHHHK!
A thin arc of blood sprayed the tile. The goblin spasmed once, then went limp.
[Goblin Slain! You have been awarded 100 Shard Stones.]
[You have been awarded 20 Experience Points.]
Jude swatted the blood from his face and wiped his blade clean on his already soaked pants. Then, without a glance at Michael, he walked past him.
Michael's jaw tensed.
Jude hadn't just ignored him. He'd dismissed him entirely.
Michael's hands curled into fists. He wanted to yell. Wanted to argue.
But he didn't.
Jude had killed more goblins than anyone else. His shard count was probably double—maybe triple—Michael's by now. And it wasn't just stats.
It was the way he moved. The way he killed.
Cold. Efficient. Detached.
Picking a fight now wouldn't be brave.
It would be suicide.
So Michael stood still, silent, as resentment boiled in his chest.
Then, from above them, slow applause broke the tension.
CLAP! CLAP! CLAP!
The deliberate sound echoed through the ruined store. Gulgi stood atop the fridge, grinning.
"Well now!" the rabbit chirped, voice soaked in sarcasm. "Bravo! What a delicious little scene that was!"
He spun lazily in place, ears flopping, cloak fluttering. Then he bowed low with theatrical flair.
"Good job! Good job!" he beamed. "Honestly, I expected more of you to die. You panicked like prey—but color me impressed. You adapted. Some of you even killed like naturals!"
Michael's jaw tightened.
He looked around.
Seven people were dead.
Their bodies still lay where they'd fallen—some torn apart, others broken beyond recognition. Blood pooled between scattered groceries and shattered glass.
And Gulgi was applauding.
This thing wasn't a guide.
It was a monster.
The air shimmered. A new notification blinked into view in front of every survivor.
[Congratulations! The First Trial Has Been Successfully Completed.]
[Reward: 500 Shard Stones.]
[Bonus: For completing 50% of the objective solo, you have been awarded 200 Shard Stones.]
Jude's screen pulsed. The system highlighted his solo contribution in gold.
"Nice," he muttered.
Finally, his effort meant something.
He'd taken down six goblins alone. Fought through blood and sweat. Now he had seven stat points waiting, once he converted his shard stones.
Across the room, those who hadn't fought—those who'd hidden or just gotten lucky—also received the base reward. Their expressions shifted between confusion, relief, and guilt.
Michael checked his own screen. His bonus was smaller—no solo tag, just a few dozen extra shards.
Still, it was enough to prove something: the system wasn't random.
It had rules. Clear ones. Harsh ones.
Kill. Grow. Rise.
Cowards weren't punished—but they weren't rewarded either. You could survive in the shadows.
But you'd never climb out of them.
Michael scanned the room. Some people were already whispering about how to spend their shards. Others dropped to their knees, the adrenaline finally wearing off.
He crouched beside a wounded girl and tied off her bleeding leg. Quiet. Focused.
Meanwhile, Jude had already moved toward the far wall, scanning for movement. His blade stayed ready, posture tense.
The rabbit wasn't done.
And he was right.
Another notification appeared.
[Final Trial: Prove You're More Worthy Than Others]
Reward: Shard Stones
Reward: New Trait Unlocked
Reward: Token to the Store of the First Floor of Paradise
Mission: Kill five monsters or one fellow human to enter the tower's first level.
Silence swallowed the room.
Everyone stared at the notification, rereading the words over and over.
Kill five monsters.
Or one person.
Jude's eyes narrowed. Killing monsters didn't bother him. But *this*—this was different.
He wasn't the only one who noticed.
The others started to murmur.
"Wait... this has to be a mistake."
"They wouldn't really make us... would they?"
"This is a test, right? Like a fake choice?"
But Gulgi didn't laugh.
He leapt down from the fridge and landed soundlessly in a puddle of blood.
"The second trial," he said, voice still cheerful, "isn't about survival anymore. It's about selection."
No one spoke.
No one moved.
"The first trial taught you how to fight," Gulgi continued, turning slowly in place. His red eyes sparkled. "Now, you'll prove who deserves to move forward."
He paused.
Then smiled.
"Five demons. Or one of your own. Think of it as an entry fee. Blood in, blood up."