“That’s… the last of them. Most probably retreated to the Middle Crystal.”
“They didn’t get burned by the Administrators?”
“It’s a valid retreat. But honestly, who knows what the Admins are thinking? They burn whoever, whenever, for whatever reason these days.”
“Ssh! They might hear you!”
“Let them. My girl already left me. What’s the point in living?”
The chaos had finally subsided. The Red Team’s creeps could now catch their breath—some casually chatting over the corpses of both friend and foe, others weeping quietly, while a few sat frozen in place, shaking from what they had just done.
With Dr. Syrio still a long way from respawning, the Blue creeps had been left to fend for themselves. And with Bjorn and Paik carving through them like scythes through grain, there was only ever going to be one outcome—a massacre.
By the time the dust settled, they had pushed all the way to the enemy’s West Outer Crystal.
Now, Bjorn and Paik stood before the massive, floating sapphire structure. Paik clasped his hands together, bowing slightly before turning to Bjorn.
“Since you cannot speak, my friend, I shall keep watch.” He clapped a hand on Bjorn’s back, his voice steady. “May your fist strike true. For I know it can.”
Bjorn simply nodded. There was no time to waste—the enemy Heroes would return soon.
He shifted his stance, sliding his foot back as he lowered himself. His fists clenched, knuckles cracking under the pressure. He gritted his teeth, and his fists began to crackle and pop—and then he swung.
The impact rang through the air like a war drum. A shockwave rippled outward, making bones rattle and stomachs drop.
And then, above them—where the crystal’s energy connected to the Dome’s ceiling—the beam of light shuddered and flickered.
The enemy team had just been warned.
Bjorn struck again. This time, a crack formed in the oceanic blue surface.
Again.
Again.
Faster. Harder. His fists blurred with speed, the force of each blow shaking the ground. The watching creeps could barely track his movements—all they could feel were the shockwaves slamming into their chests, making their hearts pound.
A wall of dust swallowed them whole. Their hair was swept back by the sheer force of Bjorn’s relentless assault.
The crystal—once flawless—began to fracture. Web-like cracks spread, marring its once-pristine glow.
And then—
Bjorn shifted. His stance changed, his body twisting like a coiled spring. He exhaled deeply—then swung his fist like an axe.
The sound wasn’t as loud as expected.
Because his fist didn’t just crack the crystal.
It went through it.
A blinding explosion of blue shards erupted outward. The fractured pieces scattered across the ground, skidding and sliding as creeps leaped back to avoid them.
For a moment, there was only silence.
The creeps looked down at the fallen crystal shards sliding at their feet, watching the light within them flicker… flicker… and die.
And then—
The newbies erupted into cheers.
They whooped, jumped, and threw their arms around each other in wild celebration.
The veterans, however…
They only wiped the blood from their faces. Some sighed in relief. Others bit their lips, frustration tightening their expressions. Because as they gazed at the towering pillars of light scattered across the Dome—
Their own Middle and East Outer Crystals were gone.
They had long since learned not to celebrate.
Because the Game was only going to get harder from here.
And the Administrators would make sure of it.
[Enemy Outer Crystal, destroyed! Deploying enemy Middle Crystal Troops in one minute! March!]
[Enemy Outer Crystal, destroyed! Deploying enemy Middle Crystal Troops in one minute! March!]
Now, they would have to march again, facing a fresher, rested army with their already dwindled numbers.
The Game is sadistic, slowly reducing humanity's numbers one by one. They could have ended everything with the hundreds of asteroids they hurled at Earth, yet they preferred this slow, grinding method.
And humanity could do nothing but swallow their fate.
The newbies' celebration was cut short by someone in what appeared to be an IBAA uniform—though the blood and tears made it difficult to tell for certain.
"Everyone! We have a chance to blitz the Middle Crystal!" The man's voice cracked with urgency. "Based on my calculations, it should still be thirty minutes before Dr. Syrio and Dexter respawn! If we rush now, we might catch them absent and our Heroes can overwhelm their defenses! So everyone, please... I know you're exhausted. But we need to move, now! Heroes, lead the way!"
No one challenged his words. Instead, they roared as one and surged toward the next pillar of light, not even waiting for Bjorn and Paik.
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"Well then..." Paik stood behind Bjorn, resting a hand on his shoulder. "...Shall we go?"
Their group marched forward once more, their footfalls making the very ground tremble beneath them. Exhaustion hung on them like armor too heavy to bear.
But if there existed even the slightest chance they could destroy the Middle Crystal without facing another enemy Hero, they would seize that opportunity with both hands.
They pushed onward, ignoring their blurring vision and churning stomachs—forward was the only direction that mattered now.
And then, the Middle Crystal loomed before them.
They halted in unison, and when they registered the absence of Heroes and saw only the terror-stricken faces of enemy creeps, their confidence swelled.
The enemy creeps stared back, trembling visibly. The moment Bjorn and Paik advanced, most broke ranks and fled.
Unfortunately for them, retreat came too early... and everyone watched as they erupted into flames, burned to ash by the Administrators.
Their only remaining option was to fight, and so they did.
But it was no contest. Without Heroes to rally behind, the enemy fell quickly to Paik and Bjorn's onslaught. When the surviving creeps finally realized retreat was permitted, they abandoned the Middle Crystal entirely, fleeing straight to the Inner Crystal.
Well... except for Dexter the Chained Killer, who arrived at the last possible moment.
[Dexter, the Chained Killer.]
"Your blood will decorate my wall!"
But he merely sacrificed himself, charging alone against Paik and Bjorn's combined might.
It... might have been comical had he not managed to slaughter several creeps before falling once more.
Yet again, Bjorn found himself before a crystal, demolishing it with his fists without interruption.
[Enemy Middle Crystal, destroyed! Deploying enemy Inner Crystal troops in one minute! Wow, you're on a roll!]
This time, even the hardened veterans joined the celebration.
How could they not, when the Blue team hadn't managed to destroy even a single one of their Middle Crystals?
"Yes. Yes!"
"We... we might actually have a chance to win this even with the Echo Smith on their side!"
"Calm down! Everyone, please calm down! We need to rethink and solidify our strategy!" The IBAA man's voice cracked with strain as he fought his own urge to celebrate. Sweat cutting clean lines through the grime on his face, he gesticulated wildly to recapture everyone's attention. "Now that we've destroyed their Middle Crystal, their strongest Heroes will likely converge on our lane. Or worse—they'll start ganking us with superior numbers! We must be prepared! Heroes, please join us so we can formulate a strategy!"
"Shall we go?" Paik stood behind Bjorn, placing a calloused hand on his shoulder before joining the animated cluster of creeps. Bjorn, however, remained motionless, his gaze distant.
Everyone had reason to celebrate, he thought.
This was only Bjorn's third time being summoned into the Game as a Hero in the past six years. First came immediately after his rebirth as a Hero—that summons was guaranteed for all newly ascended. The second came four years ago, and now this third call.
But like all Heroes, he had served as a creep countless times before his ascension—and from that blood-soaked experience, he knew one unsettling truth:
It shouldn't have been this easy.
Some Heroes dismissed the importance of creeps during the Game. Bjorn never understood that arrogance. Creeps were as vital as Heroes—perhaps even more so. Without them, destroying the crystals would be impossible. The living battering ram of flesh and bone that made victory attainable.
This was why the more merciless Heroes slaughtered creeps whenever possible. Of course, such massacres were rare, as enemy Heroes would intercept and counter.
When Heroes were locked in their godlike duels, it was the creeps who ultimately decided the Game's outcome.
True, Paik was the dominant force in their lane, but even then, the two of them had expended considerable time and energy eliminating Dr. Syrio and Dexter the Chained Killer.
Perhaps even more than Paik, the one who had tilted the balance in this battle was the creep Bjorn had found fighting the ratatusk alone.
Bjorn turned, searching for him. It wasn't difficult—of all the creeps, this one had the most corpses trailing in his wake, an invisible thread of death connecting fallen enemies like macabre bread crumbs.
In desperate games, veteran creeps would eventually reach a breaking point where they'd swarm enemy Heroes to protect their crystal, offering themselves as willing sacrifices. None of that had manifested here.
Because Bjorn and Paik weren't the only ones drawing the enemy creeps' attention—Adam did too. The others might not have noticed, too consumed with their own survival, but Bjorn had seen it. And Paik almost certainly had as well.
Adam had killed more enemy creeps than all others combined, and it wasn't even close.
But no—that assessment wasn't quite accurate either. Adam hadn't actually killed anyone.
Instead, he had immobilized and paralyzed only those who attacked him, then delivered them to the mother-daughter pair fighting behind him. Bjorn had never witnessed such a technique before. It was... unsettling.
Was he genuinely trying to protect the mother and daughter?
Or did he harbor some darker purpose that required remaining a creep for as long as possible?
Bjorn focused on Adam, and right now, he was only talking to the mother and daughter, not celebrating with the rest of the creeps.
“Adam…” Grace stood close to him, holding his sleeve as she looked at the pillars of light on their side of the Dome, and all of their Middle Crystals were still alive even though two of their Outer Crystals were already destroyed,
“We… we might actually have the chance to win this. Thank you, thank you so much.”
“Thank you, mister!”
Samantha hugged Adam’s leg, also showing her gratitude.
Adam didn’t really say anything, only placing his hand on Samantha’s head as he looked at Grace.
“Everyone! Please, gather! The Heroes and I have already devised a plan!”
Adam and Grace remained locked in each other’s eyes even with the IBAA’s loud voice bouncing across the tall buildings. But with a nod, they also approached the crowd.
“One of the Heroes will leave us!” The man from the IBAA shouted, and the creeps all quickly voiced out their concern.
“W…what!? We’ll die! You saw what happened to these people when they didn’t have a Hero!”
“N…No! Please, we’re doing so good! Why!?”
“Do you want us to die!? We have the chance to win this! I… I don’t want to die!”
“Everyone, listen! Listen!” The man from the IBAA’s voice drowned everyone else’s due to the special megaphone he was holding, “Bjorn will return as soon as possible—he’s not leaving to abandon us, but to get a buff! We’re close to the enemy’s Verdant Serpent, Bjorn can steal it if they haven’t gotten it yet! It will improve our chance of winning!”
The creeps all looked at each other for a moment. Their faces were still filled with doubt and fear, but they all soon nodded in unison. They hesitated, but they all still agreed.
Adam couldn’t help but compare this group to the Middle Lane with Muzan and Hilda, who didn’t even support or give them any strategy to work on, or even orders—they only told the creeps to die for them or stay back.
Bjorn soon left, and their group began marching forward to the light of the Inner Crystal.
Everyone was quiet now, and no one was whimpering or crying anymore, save for a few people.
How easy was it for humans to become so desensitized to death when they know that they are marching to brutality and that they do not have a choice?
“What… are you thinking about?” Grace asked, only glancing at Adam before focusing her attention on Samantha, who was walking slightly ahead of them while holding her hand.
Adam also glanced back, letting out a small sigh as he whispered,
“I just… feel sorry that everyone has to experience something like this.”
“You’re… still thinking about other people in this situation?” Grace’s eyes widened, “You… really are a kind person, Adam.”
“...Aren’t you thinking about your daughter too?”
“That’s different. She’s my daughter,” Grace sighed before walking closer to Adam and nudging him on the arm, “And she’s not the only person I am thinking about now.”
“Who?”
“Seriously? You. I’m also thinking about you.”
“Oh.”
“Ooh!” Samantha looked back as she smiled and pointed at her mother with the sword she was holding, “Mommy likes young boys!”
“Samantha Miller!” Grace raised her voice and glared at her daughter, “What did I say about pointing that sword at people!?”
“O…only poke the people with blue lights on their head?”
“No!” Grace gasped, “And Adam’s not young, he’s 27. He… he only looks young!”
For a moment, their conversation seemed normal. And it wasn’t only them—the other creeps who didn’t even know each other before the Game were now chatting with each other.
At least, for several minutes, everything felt normal.
But of course, that didn’t last as they finally met with the creeps of the Inner Crystal.
And to everyone’s surprise—
They didn’t have a Hero within their ranks.
Again? They all thought.
What… exactly was happening here?
Perhaps… a trap?