The sound of whizzing air split the night.
Swish—Thud!
A crude wooden arrow lodged itself into a tree trunk, exactly two centimeters from Udin's left ear. The vibration shook bark fragments onto Udin's shoulder. If Udin had moved even slightly to the left, that object would have pierced his skull.
"Missed," hissed Septian from the darkness, lowering his makeshift bow with feigned disappointment. "Damn sea wind. Disturbing the aesthetics of my arrow's trajectory."
Udin didn't flinch. Adrenaline flooded his body, masking the post-injection fatigue. He dropped into a Zenkutsu Dachi stance, shielding Salma and Alya behind him.
"One more step, I break your neck," Udin threatened. His voice was low, like a cornered tiger's growl.
Behind Septian, two male members of Group 23 stepped forward brandishing sharpened wooden sticks. They looked hesitant, but the fear of elimination made them reckless. Behind them, a female figure was seen hugging herself, trembling.
It was Adel. The theater member who was also a Student Council officer under Salma.
"Septian... stop it..." Adel squeaked, eyes wet. "They're our friends... Sis Salma is our president..."
"Quiet, Del," Septian cut her off without turning. "On this stage, there is no Student Council President. There is only prey."
Septian pulled a second arrow from his back. This time, he aimed at Udin's chest. The distance was less than ten meters. At this range, Udin might be able to charge, but the risk of being stabbed by Septian's lackeys' spears was too high.
Salim, standing beside Rehan, had a brain spinning at supercomputer processor speeds. He calculated variables.
* Enemy weapons: 3 (1 ranged, 2 melee).
* Our weapons: 0 (only brittle wooden sticks).
* Physical condition: Udin 80%, the rest 40%.
* Probability of winning physical confrontation: 15%.
* Probability of fatal injury: 85%.
Fighting now was suicide. They needed an exit strategy.
Salim stepped forward, raising both hands high. Not surrendering, but demanding attention.
"Wait!" Salim shouted.
Septian held his bowstring draw. "Want to beg? Or want to recite a final poem?"
"I want to save your life, Fool," Salim said calmly, staring Septian straight in the eye.
Septian laughed dismissively. "My life? You guys are the ones without weapons."
"Did you read 'Rules' Article III?" Salim asked quickly, his voice full of fake confidence (bluffing). "'Stay not in one spot, or the sky will rage'. You think that's just about the red zone? You misinterpreted it."
Salim pointed up, toward the surveillance drone humming faintly in the night sky, barely visible.
"The system detects us still in the Spawn Area. In the Game Theory of survival game design, killing in the start area before the 1-hour tolerance time expires is a game balance violation," Salim lied fluently, mixing gaming terminology with his own logic.
"If you kill us here, now," Salim continued, pressing every word, "The System will consider it Spawn Camping. The punishment from the sky isn't artillery, but instant point deduction to zero. Do you want your neck to explode along with ours?"
Septian froze. His bow lowered slightly. Doubt crept onto his arrogant face. As a literature student, he was used to interpreting text, but he was blind to game mechanics. Salim exploited that gap of ignorance.
"Look at your tablet," Salim bluffed. "Your points have dropped drastically for staying here, right?"
It was a general fact (points drop every minute), but in the context of Salim's bluff, it sounded like a system warning.
Septian glanced at his tablet. His point number was indeed dropping. -1... -1...
"Tch," Septian lowered his bow completely. He didn't want to risk a foolish death over a rule violation he didn't understand.
"You're lucky, Mathematician," Septian said coldly. He signaled his subordinates to retreat. "We'll meet again in the free zone. By then, there will be no technical excuses."
Septian turned, looking at Adel who was still crying. "Move, Adel! Don't be a burden!"
Group 23 retreated slowly, disappearing behind the mangrove bushes to the east. Adel glanced back once, looking at Salma with apologetic eyes, before being forcefully pulled by her friend.
Once they vanished from sight, Salma's legs gave out. She almost fell if not for Alya holding her.
"You're crazy, Lim," Rehan sighed, exhaling deeply. "Spawn camping theory? You made that up, right?"
"One hundred percent made up," Salim admitted, wiping cold sweat from his forehead. "But people like Septian fear the System more than God. Let's move. My lie won't hold up for long once he realizes his points keep dropping everywhere."
"Where to?" Udin asked.
"Opposite direction. Deeper into the forest. Find high ground," Salim ordered.
They moved quickly through the wilderness of Island 0. Without machetes, without flashlights. Relying only on moonlight and survival instincts. Tree branches slapped their faces, thorny bushes tore their expensive Rajawali High uniforms. Salma and Alya's loafers were caked in mud, making their steps heavy.
They walked for an hour nonstop, moving away from the coast. Their breath came in ragged gasps, throats feeling dry like sandpaper.
Finally, they found a small alcove under the roots of a giant banyan tree growing on a sloping cliff. The place was hidden enough and sheltered from the wind.
"Rest," Salim said, dropping himself to the ground.
They all collapsed. Physical exhaustion began to hammer their mental state.
"Thirsty..." Rehan moaned. He licked his cracked lips. "I need a drink. Anyone bring water?"
Everyone shook their heads.
Alya, sitting leaning against a tree root, checked her friends' conditions. Her medical instinct worked automatically.
"We're dehydrated," Alya said, her voice hoarse. "That injection earlier accelerated metabolism. We're sweating excessively. Without water intake in the next 6 hours, our cognitive functions will drop 30%. Hallucinations, muscle cramps, acute kidney failure."
Alya looked at Salim. "Especially you, Lim. The brain needs glucose and water the most. If you collapse, we're blind."
Salim sat cross-legged, turning on his tablet. The screen light illuminated his dirty and serious face. He opened the SHOP menu.
"Mineral water 600ml... 200 Points," Salim read.
He looked at the point balance in the top left corner.
POINTS: 940.
An hour passed, 60 points lost to time.
"There are five of us," Salim began his brutal calculation. "One person needs a minimum of 2 bottles of water a day in this tropical climate. That's 400 points per person. Total 2,000 points per day just for drinking. Haven't eaten yet. Bread is 300 points."
Salma looked at Salim, starting to understand the direction of this conversation. "Lim..."
"Listen to me," Salim cut in, eyes glued to the numbers on the screen. "Our capital now is 940 points. If we buy 1 bottle of water for each person now, our remaining points will be... minus 60. We explode."
Silence. That number was a death sentence.
"We can pool together," Udin suggested innocently. "Buy one bottle, share it."
"That only delays death by a few hours, Din," Salim refuted. "Tomorrow morning our points will be consumed by time. Remember, 'Whose wallet is empty, their neck shall sever'. Zero points means death."
Salim placed his tablet on the ground. He looked at his friends one by one. Tired faces he had known for three years.
"The math is simple," Salim said coldly. "Inflation on this island is thousands of percent. The cost of living is greater than passive income. The only way to increase balance is... external revenue."
"You mean..." Salma's voice trembled. "We have to apply Article II? 'Seize from the opponent'?"
Salim nodded slowly. "Yes. We have to kill other groups. Or at least, incapacitate them and force a point transfer."
"No!" Salma refused loudly. "We are not murderers, Salim! We are students! There must be another way. We can find natural water sources. Udin can find fruits!"
"Natural water sources will be predator gathering points, Sal," Salim debated. "Rinto's group, Raka's group, they surely control the river already. And about fruits? Do you know which fruits are poisonous or not in this godforsaken forest? If Alya misdiagnoses even a little, we die of poisoning."
"But killing..." Salma shook her head, tears of frustration pooling in her eyes. "That's a sin, Lim. That's criminal."
Salim stood up, walking closer to Salma. He grabbed the Student Council President's shoulders with a strong grip.
"Salma, wake up," Salim said, his tone harsh. "Look at your uniform. Look at the mud on your shoes. School is gone. Student Council rules don't apply here. Here, morality is a luxury we cannot buy."
Salim pointed toward the dark forest.
"Septian earlier... he already killed his own friend. Rinto? I'm sure he won't hesitate to sacrifice others. If we stay naive, if we stick to the principle of 'we are good students', we will be the first corpses found tomorrow morning."
Alya looked down, playing with her fingers. "Salim is right, Sal," she whispered softly. "Medically... triage in disasters requires us to prioritize those who can survive. We must prioritize our own lives."
Udin punched the ground. "I hate this. But I hate seeing you guys die even more. If there must be dirty hands... let them be mine."
Rehan, who had been silent hugging his knees, finally spoke. "I don't want to die foolishly here, Sal. I want my laptop back. I want revenge on the bastards who kidnapped us. And to do that... we need points."
Salma looked at the four of them. She saw determination in Salim's eyes, resignation in Alya's, loyalty in Udin's, and fear in Rehan's.
Salma's fortress of morality crumbled slowly. She realized, as a leader, her main duty wasn't to maintain rules, but to maintain her members' lives.
"Okay," Salma said finally, her voice hoarse. "Okay. We play this crazy game."
She looked at Salim. "But there is one condition. We don't kill unless attacked first. We incapacitate, we take their points, we leave them. Let the system handle the rest. I don't want our hands stained with blood directly."
"Agreed," Salim answered. It was a fair compromise. For now.
Salim sat back down, picking up a twig and starting to draw a rough map on the ground based on his glimpse of the tablet earlier.
"Our strategy changes. We are no longer Survivors. We are Hunters," Salim said. His eyes glinted in the darkness, reflecting the manipulator side starting to awaken.
"We don't have the muscle to fight Rinto or Raka. We don't have weapons like Septian. But we have this," Salim pointed to his head.
"We will trap them. We will use their greed and fear as weapons."
Salim looked at Rehan. "Han, you said these tablets are connected to the intranet?"
"Yeah," Rehan answered.
"Can you create a glitch? Something that makes our signal look 'weak' or 'dying' on other people's maps? Digital bait."
Rehan thought for a moment, then smirked thinly. His first smile since arriving on this island. "Without a laptop, it's hard. But if I can access Developer Mode through a booting button combination... maybe I can make our signal blink like a broken neon light. That will attract attention."
"Good," Salim nodded. "Udin, prepare physical traps around here. Use roots, rocks, anything. Alya, remember the itchy plants we passed earlier? Get the leaves. We need chemical weapons."
"Salma," Salim turned to his leader. "You be the visual bait. You look the most 'weak' and valuable in their eyes. The helpless Student Council President."
Salma nodded firmly, her face hardening. "I'm ready."
That night, under the banyan tree roots, Group 27 didn't sleep. They transformed. The hunger and thirst torturing them were no longer complaints, but fuel for focused anger.
Salim looked at the leaf-covered sky. He remembered Maya's promise. You must remain yourself.
Sorry, May, Salim thought. Tonight, I have to lose a little part of myself so my friends can see the sunrise.
The first hunting plan was set. Their target wasn't just any group. Salim targeted Group 12, a group he saw on the map moving erratically and separated. Easy prey to train their killer instincts.
Tomorrow, Island 0 would witness the birth of the new Salim. The Manipulator.