"Hey, look, isn't this the Exhibition Champion?" someone called out as we walked through the entrance of the Happiest Chicken, its neon sign casting a cheerful glow over the carnival street.
The place looked like a typical fast food restaurant, if not for the customers—among whom only a few looked completely human, excluding our group.
"Wow, you really showed that announcer what it means to become the prey!" a guy with four arms and green skin laughed, giving me multiple thumbs up simultaneously.
As we approached the counter, the people in line respectfully made way for us. It seemed news of the exhibition had either been broadcast here—likely given the large screen mounted on one of the walls—or rumors traveled incredibly fast in this city.
"Welcome, someone who brings fun and smiles to our land," the waiter said with a warm smile. "It's an honor to see you in our humble establishment. Today, all your orders are free... within reasonable limits, of course."
He looked like an average Black man at first glance, but his pointy ears and striking golden pupils marked him as something else. I called upon the System for information:
[Umbra Elf - Level 250]
While walking here, I'd been using the System to inspect passersby, and most were below level 100. The few humans undergoing their Tutorials were all below level 20. It would have been wrong to assume everyone was as high-leveled as the Tamer and the exhibition monsters. Given their stats correlated to level 500 tops for a Tier 4 peak, it meant that even in this Tutorial Zone, truly powerful beings were rare.
Still, the number of people who, by my Mana Sense, read like Tier 1, 2, or 3 beings on the Mana cultivation scale suggested this land was overall much more powerful than the Human Kingdom of Luminosa. After all, the vast majority of people there couldn't even qualify as Initiates, let alone reach Tier 1.
We placed our order, and since it was free, I didn't ignore their generous offer. Of course, I didn't want to seem ungrateful or brazen, so while I ordered a fair bit for myself and my companions, I didn’t go overboard like last time at McTrump's. I wasn't in the mood to feast anyway.
"So what are your quests, guys?" I asked between bites. "I have to make sure you complete them. Do you know when the time limit ends?"
"Well, our quests aren't that hard to complete, I think," Sergio replied. "First, we have to gather three Silver Tickets, which we can obtain by exchanging ten Bronze Tickets each, completing a Major Attraction, or succeeding at a hard Bonus Objective in a Minor Attraction—and today, we both earned our first Silver Tickets thanks to you. We also need to reach level 20 and accumulate at least 1,000 System Points each. Of course, I had already met the level requirement, but for Alisa, this would be the hardest... at the very least, she wouldn't need to advance to D Rank, which would require her to earn another 2,000 Points."
"So another person can't just give you the points?"
"No, as far as we know, there's no simple way to exchange points, at least not in the Tutorial."
"The most important question is the time limit," Alisa added. "The Ever Happy Smiley Land will be open for 11 more days—two weeks total. But we don't have to stay until then. As soon as we complete our Tutorial quests, we can go to the portal and leave after talking to the Guide."
"The Guide?"
"Well, they control the portals," Sergio explained.
"Interesting. I thought the System would just send us back the same way we arrived."
"Maybe it just doesn't want to bother and uses a more cost-efficient method," Sergio mused.
"So, two weeks is the time limit, and we have 11 days left. Let me make sure—the days here are the usual 24 hours, right?"
"I talked to some inhabitants," Sergio said. "Usually, a day here lasts 66 hours. But it's been changed to 24 hours specifically for our Tutorial to make it easier for humans to adapt."
"The hardest part was earning the money," Alisa noted. "But thanks to you, we've accomplished that. Now we only need to survive two Major Attractions and three Minor Ones. Considering each attraction could earn us some points, it would be wiser to use our current points to make ourselves stronger."
"By the way, the System seems to like the number 6. Not creepy at all."
If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.
"Oh, I don't think it's the System to blame," Sergio lowered his voice as he looked around, "but rather the zone's overlord. Even if it seems like a nice place to stay, believe me, it's not."
"I have no idea how you even came up with that idea, dear." Alisa shook her head.
"Well, it's cheerful and has a seemingly nice atmosphere. But oh, you'll soon witness it. It's almost 6 o'clock."
"What happens at 6 o'clock?"
"Just look at the screen."
The large TV on the wall showed people having fun on the water rides. A familiar tentacle appeared from the shadows, grabbing one of them.
"Yeah, what a nice place to stay," I repeated the vampire's words ironically.
The clock in the corner of the screen showed 17:59. As soon as it turned to 6:00, the image suddenly shifted...
The image changed to a colorfully animated cartoon featuring a chipmunk character. At first, the animation style reminded me of those wholesome Saturday morning shows—soft edges, pastel colors, and exaggerated cuteness. The chipmunk turned to face the viewers, breaking the fourth wall with enormous sparkly eyes and rosy cheeks. His smile, though meant to be endearing, stretched just a bit too wide, revealing far too many perfectly aligned teeth.
"Five minutes, five minutes!" he announced in a high-pitched, sing-song voice that somehow made my skin crawl. "Five minutes of laughing prolongs your life by five days!"
Upbeat music began to play—the kind you'd expect from a children's show—but something about it felt off, like it was being played at midnight in an empty playground. The melody was almost too cheerful, with occasional discordant notes that seemed intentional rather than mistakes.
The cartoon continued, showing the chipmunk skipping through a kingdom populated by anthropomorphic animals. Everything was rendered in a sugar-sweet style—flowers danced in the wind, butterflies left trails of sparkles, and fluffy clouds smiled down from a perfect blue sky. The buildings were shaped like oversized mushrooms and gingerbread houses, painted in every color of the rainbow.
Yet despite the saccharine setting, everyone in the restaurant was transfixed. The manager abandoned the register, the waiter dropped his orders, and customers left their meals untouched as they gathered around the screen. I received a system message: "Please laugh. It should prolong your life."
The chipmunk began interacting with the other characters—adorable deer with big doe eyes, fluffy bunnies with floppy ears, and tiny squirrels with bushy tails. He approached each one with that same unnaturally wide smile, asking in his sweet voice, "Do you know where the wolf went?"
When each animal shook their head no, the chipmunk would sigh dramatically—and then things turned horrific. The animals didn't simply die; they exploded from within, their cartoon bodies rupturing in a spray of surprisingly realistic blood and gore. The chipmunk's expression never changed, that same cheerful smile plastered on his face as he stepped over the remains, his previously pristine fur now speckled with red, and approached his next victim.
The contrast between the cutesy animation style and the graphic violence made it all the more disturbing. It was like watching a preschool show directed by a horror movie veteran with a twisted sense of humor.
And yet, as soon as the disturbing imagery appeared, the entire audience erupted into uncontrollable laughter. It wasn't natural mirth; it was the kind of laughter you might hear in an asylum at midnight. The vampire and his wife doubled over, tears streaming down their faces as they howled with hysterical glee. Even the three hypnotized gangsters, who moments ago had been blank-faced and compliant, were now slapping their knees and gasping for air between fits of maniacal giggles.
I felt it too—an almost irresistible urge to laugh, even though I found nothing humorous about the carnage on screen. Sure, I'd seen similar dark humor before: that satirical cartoon about four kids in a small mountain town where one kept dying in increasingly ridiculous ways. But this was different. The entire establishment seemed mesmerized, caught in some sort of mass hysteria.
The scariest part was that I couldn't detect even the slightest fluctuation of Mana. This wasn't magic as I knew it, not even close to the Elements or Sins I'd encountered in Luminosa. Neither was it similar to the System's overly complicated Mana runes. This was something else entirely—something that sent cold shivers down my spine despite all my power and experience. After facing demons, monsters, and the Demon Queen herself, I thought nothing could truly unsettle me anymore. I was wrong.
"Please laugh, Mr. Anomaly. He-he-he-he." Barry's voice echoed in my mind, though the clown was nowhere to be seen. He was probably watching from somewhere, using his Space Element to send me the message.
Something deep inside me whispered that I should stop resisting, that it would be easier to just give in and join the chorus of laughter around me. And so, my last resistance crumbled as I watched a particularly tall giraffe disappoint the "poor" chipmunk with its ignorance about the wolf's whereabouts. I found myself laughing hysterically as its long neck exploded in a fountain of cartoon gore, each segment popping like bloody firecrackers from bottom to top.
The worst part? I couldn't tell if I was laughing because of whatever force commanded it or because I'd finally cracked under the sheer absurdity of it all.
As the cartoon drew to a close, the chipmunk turned to face the screen once more, his blood-spattered fur glistening in the animated light. Despite being covered in gore from his violent "playtime," his eyes maintained that unsettling sparkle.
"Did you enjoy the show?" he asked sweetly.
"Yes, Mr. Chuckles!" everyone, including myself, responded in perfect unison, our voices carrying an unnatural cheerfulness.
"I'm so glad you liked it too!" The chipmunk's face split into an impossibly wide grin, bits of viscera still clinging to his fur. "Let's all have fun and be ever happy and smiley in this promised land. Until we meet again..." His voice dropped to a stage whisper, "And don't forget to find me if you know where the wolf is!"
With that final reminder, he disappeared, and the TV screen went black instantly.
[Thanks for watching Chuckles Time! You've received a free Bronze Ticket]