Ali walked slowly toward the hovering form of Philip, whose massive body dangled just inches above the sand, suspended like a slab of meat on invisible hooks. His limbs twitched, his veins bulged unnaturally, and his face had turned a bruised purple from lack of air. Every second of suspended agony etched itself into his expression.
Ali stopped just a step away. The air around him shimmered slightly from the remnants of Spirit he had just burned through. Calmly, he rolled up the sleeves of his hoodie, revealing muscular and veiny forearms.
"You like punching people?" he asked in a low, mocking tone.
He flexed his knuckles, veins bulging faintly across his wrists as he curled his fingers into a tight fist.
"That's something we share in common," he continued, stepping into Philip's line of blurred vision. "You see, I'm a specialist."
Philip's body trembled. Blood ran from his nose, and one of his eyes was half-shut, bruised from the internal pressure. His fear was no longer hidden. It was laid bare. The monster that had once charged so confidently now looked down at Ali with dread, sensing the inevitable.
"And I'll teach you…" Ali shifted his weight, turning his shoulders just slightly, winding his core.
"…how to properly punch."
BANG.
Ali's fist drove into Philip's gut with surgical precision. The hit didn't just bruise—it compressed and cratered muscle, leaving behind a clear indentation of his knuckles on the giant's abdominal wall.
BANG.
His second punch crashed into Philip's liver with a disgusting thud, causing the giant's body to spasm. The force rippled through him, shaking the ribs that protected that vulnerable organ.
BANG. BANG. BANG. BANG.
Ali didn't pause. His fists became a blur.
BANG. BANG. BANG. BANG. BANG. BANG.
Ten. Twenty. Thirty punches in seconds.
He was no longer just hitting Philip—he was burrowing into him. His fists tore through muscle and skin, breaking the abdominal wall until they sank inside, striking unprotected tissue with raw brutality.
Blood sprayed. Bits of shredded organs clung to Ali's knuckles as he struck again and again, carving his fists deeper with each blow. Philip's body convulsed, the pain surging past endurance.
"UGH—AAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"
The scream echoed through the arena—high, broken, and completely human. It came from somewhere primal, a cry not of defiance but of utter surrender to agony.
And then, suddenly—
Silence.
Philip's eyes glazed over, and his massive frame slackened midair. His mouth hung open as blood bubbled out. Shock. Haemorrhaging. His brain couldn't keep up.
He was already dead before Ali's hand pulled back from inside his torso, slick with gore and wet strands of what remained of the Frenchman's stomach lining.
Ali stood over the hollowed-out corpse as it hovered for a breathless second—and then dropped like a discarded rag-doll.
It hit the ground with a dull thump, twitched once, then began to shimmer and fade.
A moment later, it dissipated into glowing blue fragments, dissolving like glass dust scattered in the wind.
Ali took a long breath and glanced down at his blood soaked hands. Blood dripped off his knuckles and wrist, pattering softly against the sand below.
"He's good enough." His voice was low. Unimpressed. Philip would be sufficient for what Ali needed him to do.
He crouched, scooped a handful of sand, and used it like grit to clean his fingers. He rubbed thoroughly, ignoring the gore sticking to the fine grains, until the remains of Philip's shredded insides were gone.
[You won against Player Dice Devil]
[Player: Dice Devil]
Strength: 3.5
Body: 2
Speed: 0.5
Spirit: 1.5
Intelligence: 0
Luck: 5
Ali stared at the stats hovering in front of him. His black eyes narrowed.
'So that's why it took so long for him to die.' He studied the Body stat. 'Two points. Enough to endure—but not enough to outlast me.'
Then his gaze moved to the Luck: 5.
'Five in Luck and 3.5 in Strength… When that dice hits six, how much does it multiply by? It can't be six times his strength. That'd be ridiculous…' Ali turned the theory in his head, but it didn't matter. The dice wouldn't roll against him again.
He straightened, letting the sand fall from his hands like the memory of Philip's final breaths.
SWISH.
Without a sound, Toto landed opposite him—like he had always been there. The sand didn't even ripple beneath the white rabbit's feet. His red eyes were sharp and unreadable.
"The fight wasn't very entertaining," Toto said flatly, ears twitching once.
Ali's face was a mask of stone.
"I'm not here to entertain you," he replied without hesitation.
Their eyes locked—black against glowing red.
In that moment, the entire arena seemed to fall still. The temperature dropped. The shadows deepened. It was as if the rules of reality had pulled back in caution.
"You know I can kill you," Toto said softly. "And face no consequences."
The tension was absolute. Neither blinked.
The supervisor's voice remained casual, but the force behind it coiled like a snake. "But you're very… very lucky I find you interesting, human."
Ali didn't flinch.
"Lucky how?"
Toto's smile widened faintly. It wasn't kind.
"Well," the rabbit said, straightening up as his aura gently pulsed around him. "You happen to be the first player to hear about the new grand adventure I'll be announcing to everyone soon."
Ali remained silent. His eyes were unreadable.
But inside his mind, the words echoed.
Grand adventure.
"What is a grand adventure?" Ali asked, his brow furrowed slightly. The words sounded both enticing and dangerous, and he wasn't sure which one applied more.
Toto's crimson eyes gleamed. He adjusted the tiny bowtie on his fluffy white chest and spoke with a dramatic flair.
"Grand Adventure. The Expedition. Death Gate…" His tone dripped with showmanship. "The players call it many things. It's when an Administrator like myself decides it's time to open a public gate to a high-level world right in the centre of the level we oversee"
Ali's gaze sharpened. That answered part of the question—but raised more.
"Is the actual world announced ahead of time? And when you say public… do you mean everyone on the second level can enter at the same time?"
Toto gave a swift shake of his fuzzy head, ears flopping.
"No. And no." His face scrunched like he'd just smelled something foul.
"No one will know the world's identity but me. Not even the other supervisors. But…" He sighed and rolled his eyes dramatically. "I'll have to reveal the theme to the cowardly guilds. You know, so they can debate whether to send their precious chickens through the gate or not."
His annoyance was clear. His tone dipped into disdain.
"What's the point of all this training, all this power, when they don't even have the courage to take a damn risk?" he muttered. His red eyes burned with contempt, though his anger wasn't directed at Ali.
Ali listened in silence. He'd met players like that—they were less fighters and more precious items nurtured by their guilds.
Toto waved a paw dismissively and refocused.
"Anyway. To answer your question properly—when I open the gate, every ranked player will be allowed entry. And any unranked player can join, too… if they're willing to cough up 10,000 PC as an entry fee."
"The entrance will appear right here, in the arena." His grin widened unnaturally.
Ali folded his arms, absorbing the details. But one thing still wasn't clear.
"When you say high-level world… just how high are we talking?"
Toto's grin turned devilish. "Oh, I think I picked the hardest one available." His eyes narrowed with wicked pleasure. "Of course, only you and I know that."
Ali exhaled slowly through his nose. A dangerous world chosen by a chaotic, battle-hungry rabbit who could erase cities for fun. This wasn't just a challenge—it was a death sentence for the unprepared.
'This rabbit is murderous,' Ali thought, watching him with detached amusement. 'Who gave an entire level to him?'
Despite the ominous tone of the conversation, Ali smirked—and that alone made Toto blink.
"Is there anything special about this grand adventure?" Ali asked, voice casual, though his mind was racing. "Other than the fun, of course."
Toto's monstrous grin returned.
"You really are my favourite. Number one for sure." He gave a playful hop, his oversized ears bouncing.
He looked like a harmless animal again—if you ignored the fact that he could obliterate everyone in the arena without lifting a paw.
"Of course there's more. Do you think I'd open the gates of hell for nothing?" he said, voice now silkier.
"This world…" He paused for dramatic effect. "…offers limitless power. As long as you interact with the environment, you can trigger personal missions. Continuously."
Ali's eyes narrowed. "Continuously?"
Toto nodded. "Exactly. Theoretically, you can't run out of missions. Every choice, every battle, every discovery has a chance of rewarding you with something—items, boosts, abilities, even transformations."
"Until the world event ends… there's no cap to how much you can grow."
A long silence hung between them as Ali processed that. Limitless rewards. Endless opportunities. But high risk always came with high cost.
Ali looked at his hands, still slightly stained from Philip's shredded remains. 'If I go in unprepared… I'll miss a lot of opportunities to grow stronger.'
'I need to get the gloves before this gate opens. That's non-negotiable.'
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