Many thanks to Wei (waffie) for editing this chapter.

Prologue

This is not a game anymore.

This is a nightmare.

—an unending nightmare.

The armor weighed down heavily on my shoulders. However, I've long since grown accustomed to it. I'm used to pretty much everything. The pain and the sadness. The bloodshed and the madness. All of which surrounded and trapped me within this accursed cycle.

As far as my sight reached amidst the darkness, I saw candles. They were placed around the room, their quivering flames casted an eerie glow onto the vicinity. The black walls seemed to stretch out into the terrifying abyss. The tattered, crimson carpet beneath my feet further enhanced the heavy atmosphere in the room.

The room belonged to me... It was mine.

Abruptly, I heard footsteps. As faint as they were, I knew whatever, or whoever it was, was creeping closer. The door creaked open, gradually revealing a lean man donned in gleaming white armor... and I knew him...

He was my previous guild leader, whom I admire, whose strength I adore. Somewhere in my mind, I missed him. I missed the day where we hunted monsters and completed quests. Though he didn’t say much, I know he was caring for his guild members.

Now the feelings had vanished.

I saw him as someone I must kill. No, I had to kill everyone to survive, be that my former comrades or even my former guild master.

I would live.

He didn’t say anything to me, and neither did I as we stared at each other. It wasn’t destiny that we would kill each other. It wasn’t a destiny. Players, all of them, wanted something from me. I knew sooner or later they would come and kill me.

...including my former guild leader.

I didn’t want to die. I didn’t want to feel pain. It hurt.

Pain hurt. It hurt. Hurt. Hurt. Hurt.

Hate seeped into my veins. The longer I saw him, the angrier I became. Madness overcame my mind as I stepped down from my throne. I would kill him. Yes, I would kill him. No one could stop me.

I would kill everyone.

And I would live.

0000

A spectacled woman walked past a string of doors and arrived at her destination. In the darkened room, a figure sat on the sofa, gaze glued to the screen. On the right of the room was a surgical-looking bed.

It was not empty.

A teenager, probably was in his sixteenth, was sleeping shirtless. A peculiar-looking helmet was covering his head. His face was covered partly with an oxygen mask and was put on a drip. He was being surrounded by medical equipment suitable to a critical patient, although the odd helmet was not.

An induced coma.

The boy was forced to be in a coma.

The assistant moved her gaze to the screen on the wall.

From a glance, it seemed that the figure, a man, was watching some kind of anime. The monitor was showing a battle between two men, one had green unruly green hair in white armor and the other was a man clad in full black body armor. A sinister helmet covered his face.

By design, the last man looked like a final boss.

“Die, bastard!” the green-haired man shouted, swinging his sword downwards and created three waves of energy towards his enemy.

The energy waves were repelled by a mere swing of a sword.

The black-armored man lifted a hand, directing it towards his foe. His greatsword, with half black and half white sides, moved by itself and mimics the action.

It was an enchanted sword, in a game term.

“I will not die,” the hateful words came from the final boss, “I will not die. I will live, and you will die. You all will die...”

He made a sudden move with his hand and then multiple runes appeared in front of him. They shone and shoot a massive amount of energy beams. The hero dodged the first beam, deflected others using his sword, and attempted to reach the final boss. He clicked his tongue at the invading beams of energy and decided to play it safe.

After multiple dodging and defending, the moment to strike finally came.

The hero activated a skill, Surging Rush, which allowed him to gain massive speed for a short time. He dashed towards, like a bolt that had been released from a crossbow. He readied his sword and was about to activate a combo skill, Blinding Slash...

...but was quickly slammed to a nearby pillar by a powerful force. That attack hurt so much, leaving his health bar to one tenth. Another attack and he would die and respawn in a town in a different continent.

He must heal...

He couldn’t afford to be defeated here.

If he did, he’d have to fight numerous monsters again. He would kill the last boss, got his legendary sword, and rose to the number one player in GeaOnline.

Before he could drink a potion, the last boss appeared right in front of him.

“Wai—”

...and slashed his head. The ball of green rolled in a circular motion before it stopped. Blood splattered everywhere, forcing those who weren’t used to seeing blood vomit.

Several minutes later, the corpse disappeared along with the blood.

The challenger was killed.

The last boss walked to his throne and collapsed on it, leaning against his hands. He has won, yet the pose was that of a defeated person.

He stared at the screen, an amused gleam in his eyes, “Oh, another victory. Bravo.”

The assistant glanced at the boy on the bed and nodded. The man was talking about him. She put his soda on a table nearby.

“Wait, what’s that?”

She blinked, “Me-melon soda, sir. As you requested.”

“Ah, good. Good,” he praised her.

Standing up, he walked to the table and took his melon soda.

“It’s amazing how pain can morph someone into a completely different person,” he spoke aloud, never leaving his gaze to the big monitor. “I remember exactly what kind of boy he was.”

“It is fear that distorts his mind, sir,” she voiced her mind, “fear of dying. Fear of pain. They played a good part in corrupting the once innocent kid into what he is. We should have looked for another guinea pig who is stronger and has a stable emotion.”

“No. That kid suits this game too well. A weak, cowardice boy like him is being dragged into a death game. It’s so entertaining and educating. I’ve gotten many kinds of information thanks to the kid.”

The assistant didn’t say anything.

The man let out a small laugh. Lifting his glass of melon soda to the unconscious boy, he murmured, “Survive, kid, and give me enough data to reach the utopia I wanted.”