[1 Status Point has been granted!]
"Huh…?"
The voice that rang in his ears drowned out the pounding of Adam's heart and the sharp rhythm of his breath.
Any thoughts or memories that had been racing through his mind went silent.
For the first time, he was hearing something other than his own voice.
It felt... nice.
And just like that, the crushing weight of guilt in his chest was gone.
Will I hear the voice again if I kill more people?
Adam gasped, startled by his own thoughts.
The idea had surfaced so naturally, so easily—like a whisper slipping through a crack in his mind. He shook it off, forcing it away before it could take root.
But before another thought could replace it, glowing words flickered into existence before him.
The main reason this nightmare was called the Game.
[Name: N/A | Planet: SS4E | Strength: 1 Agility: 1 Endurance: 1 Perception: 1]
Adam stared at the screen, his mind sluggishly processing the information.
Based on Adam's limited knowledge of the Game, creeps had to kill a lot of people before the Administrator rewarded them with a single Status Point.
So why had he earned one?
Was it because Donald and Joseph were veterans—fighters already on their way to becoming Heroes?
There were other ways to gain Status Points, but ultimately, it was up to the Administrator's whims what they were. Perhaps… there was no point in thinking about this now.
Adam tilted his head, slowly raising his hand toward the glowing words. The moment his fingers hovered over the screen, the voice returned.
[Please allocate your points. Choose wisely, your fate and the fate of your world depends on it.]
"The fate of the world?" Adam whispered to himself, "I don't care about the world. I just… don't want to get hurt anymore."
All he wanted was to run.
To escape.
To never look back.
His finger hovered over Agility, hesitating for only a moment before something caught his eye.
Grace. Samantha. The two of them, locked in a trembling embrace, sobbing quietly in each other's arms.
A ripple ran through his mind, a loud drop in a still pond. Something shifted.
Something changed.
You don't know these people, Adam! We run, that's what we do! We run!
"No..."
Adam exhaled, his breath steadying.
"Maybe later. But for now—"
His finger slowly moved up, and it pressed down on Strength.
And almost instantly, a searing heat burned through his fingertip. The glowing screen suddenly wrapped around his hand, stretching and twisting until it enveloped his entire body in its translucent, blue glow.
"Urgh—!"
Adam gritted his teeth as the sensation spread.
He could feel it. His flesh shifting, reshaping.
His veins, pulsing against his skin, etched out like a glowing web.
And then—just as suddenly as it had started—it was over.
And in its place was relief. For the first time in his life, Adam felt… light.
Like the weight that had been dragging him down for years had finally lifted.
"This..." His voice cracked as he exhaled, his breath ragged. He looked down at his hands, curling his fingers into fists.
If only I knew...
If only he had known the Game could make him feel like this, he would have wanted to be summoned earlier.
He was ready to test his strength—
But a small whimper shattered his thoughts.
He turned.
Grace and Samantha were still there, still clinging to each other.
Still afraid.
"Grace," Adam whispered, crawling toward them. His eyes, filled with worry. "Are you—"
"Stay away from us!"
Grace flinched, pulling Samantha closer. Her voice trembled, but her eyes—her fearful eyes—pained Adam even more than everything he had endured so far.
He froze.
His hand, the one reaching toward them, slowly curled into a fist. Then, his gaze drifted to the side—to the metal counter beside him.
And what reflected back at him was a man drenched in blood.
A quiet gasp slipped from his lips, his breath unsteady. His fingers twitched as he struggled to form words.
"But… but I'm a good person?" He asked. Perhaps himself? Perhaps Grace?
You see, Adam? You see how people are? You had one friend. You abandoned her. And you ran away.
This is what they are. This is what you are.
Run. Let's just run.
You think being good means you'll be rewarded?
Our friend was good. Look at what she got in return.
"I…"
Adam whispered, his limbs retreating as his eyes dropped to the floor. He tried to drown out the voice in his head, but it was too loud.
It was all he could hear.
Slowly, he stood up, his movements hollow. Without looking back, he turned to walk away.
One step.
Then another—
And then, something clung to his leg.
Adam looked down.
And there was Samantha, hugging him tightly, her small body trembling.
"You're… you're okay, m-mister?" she sobbed. "They were… they were hurting you."
Adam stiffened. He reached down, gently trying to pry her away—but she wouldn't let go.
He could force her away, but he didn't want to hurt her, no. She was the last person Adam wanted to get hurt. And so—
He just let her cry.
Children are the only innocent ones in this world, Adam. Don't let this cloud your—
His thoughts stopped the moment he felt something else.
A thud against his back. Arms wrapping around him.
"I'm so sorry, Nathan. I'm so sorry."
Grace—her grip on his jacket was tight, her body shaking against him as she sobbed into his back.
"I just… I didn't mean that, okay? I was just… I was shocked."
Her fingers dug into the fabric.
"You're not a bad person, okay? You're not a bad person."
Don't believe her, Adam. She's just using you. Don't be a fool. Do you really think she'll save you when the time comes?
Adam's breath paused as he looked away.
But then—
A thought surfaced.
You say that… but hasn't she already saved me twice?
The voice inside his head fell silent. For the first time, it had nothing to say.
He stood there, unmoving, as Samantha's muffled sobs and Grace's whispers seeped through the fabric of his clothes. And for the first time in a long time—
Adam didn't feel so alone.
"You're not a bad person," Grace repeated, shaking her head as she tightened her grip on Adam. "Never... never think you're a bad person for trying to save my daughter. Please... you can't leave this room believing that, okay? You're not a bad person. Thank you. Thank you for saving my daughter."
"Mister's not a bad person!" Samantha cried out, her small voice desperate.
Adam closed his eyes, inhaling the deepest breath he could. When he exhaled, it came out slow, steady.
"I'm... not a bad person."
He nodded to himself, then finally turned to face Grace.
She was close—so close he could feel the warmth of her breath mixing with his. Her eyes, no longer filled with fear, reflected his own. She smiled softly, wiping her tears and shaking her head.
"I'm sorry. I... didn't mean to say that."
"No, I understand."
Adam glanced down at his hand, still coated in blood. Then, without a word, he shrugged off his jacket and draped it gently over Grace's shoulders, covering what Donald had torn away.
"I... hope you don't mind the blood."
"N-no. Not at all."
She shook her head quickly, slipping her arms into the sleeves without hesitation. Then she crouched, pulling Samantha close and checking her for any wounds.
Meanwhile, Adam scanned the kitchen before making his way to the sink.
You're going to regret this, Adam. There's a reason you avoided people for so long.
It doesn't matter. I… want to do this now.
His thoughts churned as he scrubbed his hands, pressing the soap dispenser over and over, lathering and rubbing until his skin burned. It was probably useless. The blood would return.
But he needed to feel clean.
As he washed, one of the people who had been hiding in the kitchen cautiously stepped forward.
"You... you were a Hero?"
Adam glanced at the woman, then shook his head. "No."
"Stop... stop lying!" She raised her voice, her hands trembling as she waved them. "What else could you be but a Hero!? Why... why didn't you step in earlier!? That veteran wouldn't have died for nothing!"
Her words sent a ripple through the others.
"That's right! You could have saved him!"
I told you, Adam. This is who they are. They have a point—but so what? Those two Heroes from earlier were right. You have no obligation to help any of them.
Grace started to move, ready to step between Adam and the growing voices. But before she could, Adam simply turned off the faucet and faced the others himself… and they immediately shrank back.
Gulps and sharp breaths filled the silence as they met his gaze. Their earlier anger flickered into something else. Something colder—Fear.
How stupid can they be?