One day, two days, three days.
A week.
Five kills, two kills, seven kills, no kills, four kills, one kill.
Another day, another fight.
The occasional day without a fight.
Gradually, Alesha got used to putting her life on the line every day, pushing herself to her limits in pursuit of kills.
10 XP per human killed.
Varying XP for nonhuman kills; for most things, especially monsters, it was greater.
However, there were precious few of those.
100 XP was required to reach level X1 -- that is, to reach level 1, 11, 21, 31, etc., it would require 100 XP. Then, 200 XP to reach level X2, 300 for level X3, 400 for level X4, and so on.
In other words, 5500 total XP was required to level up from one number ending in 0 to the next (0 to 10, 10 to 20, etc.).
550 humans.
That's how many humans she would need to kill in order to evolve from whichever X0 level she was at before this all had started.
She could probably figure out what level she was exactly, but she didn't care to; when the XP requirement remained the same no matter which multiple of 10 she was on, did it really matter?
Rolling over in her sheets, she felt despondent.
Was there even a point in trying to evolve at this point?
Unless she was placed alone in a field chock-full of inexperienced, helpless people during a match, she'd never be able to get enough XP before the Storytelling Games ended.
[Oy oy! Snap out of it!] The System's annoying, gender-neutral voice called again. It had been trying to forcefully pull her out of her emotional slump all day.
Alesha never could understand why it had never sounded like a robot, even after it had explained it was born from her chemistry knowledge. Why was its voice so natural?
[Come on! I'm sick of your sulking already! Agh, man, I really wish I could kick you in the gut right now. Some physical trauma might do you some good. Get UP!]
Weren't Systems supposed to… not be alive? Shouldn't a System just be a set of cheat-level modifications that bent reality in her favor?
[I'm offended that you think so little of me. Should I call you a stupid bag of flesh and bones that's only meant to eat, poop, sleep and make babies??]
Why was hers so bossy?
[So sue me for having a personality!! Get up, you dullard! Limbless space slug! Useless pile of regret!]
She squirmed deeper into her blankets and pulled her pillow over her head, fully aware of how futile the effort would be. No physical means could drown out a voice that could speak directly into your mind.
[Trying to ignore me, are you?! Hey! I'm just trying to help! Hey! Listen!]
Alesha remained silent.
[... Man, tough crowd. Nobody appreciates a little fairy wisdom anymore.]
"You're not a fairy," Alesha grumbled into her too-soft bed.
Its softness made her wonder: why were the Participants given such excellent treatment?
[Duh. I knew that. You're just- never mind, I give up.]
What was the deal with the soft beds, sumptuous meals, well-stocked training facilities and even the hot tub (which Alesha had only visited once)?
[Sulk all you want.]
They were all going to die anyway, so why bother to treat the Participants so well?
[Just don't go complaining to me when things go to sh*t because you gave up.]
Unless… there was another motive?
Her mind shied away from considering that. Surely that was the case, but she didn't dare speculate. Not when she was already in a fragile state of mind. Zorhellian's sadistic thought processes were not ones that she desired to understand anytime soon, or ever.
Instead, she returned to her earlier line of thought:
Kill 550 humans to acquire 5500 XP.
At an average of 3 kills per day, it would take her a bit less than 200 days to kill the required amount of people.
Six months, nearly seven.
Two other Stories had lasted that long, so maybe there was a chance this one would, too?
She didn't want to get her hopes up.
As if it hadn't just been in a one-sided argument with her, the System piped up in an overly cheerful voice:
[Come on, let's think positively! Just a little here and there, ya know, it adds up! And let's be real here, you don't have the full amount remaining. You've only got 380 left!]
Shut up! Don't you dare jinx it by focusing on what's left! Focus only on what has already been done.
[Ah, heavens! Woe is me! I have forgotten the Scouts' most wisest of wisdoms. Forgive me, oh fair lady, for breaching this superstition most ominous!]
Ew, what is even up with you?? Just go back to normal, you twerp.
--
The next day, Alesha heard news that Natalia had been killed in her most recent match. She'd been put up against the worst opponent for a mage: a close-combat fighter mostly immune to magic. It hadn't even been a long fight; Natalia had apparently only had time to shoot off a spell or two before her face was smashed in and it was over.
After that, people she fought alongside, even in temporary teams that were (supposedly) randomly assigned, kept dying.
Perhaps it was inevitable due to the nature of this Story, but it started taking its toll on Alesha.
She hated it.
She hated how the people she fought alongside became faces and names that existed only in her memory.
At the same time, what she hated more was that she didn't completely hate it.
She hated how unfeeling she was when she'd found out that Natalia died.
Then Hatil, and Lotte', and Victoria.
Their deaths, while unfortunate, made her feel only slightly regretful, not truly sad. It was even worse with people she didn't know; she just couldn't bring herself to care.
She wondered what could be wrong with her.
Why couldn't she feel sad about their deaths? At the very least, shouldn't she mourn Victoria, whom she'd known the longest and been comforted by during a panic attack?
But she didn't.
What's more, Collin still lived, and she wasn't sure how she felt about that. Should she wish he'd switched deaths with one of the others, so that the reminder of her trauma would be out of sight forever; or should she be glad there was no longer a chance she'd have to kill someone she was attached to with her own hands?
Part of her acknowledged and was grateful that she didn't have to face off against the few people she actually cared about, which seemed rather uncharacteristic of Zorhellian; it should have been a sadistic pleasure he couldn't pass up, if he were continuing to target her specifically.
Had he moved on? Had he finally decided to stop tormenting her? If that were the case, it would explain her recent success.
However, this small benefit seemed paltry compared to the weight of her impossible goal.
All her energy was spent trying to get as much XP as possible while trying to maintain her drive to evolve. She just didn't have the emotional room to add more on top of that.
Considering how long and how hard she'd been running, in terms of emotional ups and downs since the System attached itself to her, she was nearing her limit.
Alesha didn't know what would happen if she hit that limit.
But she sure as hell didn't have the luxury to slow down now -- not when every day put her life on the line.
She had to win this. Or die trying.