"...Shoot here."
"Huh…" Muzan tilted his head as he returned Adam's stare. And after a few moments, a scoff escaped his covered lips as he said, "...You think I won't do it? I've killed people for—"
"Ah! There you are!"
Before Muzan could finish his sentence, a woman's voice suddenly rang out from the crowd. Everyone turned their heads, searching for the source—Adam didn't need to. He recognized her immediately.
Grace, the woman who was trying to find her daughter.
"I'm… I'm really sorry, Mr. Muzan!" She said, lowering her head as she grabbed Adam by the shoulders, "He's… not a scavenger! He's my brother. I… he gets cold easily so he wears a lot of clothes! What are you doing? We're supposed to stick together!"
Muzan wanted to say something, but Grace already dragged Adam away. Still, the head of his arrow followed Adam's back—and everyone waited if he was going to shoot him or not. They all stared at his fingers, which felt like they would let loose the arrow at any moment.
"Stop." But before anything could actually happen, Hilda's large hammer blocked Muzan's view. Muzan did not really say anything at all and just looked at Hilda, who immediately gestured him to look up at the clock. But before he could do so, the Administrator's voice once again resounded throughout the entire city.
[Troops deploying in three minutes. Get ready!]
Muzan shot Hilda a glare before clicking his tongue in annoyance. With a flick of his fingers, the arrow in his grasp disintegrated into nothing.
Without another word, the two turned and walked away, the crowd instinctively parting for them.
They passed effortlessly through the invisible wall—the same barrier the desperate masses had spent their effort pounding against with fists and feet, to no avail.
Christopher sprinted after them, only to slam face-first into the invisible wall preventing the creeps from leaving their spawn before the game started.
"W… wait!" He shouted, pounding his fists against the air as if sheer force could break through. "Isn't one of you at least going to stay behind and defend our crystal!?"
"Heh…" Hilda glanced over her shoulder, a smirk curling on her lips. "Just shut up and watch how we win this Game."
Hilda seemed to be in a good mood, but for some reason, she suddenly groaned and started complaining,
"Tch, I can't even believe I was summoned again—I thought I only had to do this once after I became a Hero, fuck. Do you know there's supposed to be less than a 5% chance now for us to be summoned every month? And I've been summoned three times in the last 3 years!"
Muzan, who was walking quietly beside her, glanced at her with his eyebrows lowered and asked, "Where did you get those numbers?"
"Google, duh."
And with that, the two Heroes vanished into the thickening smoke, leaving the rest of them behind.
There was nothing anyone could do but watch.
With only three minutes left until the Game began, Christopher and the other members of the IBAA called for the crowd to gather again.
"Everyone! You know the drill!" He motioned toward the two sections of people. "Since the number of veteran creeps and first-timers is equal, you all need to form groups of six! Half from this side, half from this side! Veterans, protect the newbies! And newbies, support the veterans however you can!"
A few immediately started following his orders, but murmurs of dissent spread through the crowd.
"Psh. Why do we need to do that?"
"Are you stupid? If we all die, our team's chances of winning go straight to hell!"
"The Heroes will decide the outcome of this game. Just shut the fuck up."
Chaos erupted as the group splintered—some following orders, others blatantly ignoring them. Many of the veterans, much like Muzan and Hilda, chose to disregard the IBAA entirely, banding together in self-made groups to ensure their own survival.
Christopher clenched his jaw, watching the disorder unfold around him. The only thing he could do now was bite his lip and hope for the best.
Their deaths were on the line, and yet all they could think about were themselves.
"Everyone!" Christopher winced as more and more veterans turned away, unwilling to listen. "Please, we need to work together!"
"Can't we just stay here!? I don't want to fight!"
"I wish we could, really. But we can't." Christopher pointed at the towering ceiling of the dome. "If we don't move forward, if we don't fight, the Administrators themselves will come down and burn us alive. We can only retreat if we truly need to. That's the rule, and it's a fucking stupid rule. You need to march, you need to fight—and most importantly, you cannot hesitate. Hesitation means death."
He took a deep breath, scanning the crowd, his voice turning grimmer.
"The people out there? The ones with blue halos floating above their heads?" His hand clenched into a fist. "Right now, someone is giving them the same speech I'm giving you. And I'll tell you exactly what they're being told…
…They will kill you.
It's not personal. It's survival. If you hesitate, even for a second, you die. I know this isn't easy. I know most of you have never even killed an animal, let alone a person. But if you don't kill them… they will kill you."
A heavy silence fell over the crowd. Even some of the veterans lowered their heads, closing their eyes as memories of their first Game resurfaced.
Christopher exhaled and pointed forward, toward the distant blue beacon of light.
"We march there," he continued, "Our job as creeps is to support the Heroes, to help them destroy the Outer Crystal resting beneath that blue light. Once that's gone, the enemy creeps from the Middle Crystal will be deployed.
We push forward and take them down, and we take their crystal! And then finally, the Inner Crystal.
And if we make it that far, if we actually survive the creeps and destroy the Inner Crystal… the last step is to destroy the enemy's Spawn Crystal. That's… that's how we win."
Christopher's voice started to waver, as he knew the chances of that were slim. But still, he continued.
"And if we do…When we do win and survive, we offer our silent prayers to those who didn't make it and ask forgiveness for the people we killed."
[Deploying troops in 5… 4… 3… 2… 1.]
"So, let's survive it."
With those words, the veterans roared and surged forward. The invisible wall that had caged them in was gone.
But the newer creeps remained frozen, their eyes wide with shock as they watched most of the veterans rush ahead, leaving them behind to form their own ragtag groups. There was no choice but to move forward—staying behind, refusing to fight, would only lead to death.
The Game had no mercy for creeps.
They were nothing but disposable soldiers.
A fickle and unreasonable game.
Meanwhile, Adam found himself stuck with Grace, who still hadn't let go of his arm.
"Thank you for saving me," Adam whispered, glancing down at her hands, which were tightly wrapped around his forearm. "But… you can let go now. I'm not a special needs case if that's what you're thinking. You don't have to protect me."
Grace ignored his words entirely, stepping even closer to him. "What's your name?"
"Nathan." Adam lied without hesitation.
He feared Dr. Aniston and her people more than the Heroes themselves. It was safer this way, because he knew that the hospital most probably had investigated him already. But as he met Grace's gaze, he could tell she wasn't fooled. She narrowed her eyes, as if she saw right through him—but instead of calling him out, she simply smiled, patted his chest, and said,
"Well, Nathan—since I saved you, you owe me. I need your help finding my daughter. I'll be honest with you upfront; I am using you. And… I'm sure you'll have other… other uses for me too. And I'll let you do whatever—"
"Stop. What if your daughter's on the other team?" Adam asked, his voice low.
"She's not." Grace's response was immediate, her head shaking before he could even finish his sentence. But the way her grip tightened betrayed her confidence. "She's not. She's out here somewhere, I know it. There's just… too many people. We need to—"
"What the hell are you two doing!?"
Before Grace could finish, a group of people approached them, their red halos glowing brighter than most—veterans. They had already earned points, already fought, already killed.
"You need to move before an Administrator comes down and wipes us all out!" One of the veterans barked, stepping forward. "Do you two even have a group yet!?"
"We… don't," Grace admitted, her grip on Adam's arm tightening even more as she looked up at him. "Can… we join you? It's our first time here, and we really—"
"Stop." The veteran let out a heavy sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose before shaking his head.
"Fine. You can come with us—but listen up. You follow our every command, no hesitation. If you slow us down, we leave you behind. Understand?"