A golden streak of morning sunlight broke through the canopy of leaves, illuminating the hundred or so boys gathered in the grassy courtyard. The buzz of hesitant conversations filled the air, a marked contrast to the silence that had hovered over their first meeting. They had responded to the "requirement" for a morning exercise, a testament to their desire for change, or perhaps their curiosity about what Evander had planned.

They're here. They're actually here, he thought, looking out over the sea of faces, each reflecting a mix of apprehension, curiosity, and determination. He had been wrestling with the challenge of motivating them, of inspiring them to push past their discomfort and fear. Now, it seemed, he had their attention. It was time to put his plan into action.

Evander's voice rang out clear and crisp in the morning air, echoing with the authority of a seasoned drill sergeant. "Line up!" he commanded, and despite the initial startle, the boys quickly obeyed, falling into a rough, disjointed line.

With a swift clap of his hands and a nod, he led the way on their morning run, or rather, walk. They've got to start somewhere. The realization hit him as he watched the boys struggling to keep pace, their faces flushed, their breaths short and ragged. Yet he remained steadfast, his voice a relentless force that echoed through the trees as he urged them on.

The real work began once they reached a secluded valley, away from prying eyes, its verdant grass providing a soft cushion for their weary bodies. Evander turned to face the boys, his gaze taking in their flushed faces and their hunched shoulders. His voice echoed through the silent valley, "It's time to start the real work, boys. This is only the beginning." The glint in his eyes bore an unspoken promise, a vow to transform these boys into men who would no longer be afraid.

Evander, having just concluded the initial phase of their run, now found himself standing before a collection of large duffel bags, his hands coated in the lingering dust of exertion. These bags, procured from a reputable magical games shop in the city and filled by Arckit, contained equipment that would hopefully ignite a spark of competitive spirit among the boys.

With a swift movement, Evander unzipped the first bag. His nimble fingers pulled forth several odd-looking contraptions resembling guns, attached to brightly colored vests. With a resounding clap, he caught their attention. "Alright lads," he boomed, his voice bouncing off the encircling trees, "Grab a gun each. Leave the vests for now. We'll be needing those later."

His commands echoed in the valley, and the boys, still panting from their run, moved hesitantly towards the proffered gear. They grasped the foreign devices with a mixture of awe and curiosity, their eyes darting from their new weaponry to Evander. This might actually work, he mused, watching the boys’ initial apprehension slowly morph into curiosity.

He hoisted one of the guns himself, brandishing it before the boys. "These are your tools, your weapons," he demonstrated, his fingers nimbly flicking switches and adjusting dials. The device in his hand hummed to life, emitting a pulsating glow.

"Now," he said, "watch closely." With that, he aimed at a distant tree and pulled the trigger. A brilliant arc of colored light erupted from the muzzle, streaking across the morning air. When it struck the tree, a vibrant, splotchy mark appeared, a wild smear of color that seemed to radiate from the impact point. A ripple of surprise spread through the boys.

"But it's not just a pretty light show," he said, meeting their stunned faces with a wolfish grin. "Who wants to volunteer?"

A wave of silence washed over the boys until a particularly brave—or perhaps reckless—youth stepped forward. "Hit me," he challenged.

Evander grinned, "Brave lad." He aimed and fired, the color beam hitting the boy squarely in the chest. An audible gasp went up from the group as a bright patch blossomed on his shirt. The boy winced, his eyes wide with surprise at the unexpected sting.

"There you have it," Evander announced, "A harmless sting, a mark to show your 'wound', and it vanishes after a few minutes. This," he held up the gun, "will be your best friend and your worst enemy today. Let's see how you handle it." His eyes sparkled with anticipation, and the air was charged with an energy that promised a morning of battles, of defeats, and of victories.

Evander observed the cluster of boys in the valley, their fingers gripping the unfamiliar weapons with uncertainty. This is just the beginning, he thought, his eyes flicking over each hesitant face. He wanted to ignite a fire within them, a competitive spirit that he knew lurked beneath their guarded exteriors. And so, with a booming voice that echoed in the valley's seclusion, he declared the beginning of their first battle royal.

At first, their responses were timid, a few half-hearted shots zipping through the air. But as Evander paced the makeshift battlefield, his encouraging shouts and provoking jabs began to stir the competitive beast within them. Before long, the valley erupted into a chaotic symphony of colored beams, shouts, and laughter. Now we're getting somewhere, he thought, his heart thrumming with satisfaction as he watched the boys slowly shrug off their inhibitions.

Their stamina, however, was another story. Even in the throes of their newfound enjoyment, their physical conditions couldn't be overlooked. Panting heavily and faces flushed, their energy depleted rapidly. Noting this, Evander called for frequent breaks. He didn't want them to collapse from exhaustion on the first day, after all.

Gradually, he introduced the concept of teamwork. Dividing them into groups, he initiated games that required strategy, cooperation, and a sense of unity. Games like capture the flag, and a simulated hostage situation, echoes from his own days in the military.

The boys, though initially puzzled, soon caught on, their competitive nature rising to the challenge. Their shouts became more organized, their movements more calculated. Strategies were formed, alliances were made, and a newfound sense of camaraderie began to emerge among the factions.

Evander watched it all unfold from the sidelines, a satisfied smirk gracing his features. They were making progress, faster than he had anticipated. Their faces, previously sunken and lifeless, now shimmered with energy and determination. The competitive spirit he had hoped to inspire had not only been awakened but was now thriving within the boys. The sight brought a wave of satisfaction over him.

Some things never change, he thought. Whether in a grim battlefield or in a valley playing with magical toy guns, the primal instinct to compete, to survive, to win—it was ingrained in every male. And he was content in knowing that these boys, despite their circumstances, were no different.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

The once energetic valley had transformed into a serene, flickering enclave as the night stretched its inky fingers across the sky. A substantial fire crackled merrily in the center, scattering sparks and radiating a warmth that beckoned the boys towards it. They had been instructed by Evander to fetch whatever food they could muster from their individual homes, turning their evening into an impromptu picnic around the blazing fire.

Evander found himself holding a charred chunk of what was once a promising piece of meat. He eyed it with a quizzical brow, yet gratefully accepted it from the boy who'd attempted his first bout of outdoor cooking. Well, they all have to start somewhere, he thought, chewing cautiously on the overcooked morsel.

The boy in question was named Darren. He was a lanky individual, his face freckled and hair tousled as though he'd just woken up. Beside him sat Lewis and Felix, two boys who seemed as different as day and night but were inseparable nonetheless.

Swallowing the last of the charred morsel, Evander turned to his little group, his eyes twinkling with curiosity under the firelight. "So," he began, his tone casual. "What brought you guys here?"

There was a moment of hesitation, a ripple of unease that swept across their faces. Evander didn't press, he merely returned their gazes patiently, allowing them the space to answer. And answer they did.

The floodgates opened with Darren. He started talking about a game that had been released on the male net a year ago. It was a digital marvel, a universe that had entranced him and countless others. The game was immersive, it was addictive, and before long, he was ensnared in its fantastical realm. Meals were missed, social interactions became sporadic, and his enthusiasm for real life waned, replaced by the simulated experiences of the game.

Lewis and Felix nodded along, adding in their own stories. It wasn't just Darren. They had also been captivated by the digital siren's call. Each tale was a heartbreaking echo of the other, young lives entwined by the lure of the virtual world, losing sight of the tangible beauty of their reality.

As the confessions spread around the bonfire, a strange pattern emerged, a narrative thread that bound these boys together. Each and every one of them shared the same infatuation for the game. The flames danced in their eyes as they retold their experiences, their digital conquests, their shared camaraderie within the game's realm.

Evander looked around, his sharp gaze sweeping over the young faces, illuminated by the firelight. It was a patchwork quilt of expressions, a medley of shared laughter, shared memories, and shared regrets. There was an unspoken connection amongst these boys. An unlikely fellowship forged not on the football field or in a classroom, but within the nebulous realms of a virtual game. A game that, now that they were out here in the real world, had seemingly taken a heavy toll on their health and vitality.

His mind churned, trying to comprehend the weight of the situation. Could it really be that all these boys fell into the same trap? That the same game ensnared them all? The odds seemed astronomical, a near-impossible correlation. He scratched his stubbled chin thoughtfully, his gaze landing on the embers dancing in the fire.

"It seems odd, doesn't it?" he ventured, his voice steady yet carrying an undertone of concern. The boys turned their attention towards him, their conversations simmering down. "Nearly a hundred percent addiction rate among all the players... it's almost... engineered."

A murmur of agreement rippled around the campfire. They'd all noticed the correlation, but none had voiced it. As the silence thickened, Evander's mind dove into a sea of theories and suspicions. Could this game have been purposely designed to be addictive, to drive these boys to such a state that they'd need professional intervention? Could the institution itself be a part of this?

It was a terrifying thought, one that unsettled him as he watched the boys around the fire. The innocent faces, the camaraderie, the laughter - they were just kids, caught in an intricate web of digital deceit. If his suspicions held any merit, these boys weren't mere patients, but victims of a much larger scheme.

Listening to the boys' stories, Evander found himself drawn into their world, a tapestry of shared struggles, family heartaches, and hefty financial burdens. One by one, they spoke of their families – some wealthy, others scraping by, yet all shelling out exorbitant amounts to keep their sons here in this facility.

A boy named Kai, his freckles illuminated by the firelight, spoke of how his family was barely making ends meet, yet they were shelling out every penny they had for his stay here.

"Ain't no expense too great for a son," he murmured, a touch of sadness in his eyes. His words rang in the air, carrying a weight that belied his years.

Their stories painted a stark picture, a society that valued male births so greatly that they would go to extreme lengths to ensure their survival and well-being. Yet as the conversation continued, the chilling reality of their circumstances began to unravel even further.

Looking around, Evander broke the news of the impending arrivals. "There's something else you should know," he began, his gaze fixed on the flickering fire. "In a few weeks, we will be joined by women. Five per boy. They're paying a substantial amount to be with us."

The revelation fell onto the boys like a boulder, silence following his words as the weight of them sank in. Their wide-eyed expressions mirrored back at Evander from the light of the fire. Some looked bewildered, others apprehensive, but all shared a common thread of disbelief that they were being sold of to women that were the highest bidders.

Suddenly, the gravity of their situation hit Evander. What a twisted world this is, he thought, where the existence of a man is so scarce, his company could be sold and bought at a high price. It was a reality he struggled to reconcile with, and yet, it was their reality, the bizarre circumstance that had drawn all of them here.

The fire crackled and popped, filling the silence as the boys processed the news.

As the reality of their situation sank deeper into the hearts of the boys, Evander noticed the air grow tense, their jovial spirit diminishing like the dying embers of their fire. Their laughs faded, replaced by heavy silences and glances exchanged in the firelight.

Seizing the reins of the conversation, Evander leaned forward, his eyes reflecting the dancing flames as he began to speak. His voice sliced through the silence, his words rippling across the group like a pebble tossed into a tranquil lake.

"We may not be able to control our circumstances," he began, his gaze sweeping across the group, locking onto each pair of eyes. "But we can control how we respond. The best way to face our situation is to build personal strength. These games and exercises, they're more than just distractions or pastimes. They're opportunities for us to grow."

His words hovered in the night air, landing softly on the boys, causing some to nod in agreement, others to look at him with newfound respect.

Not yet, he thought, mentally biting back the information about the male system. It was a card he chose to keep hidden for now, wanting to test it on a select few before revealing it to everyone.

Slowly, the tension began to dissipate, replaced by the shared determination and an inkling of hope. Laughter bubbled back up to the surface, echoing around the campfire as they shared stories and jokes, their spirits seemingly rekindled.

As the night wore on, they filled their stomachs with food, their hearts with camaraderie, and their minds with new hopes and aspirations. Underneath the starlit sky, they huddled around the crackling fire, the warmth of the flames a silent promise of a shared journey. The veil of night folded around them, their laughter and conversations morphing into soft whispers that faded into the sounds of the wild.

Eventually, each boy found a spot around the fire, the orange glow playing on their closed eyelids as they gave in to the comforting embrace of sleep. Evander watched them, his mind filled with the day's revelations and the task that lay ahead. The image of the boys sleeping peacefully around the fire was etched into his memory, a stark contrast to the gaunt figures he had met only hours ago.

Change begins tomorrow, Evander thought, a determined glint in his eyes.