Chapter 9 – How the Game Began
In the real world, the room was silent. Only the heavy breathing of the unconscious girl filled the space. She was pale, her lips dry, her body thin... too thin. She lay in bed.
The door slowly creaked open, echoing through the room. A foot in a luxurious shoe appeared. Then, the silhouette of a man in a white suit was revealed. He had come to see his daughter.
Sitting beside the bed, he gently stroked a strand of the girl's hair. His eyes held back tears of pain and despair. He kissed her forehead.
"You'll get better soon, my daughter... Your mother and I will wait for that day. I will never give up on you."
His voice was full of emotion, and finally, the tears overflowed. He could no longer hold back the sobs.
His mind drifted into a memory from seven years ago.
The smell of medicine and blood lingered in the air. The hospital corridor was busy. Nurses rushed around, pressured to save a single life. The man in the white suit stood still, crying, consumed by despair. His voice was urgent and intense. Inside the treatment room, he pleaded with the nurses to save his wife, no matter the cost.
Hours passed, but there was no progress. His hands trembled, eyes wide. The desperation grew. He took two heavy steps toward one of the doctors. His face showed a mix of rage and pain — he was about to lose his wife before his very eyes, unable to do anything.
The nurses stopped, frightened by his emotional state. He approached the chief medical officer. The doctor swallowed hard, his brows twitching.
In a sudden motion, the man grabbed the doctor by the neck with force. The others just watched, frozen.
"Why?! Why haven't you saved her yet? Why isn't she waking up?!"
His voice echoed down the hall, loud and desperate.
The suffocating doctor answered,
"Sir! We did everything we could, but... we haven't identified the illness. We've never seen anything like it. We've examined several people, but... your wife's disease is... unknown..."
The doctor's voice was shaky, barely audible through the chokehold. The man, in tears, threw the doctor against the wall.
Crack...
The dry sound of a rib breaking echoed in the silence. The doctor tried to hold in a scream as heat spread through his injured body. Colleagues rushed to help. The man dropped to his knees beside his unconscious wife — pale, dry-lipped — begging, through sobs, for a way to save her.
"Get out... all of you... leave now!"
He shouted, his voice filled with command and anguish.
The nurses obeyed. They carried their injured colleague out and slammed the door behind them.
---
Hours later, in his luxurious mansion surrounded by pools, empty bottles littered the space. The air was thick with the smell of alcohol and cigarettes. The man stood on the top-floor balcony, watching the city and the passing cars.
With a glass of expensive wine in one hand and a cigarette in the other, his condition was pitiful. Tears streamed down his face. Slowly, he raised the cigarette to his lips and tried to light it.
TIC. TIC.
The lighter sparked, but a gust of wind blew out the flame. Then, the silence was broken by a strange sound.
Shlach...
The bottles rolled across the floor.
Glan. Glan.
The man turned slowly and saw something impossible. A being with red hair, piercing red eyes, and two short horns. He wore a red and white cloak that fluttered in the wind.
It was Kratos, the Demon King.
"Incredible... This is all so magnificent... These tall structures are amazing," said Kratos, excitedly admiring the buildings. The man, frozen, trembled before the figure he never imagined could exist. His glass fell to the floor, red wine staining his white suit.
"Who are you? Are you the devil? You're not taking my wife!"
He shouted, throwing the cigarette at Kratos.
Kratos, indifferent, kept admiring the buildings.
"I want this... I need this too. I want all of this for myself," he said, with a look of ambition.
"Who the hell are you? What do you want from me?!"
The man shouted again, desperate.
Kratos looked at him. The air grew tense. The demon's gaze was intense and full of thrill.
"You have wealth, money... yet you're desperate for just one thing. It's pathetic... and so human," he said, seriously, walking closer.
"Tell me—what are you? What do you want from me?!"
The man repeated, trembling, heart pounding.
"I can heal your wife. Give her a second chance. But in return, I'll ask something from you," Kratos declared firmly.
"Liar! You're the devil! How would you save my wife?!"
The man screamed in panic.
"I'll give her a bit of Elixir. She'll become healthy and strong again. That is... if you accept my proposal," said Kratos, now standing close.
"What does this Elixir do?"
The man asked, swallowing hard, his voice nearly inaudible.
"Take me to her. Don't worry. There's nothing the Elixir can't fix," Kratos said confidently.
Despite his fear, the man led him to his wife's room.
She was breathing with difficulty. Her lips were dry, her body pale and frail. Kratos entered, curiously observing the walls.
"This place is magnificent..." he commented, fascinated by human architecture.
"Can you heal her?"
The man asked anxiously.
Kratos touched her forehead. Her body was cold, her pulse weak.
"What your wife has is not a normal disease. It's a curse passed down through generations. She will sleep forever... unless she receives the Elixir. Now, will you listen to me?"
Kratos asked, looking him in the eyes.
The man collapsed to his knees, crying.
"Please... give me the Elixir! I'll give you everything I have! All my fortune! Just give it to me, please!"
"I don't want your money. I want you to build giant towers, luxurious homes... in my world, the Demon Realm. Make it look like this world. When you're done, I'll give you the Elixir," Kratos said with a sarcastic smile.
The man accepted.
---
Three years later, in the Demon Realm, the city had become modern. The technology was similar to the human world. Skyscrapers stood tall. Kratos watched his new city from above, satisfied.
Meanwhile, in the human world, the man held a vial with a glowing red liquid — the promised Elixir. With trembling hands and tears in his eyes, he gave it to his bedridden wife.
The liquid sparkled. Her skin regained color. Her eyes opened. Her lips healed.
The man embraced her, crying.
"You're okay! You're okay!"
"What happened? Why are you crying? Where's our daughter?"
She asked, confused.
"She's... she's waiting for you."
---
One year later, in the family's luxurious living room, the smell of food filled the air. Their daughter played happily. Suddenly, her body froze. Her eyes slowly closed.
"Sweetheart?! Sweetheart, what's happening?!"
The man shouted, panicking.
The girl collapsed to the floor, unconscious. The curse was now upon her. Despair returned.
His wife ran from the kitchen and saw their daughter in his arms. Using a magical ring, she opened a blue portal. The man stepped through, entering the Demon Realm.
Kratos sat on his throne.
"Hello, my friend... What brings you here?"
The man dropped to his knees, crying, begging for one more drop of Elixir.
"Our deal was fair. I kept my word. The Elixir is the source of balance in my world. If it runs out... my world dies," Kratos said coldly.
The man begged again. He promised everything — even to become a servant. Kratos raised his arms. Blue lights appeared.
"You were useful. But I no longer need humans. Go... and don't return," he said before teleporting the man back.
Back in the human world, the man clenched his fists in despair. He created a magical barrier that blocked demons from entering but allowed humans to pass into the Demon Realm.
He knelt beside his daughter.
"I promise... I'll never give up on you. I swear..."
---
Months later, every TV screen in the city went black. People were confused. Then, a message appeared:
> "This is your chance. Your only chance. Sign up. Join. Don't waste time. This is your time to shine. Come to the Game. Bring the Elixir. Win 2 billion dollars."
People were mesmerized.
And that's how it all began...
THE GAME — the fight for survival.