Finally on my feet, I stretch a little.

  Back, joints, muscles—all scream in protest. I push through.

  It helps. A little. Enough to move.

  Before stepping out, I glance at the two women beside me.

  The old hag doesn’t even look my way. No idea why.

  Her granddaughter? She nods. Gives me this sad, pitying look. Like sorry you had to go through that.

  Oh, wow. I’m so touched.

  So… so…

  I wave her off. Then, making sure nothing’s lurking nearby, step out.

  While the others tiptoe around the unconscious, I kneel beside the first one I see.

  Bruised. Badly. Scratches everywhere. Clothes torn, joints swollen. Other than that? Fine.

  I tap her cheek. “Wake up, lady. Death ride’s over. You made it.”

  She stirs, groaning. Good enough. I move to the next.

  Then the next. And the next.

  The others watch. Then, slowly, they start doing the same.

  Five minutes later, everyone’s on their feet. Mostly.

  I stand among them, scanning faces. Searching.

  There was a kid on the bus. Where is he? His mother? His father? Anybody?

  “Josh! Josh!”

  Someone’s yelling.

  I turn.

  A guy limps toward the forest, face pale, eyes darting like a man on the edge.

  I move. Catch up. Stop him with a hand to the chest.

  Middle-aged. Worried as hell.

  “Josh. A kid, right?” I say.

  “Yes. Yes.” His eyes light up, desperate.

  “About this height? Six, seven years old?”

  “Eight,” he corrects, gripping my arms, face too close. “You’ve seen him? Where is he?”

  I hold his stare. “I’m asking you. Where is he?”

  “I… I—” The man swallows hard. “I’ve a bad ankle. I can’t run. I told him to run that way and hide.”

  He points straight ahead, into the forest. Dark. Endless.

  “He should come out now. He’s not coming out. Why?”

  His breath hitches. Eyes go wide. “What will I say to Jena? My boy. Why CAN’T I RUN—”

  “Keep it together, man.”

  I grip his shoulders. Give him a shake. Snap him out of it.

  “Josh is in the woods. Hiding. He doesn’t know the eagles are gone. He’ll come out. Have faith.”

  I don’t believe a damn word of it.

  An eight-year-old saw those nightmare birds. Saw his father dragged away.

  What did he do? Ran. Panicked. Maybe forgot to hide.

  Running blind in a forest? He’s lost.

  And if he’s lost in another world, where those eagles were just the first monsters…

  Even a full-grown adult wouldn’t survive that. What chance does a kid have?

  I sigh. Shake my head. Josh didn’t deserve it. So fucking unfair the world is.

  “I… I’ll go find him.” The man shoves my hand away and limps forward. Painfully.

  He tries to run.

  Badly swollen ankle.

  Not two steps in, he face-plants. Hard.

  Struggles. Tries to get up.

  I walk over.

  If he goes searching like this, he won’t find his kid.

  He’ll find death.

  Not letting that happen.

  I grab his arm. Haul him up.

  “We’ll find him. All of us, together.”

  I gesture at the group behind us.

  “Don’t worry. But first, let’s figure out our bearings. Then we move.”

  “No, no—We have to find him first!” The man screams right in my ear. “Or he’s dead!”

  I flinch from the noise.

  He shoves me. Tries to run.

  Falls. Again. Harder this time.

  I don’t move. Just stand there. Contemplate letting him do his thing. Let him crawl, fight, wear himself out.

  But then—he starts crying.

  Not loud. Not wailing. Just… breaking.

  He tries to get up. Fails. Tries again. Fails harder.

  He has nothing going for him.

  Kinda like me.

  I sigh. Step forward. Grab his shoulder. Haul him up one more time.

  Lock eyes. Make sure he hears me.

  “If you go in there, you’re not coming back, buddy.”

  He stiffens.

  “And if Josh is hiding somewhere and comes out? He won’t find you.”

  His breath stutters.

  Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

  “What happens to him then?”

  His face twists. Pain. Desperation.

  “He needs you. Stay strong. Have faith.” I squeeze his shoulder. “We will find him.”

  That’s all the lies I’ve got. And somehow, they stick.

  His shoulders slump. His head drops. A slow, shaky nod.

  Good enough.

  I force a smile. “Come on then.” Guide him back to the group.

  .

  .

  .

  A good distance from the open field, under the shade of the trees, the whole group stands.

  Stands? Yeah, I’m surprised too.

  These people were bruised to hell. Ugly black patches covered their bodies not ten minutes ago. Now? Gone.

  Pain? Eased enough that they could move, even run if they had to. Not a groan, not a wince.

  Scratches? Healed.

  Except for their torn clothes and the general what-the-hell-just-happened look on their faces, no one would guess they took a death-ride—yeah, that’s what I’m calling it—and lived to tell the tale.

  The recovery… it’s fast. Too fast.

  There’s something in the air. Something working on us. Stitching us back together, wiping away the exhaustion.

  Even I feel it. Like I just woke up from the best sleep of my life.

  And that? That’s unsettling as hell.

  Is this Vivian’s doing? Like she wants us to take risks. Be reckless. Because why not? You’ll recover in no time, right?

  Yeah. No. I’m not biting, lady.

  If anything, I’ll be more careful. Write that down.

  Someone clears their throat beside me. I whip my head around.

  It’s the baldy in his late forties with a holster on his wider-than-normal waist.

  A gun.

  That automatically qualifies him as the leader of this group.

  Logic 101.

  Can’t argue with that.

  I fold my arms, lean against the trunk, and listen.

  “I’m Blake. Off-duty officer SYPD. I know it’s been a while since anything made sense,” Baldy says, waving his arms in that calm down, people way. “But panicking, crying, praying, not believing it, fighting it… it won’t help any of us.”

  Woah. Guy gets it.

  “It’s time to stick together. Figure out what’s going on, how we survive it, and how we get the hell out of here. Everyone gets that?”

  They get it.

  The shift is instant. People straighten up, nod to themselves. Even the ones who looked checked out a second ago are listening now.

  “So,” Blake clears his throat again. “What is going on? Anyone have any ideas?”

  A hand shoots up.

  I glance over—and immediately roll my eyes.

  It’s the loud-mouth college brat.

  Of course, he’s excited. Practically bouncing on his feet, eyes shining like he’s about to drop the most mind-blowing theory ever. I press down a groan—then pause.

  Wait.

  Everything he’s said so far has… tracked. My logic, my explanations? They’ve fallen short. But him? He hasn’t been wrong yet.

  Maybe—just maybe—I should listen.

  Blake crosses his arms, sizing up the bespectacled guy “What’s your name, son?” he asks.

  The guy straightens up, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. His disheveled brown hair flops back into place.

  “Johnny, sir,” he says, like a soldier reporting for duty.

  Blake nods. “Alright, Johnny. What do you know?”

  Johnny’s lips curl into a wide grin. He lifts his arms, gesturing dramatically like he’s about to reveal some grand secret.

  “It’s an Isekai!” he declares. His hands slice through the air, emphasizing the word like we’re all supposed to just get it somehow.

  I pinch the bridge of my nose. Oh, for fuck’s sake.

  An awkward silence settles over the group.

  Blake narrows his eyes. “A what?”

  Johnny’s grin falters. He blinks. Looks around. “Wait—none of you know?” He adjusts his glasses, as if the power of sight will help him process our collective ignorance.

  No one answers. A few people shuffle on their feet, exchanging confused glances.

  Johnny sighs, rubbing his temple. “Okay, okay. It’s Isekai. It means ‘another world.’ It’s a whole genre in anime, manga, and light novels where people get transported to fantasy realms—sometimes by accident, sometimes by design.” He gestures around dramatically. “Like this!”

  Blake crosses his arms. “So… a fantasy world?”

  “Yes!” Johnny nods rapidly. “But not just that. It usually comes with a system—you know, quests, skills, levels, stats, rewards. And we’ve already seen hints of that.” He looks around, waiting for some light of understanding to dawn on us.

  A few nod hesitantly. Others remain skeptical.

  Blake, however, remains unimpressed. “So, you’re saying this is some kind of game?”

  Johnny shrugs. “Not exactly. More like a world structured like one.”

  I scoff under my breath. Figures. The nerds thrive in a setting like this.

  Blake rubs his chin, eyes scanning the group. “Alright. Let's say, for a second, that I believe you, Johnny. What does that mean for us?”

  “It means,” Johnny pushes up his glasses, his confidence growing, “that we need to start thinking differently. This isn’t Earth. If the rules of this world follow the usual Isekai tropes, then things like magic, monsters, and leveling up could be real. And if we play our cards right, we might even get stronger—strong enough to survive, maybe even thrive.”

  A murmur ripples through the group. The idea of getting stronger in this place instead of just dying like helpless victims? It has appeal.

  Blake raises an eyebrow. “So, what—you’re saying we need to start grinding XP?”

  Johnny grins. “Exactly.”

  I scoff. “And what? Go out into the woods and start punching trees?”

  Johnny shrugs. “Wouldn’t be the dumbest way people have leveled up in some stories.”

  I rub my temple. This is insane. Absolutely insane. But at the same time… hadn’t we already seen proof? The eagles didn’t kill us when they easily could have. Injuries healed faster than humanly possible. The world itself is… off. So are its rules.

  Blake sighs. “Alright. Let’s assume you’re right. How do we trigger this ‘system’ of yours?”

  Johnny frowns, shifting on his feet. “That… I don’t know.”

  I narrow my eyes. “Convenient.”

  “Hey!” Johnny glares at me. “Look, in most stories, it's either automatic—like a voice in your head—or you have to activate it yourself.”

  “How?” Blake presses, arms crossed.

  Johnny hesitates, then shrugs. “Well… the usual way is saying something like Status out loud.”

  A beat of silence.

  Then, from somewhere in the back, someone mutters, “Status.”

  Nothing happens.

  Another person tries. Then another.

  Soon, half the group is standing around, mumbling Status like a bunch of lunatics.

  Nothing.

  Johnny rubs the back of his neck. “Okay… maybe it’s not that simple.”

  Blake exhales sharply through his nose. “Of course it’s not.”

  I ran a hand down my face. And I thought he was smart for once.

  “Anyone remember the side-quest?” I ask, voice loud enough to cut through the murmurs. “And the reward?”

  The moment I say it, the translucent screen flickers in the air before me. It pulses bright, impossible to ignore.

  [Side-Quest.]

  Goal: Survive

  Duration: 24 Hours

  Objective: Kill 5 Monsters

  Reward: System Activation & Awakening

  Failure Consequence: No System Activation & No Awakening

  A collective gasp echoes through the group.

  Everyone stares at their screens, eyes wide, some reaching out as if to touch it.

  Johnny smacks his own forehead, groaning. “Oh my God. How did I forget?!”

  He sprints up to Blake, pointing wildly at the air. “See?! This is how we get the system! The quest—this side-quest. We finish it, and we get the reward. The system unlocks. Once we have the system, survival becomes easy. We’ll be strong in no time.”

  He snaps his fingers. “Like that.”

  The group doesn't look convinced.

  I don’t blame them.

  Easy? Yeah, right.

  I scan the screen again, lingering on two specific words.

  Kill Monsters.

  Not avoid, not hide from, not survive.

  We have to kill Five.

  A chill creeps up my spine. The eagles—those massive, nightmare-fuel things—are monsters. If they’re what we have to kill, we’re screwed.

  But then… why give us a quest we can’t complete?

  I swallow hard, my mind racing.

  That means there’s a way.

  These things—these monsters—can be killed.

  I can fight back.

  Holy shit!

  That… that changes everything.

  Blake exhales, rubbing his temples. “So let me get this straight. We’re stuck in some god-knows-what game, and the only way to actually get our system… is by killing monsters?”

  Silence falls over the group. Nervous glances are exchanged.

  I frown. Wait, they’re not getting it?

  “Kill five monsters,” someone corrects. “And survive twenty-four hours.”

  “As if one isn't bad enough,” a woman mutters.

  Johnny, still caught up in his excitement, waves his hands. “No, no, don’t you get it? This means there’s a way forward! We’re not stuck here powerless.”

  Yes. Exactly. I’m starting to like this Johnny guy.

  Blake stares at Johnny for a long moment, then lets out a deep breath. “Killing Monsters and surviving are two different things, kid,” he says, shaking his head.

  The crowd murmurs in agreement.

  A man in his forties—tall, gaunt, and visibly shaken—rubs his arms. “We barely survived those things earlier. And now you're saying we have to hunt monsters?” His voice wavers. “We don’t even know what kind of monsters we’re up against.”

  “Could be the eagles,” a woman mutters. “If we have to fight those, we're dead.”

  That thought doesn’t sit well with anyone. A thick, suffocating silence follows.

  Johnny clicks his tongue, adjusting his glasses. “Not necessarily. If the trial is like a game, then the enemies should be scaled to our level. The eagles? They didn’t kill anyone. Probably part of the ‘fear and scatter’ phase. The real monsters should be more manageable.”

  That… That is what I am talking about. I’m ready to pump my fists, but Blake cuts me off.

  He crosses his arms. “That’s a hell of a gamble.”

  He still can’t see it. Come on.

  “Isn’t everything?” I sigh. “Sitting here and doing nothing? That’s just a slow death.”

  He looks at me, his expression unreadable.

  I push off the tree, scanning the uneasy group. “Look, none of us want to fight monsters. But if the system is the only way forward, then we have no choice.” I point at the glowing side-quest. “And if it’s giving us a full day to kill just five? Then maybe—maybe—they aren’t that hard to deal with.”

  The group is silent, absorbing my words.

  Then Blake nods slowly. “Alright,” he says, voice steady. “We need a plan.”

  Johnny grins. “Now that’s what I like to hear.”