The morning sun on Island 0 brought no warmth. Its pale rays pierced through the gaps in the tropical rainforest canopy, creating shadow patterns that deceived the eye. Water vapor condensed on the leaves, dripping onto the damp ground, becoming the only source of water for small insects crawling on the tree roots.
For Group 27, this morning was the hardest morning of their lives.
They didn't sleep. Throughout the night, they took turns keeping watch in two-hour shifts. Hunger began to gnaw at their stomachs like termites eating wood. Their throats were parched dry.
Salim sat on a mossy rock, his hollow eyes staring at the tablet screen.
POINTS: 340.
Their time was running out. Less than six hours before their points reached zero and the collars on their necks detonated their carotid arteries.
"Rehan, signal status?" Salim asked, his voice hoarse.
Rehan, squatting behind a bush with the tablet on his lap, gave a weak thumbs up. "I've activated the script. Our GPS signal is now blinking on the global map. Sometimes appearing at these coordinates, sometimes shifting 50 meters north. To other groups, we look like a glitch or a dying signal."
"Good," Salim nodded. "That's our bait. Predator groups will definitely be curious about a weak signal. They'll think we're easy prey."
"But Lim," Salma interrupted, her face dull and covered in dust. "What if the ones who come aren't the weak Group 12? What if it's Raka or Rinto? We're finished."
"That's a calculated risk, Sal," Salim answered coldly. "In desperate conditions, we can't choose our buyers. We can only set up shop and hope the customer who arrives has a thick wallet but no gun."
Suddenly, Udin who was prone in a scout position (about 10 meters in front of them) gave a hand signal.
Fist. Two fingers pointing down.
Enemy. Few.
Salim, Salma, Alya, and Rehan immediately scattered to their designated hiding spots. Salim behind a large tree, holding a fist-sized rock. Alya holding a handful of sand (to throw in eyes). Rehan prone in a thorny bush.
Footsteps were heard. Not the stealthy steps of a hunter. But dragging, heavy, desperate steps.
Rustle... Thud. Rustle...
Then, the sound of soft crying.
A female figure emerged from behind a giant fern. Her uniform—white shirt and gray skirt—was torn at the shoulder and knee. Her long, beautiful hair was now tangled, full of dry twigs. Her face was bruised on the left cheek, and there was dried blood at the corner of her lips.
She walked staggering, as if her legs could no longer support her body.
She collapsed right in the middle of their trap area.
"Help..." the girl moaned. Her voice cracked. "Anyone... help..."
Udin, who was closest, was stunned. He recognized the girl.
Salma recognized her too. Her eyes widened. She was about to run out from hiding, but Salim held her back with a sharp gaze. Wait. Analyze first.
The girl was Adelia Pratiwi. Adel.
The Student Council's 2nd Secretary. The school's best Theater Club member. And a member of Group 23 (Septian's Group).
Adel tried to get up, but fell again. She cried hysterically, hugging herself. "Septian is crazy... Septian is evil..." Adel rambled.
Salma's heart couldn't take it anymore. She swatted Salim's hand away. "That's Adel, Lim! She's hurt!"
Salma ran out from behind the tree toward Adel. Alya followed with her medical instinct.
"Adel!" Salma called.
Adel looked up. Upon seeing Salma, her crying broke out even louder. She crawled and hugged Salma's legs tightly.
"Sis Salma... Sis Salma..." Adel sobbed. "Help me, Sis... Don't let them find me..."
Salim and Udin came out of hiding, but they didn't lower their guard. Udin kept holding his wooden staff, his eyes scanning the forest behind Adel. Salim stood at a safe distance, observing Adel with a scrutinizing gaze.
"Alya, check her physical condition," Salim ordered flatly.
Alya knelt, examining the bruise on Adel's face. "This is blunt force trauma. Fresh. Maybe less than two hours. There are scratches on her arms, looks like thorns from running. Her pulse is very fast. She's in shock."
"Who did this, Del?" Salma asked gently, stroking her secretary's hair.
"Septian..." Adel answered between sobs. "Septian and Keila... they're crazy, Sis. Last night... they killed Tommy. I saw it myself. Septian stabbed Tommy with wood just because Tommy sprained his ankle and couldn't walk fast."
The story was consistent with what Group 27 saw last night (when Septian killed/left his member).
"And then?" Salim prodded.
"Then this morning..." Adel swallowed hard, her body trembling violently. "Septian said our points were still not enough. He... he told me to be bait to attract the surveillance drone so it would get shot down, so he could take the loot box from the fallen drone. He said 'the sacrifice of one for the safety of the king'."
"Bastard," Udin cursed, jaw hardening. "That guy is truly a demon."
"I refused... then he hit me..." Adel pointed to her bruised cheek. "I ran as hard as I could when they were off guard. I ran blindly until my legs hurt... Help me, Sis... I don't want to die..."
Salma hugged Adel, providing warmth. "Calm down, Del. You're safe with us. We're not like them."
Salim was still unconvinced. He walked around Adel.
"Del," Salim called. "You alone? Sure no one followed?"
"I don't know, Brother Salim..." Adel answered, looking at Salim with round, wet, innocent eyes. "I ran in circles. I think I managed to lose the trail."
"How did you find us?" Salim asked again, the question sharp as a razor. "This forest is vast. The probability of you running randomly and finding us is zero point something percent."
Adel paused for a moment. She reached into her skirt pocket, pulling out her tablet with a cracked screen.
"I... I saw a weird signal on the map," Adel said. "The signal was flickering. I thought it was a safe zone or a system glitch. I just followed the only hope there was."
The answer made sense. Rehan's "ghost" bait succeeded in attracting attention. But the problem was, the bait attracted Adel, not prey carrying points.
"Lim, enough interrogation," Salma cut in firmly. "She's a victim. She's my Student Council member. My responsibility."
"She's a member of Group 23, Sal," Salim countered. "Enemy."
"She's human, Salim!" Salma snapped. "If we reject her, what's the difference between us and Septian?"
The moral debate was halted by Alya's voice.
"She's severely dehydrated, Lim. Her lips are cracked. If not given water, she could faint," Alya reported.
Salim looked at Adel. The girl looked pitiful. Fragile. Harmless.
But inside Salim's head, alarms were ringing loudly.
Why is the wound only on the cheek? Why is her shirt torn in 'safe' places (not vital areas)? Why is she still holding her tablet?
However, Salim saw his friends' faces. Salma was already hugging Adel. Udin looked sympathetic. Alya was busy cleaning her wounds. Rehan... Rehan was just silent, but he didn't look opposed.
If Salim forced Adel away, he would lose his team's trust. Group cohesion would shatter.
"Okay," Salim sighed. "She can join. But she doesn't get our water ration until we get new supplies. And her tablet must be turned off completely so Septian can't track it."
"Thank you, Brother Salim... Thank you..." Adel cried again, this time tears of relief.
Salma helped Adel stand. "Come on, let's move to a more covered spot."
They moved deeper into the thicket of trees. Adel walked in the middle, supported by Salma and Alya.
Mid-journey, Adel started speaking again. Her voice was soft, as if sharing a huge secret.
"Sis... actually there's one more thing that made me run," Adel said. "Last night, Septian managed to translate that Ancient Literature 'Rules' using a literature pocketbook he happened to have in his pocket."
"Oh yeah?" Salma was interested. "What does it mean?"
"Septian said... the last stanza is the key. 'Only one throne remains, at the end of the season'. Septian said, that's a lie. That's a system trap," Adel whispered convincingly. "Septian said he found a loophole in the previous stanza. The System actually wants us to unite against the Game Master. If we kill each other, we actually lose. Points are just an illusion."
"Meaning?" Rehan asked, confused.
"Meaning, if we can find the Central Server and destroy it together before the seventh day, all collars will release automatically without needing points," Adel explained. "But Septian didn't want to take that risk. He preferred the safe way: killing people. Even though I think, we should be looking for that server."
Salim listened in silence. The theory sounded... tempting. Too beautiful. Uniting against the system? Destroying the server? That was a heroic narrative that idealists like Salma loved.
And sure enough, Salma's eyes lit up. "That makes sense! The school wouldn't want us to actually die. This must be a teamwork test!"
"Could be," Udin added hopefully.
Salim stared at Adel's back.
Great story, Adel. Too good.
If Septian really believed that theory, why did he kill Tommy? Contradiction. Unless... this story about "fighting the system" was fiction concocted to plant false hope. To make the target group soft. To make them hesitate to kill.
They arrived at a small cave covered by hanging roots. A new hiding spot.
"Rest here," Salim ordered.
Salma sat Adel in the corner. Alya gave her a little water—violating Salim's order, but Salim let it slide.
The atmosphere became a bit calmer. Adel's presence, ironically, made the group feel more "human" for having helped someone. Their morale rose slightly.
"I need to pee for a sec, Sis. Can I?" Adel asked politely.
"Don't go far. Just behind those bushes," Salma said, pointing to a thick bush five meters from the cave.
Adel nodded, then limped behind the bush.
Salim watched from the corner of his eye. He couldn't see Adel, but he counted the seconds.
One... Two... Thirty...
Behind the bush, Adel's pitiful face vanished instantly.
Her expression turned flat. Cold. Her tears stopped flowing as if a tap had been turned off.
She ensured no one was looking. Then, with very fast and trained hand movements—results of years of body theater training—she snapped a small twig on that bush in a specific pattern.
Snap toward the north. Leave a small tear of uniform fabric on the thorn.
It was a trail marker.
Then, Adel reached into her hidden inner pocket. She took out her tablet which was supposedly turned off. She turned it on briefly—just 3 seconds—in Airplane mode then turned it off again.
Enough to send a last location ping to the pre-paired device. Septian's device.
Adel put her suffering face back on. She came out of the bush fixing her skirt.
"Done, Sis," she said while smiling weakly at Salim.
Salim looked at Adel. He didn't see what Adel did behind the bush. But his mathematical instinct screamed. There was a variable that didn't fit.
"Del," Salim called when Adel sat back down.
"Yes, Brother?"
"You said Septian hit you on the left cheek?"
"Yes..." Adel held her left cheek.
"Septian is left-handed," Salim said. (Salim remembered watching Septian holding the bow last night, his left hand drew the string, meaning he was left-dominant). "If a lefty hits someone in front of them, it usually hits the right cheek. Unless he hit with the back of his hand (backhand)."
Adel's eyes blinked once. Micro-expression of shock. Very fast, then gone.
"Yeah... he slapped me with the back of his hand, Brother. Really hard," Adel answered smoothly, without stuttering.
Salim smiled thinly. "Oh. Okay."
Adel's answer was perfect. Too perfect.
Salim was now 99% sure. Adel was a Trojan Horse.
But Salim didn't expose her now. If he accused Adel, Salma would defend her to the death. The group would fracture.
If this is chess, Salim thought, Septian just moved a Pawn into my defense. Okay, Septian. I'll leave your Pawn here. I'll turn her into a weapon that backfires.
"Rehan," Salim whispered softly, leaning close to the hacker's ear. "Monitor signals in a 500-meter radius. Don't blink. Our real guests are coming soon."
In the distance, about 1 kilometer from the cave, Septian saw a blinking dot on his tablet. He smiled, stroking the tip of his wooden spear.
"Good work, Juliet," Septian muttered. "Romeo is coming to pick you up."
Group 23 began moving in silent formation, following the digital trail left by Adel's fake tears. The real hunt had just begun.