The axe swung toward Geon, a blur of rusted metal and raw intent.
He barely managed to block it, the shadow-sword colliding with the crude weapon in a burst of dark sparks. The force of the blow sent him staggering backward, his feet slipping on the cracked pavement.
“Not bad,” the man sneered, circling Geon like a predator sizing up its prey. “But you’re not ready for this, kid. You’ll make it quick for me, though. Appreciate that.”
Geon clenched his jaw, his hands trembling around the hilt of his sword. His shadow writhed at his feet, flickering with his fear and uncertainty.
“I don’t want to kill you,” he said, his voice strained.
The man’s grin widened, revealing yellowed teeth. “That’s your first mistake.”
The axe came again, a vicious downward swing that Geon barely sidestepped. He countered instinctively, the shadow-sword slashing across the man’s arm. Blood sprayed, and the man cursed, stumbling back.
“Alright,” the man growled, clutching his arm. “Guess you’ve got some fight in you after all.”
Geon didn’t reply. His mind was racing, his thoughts a chaotic jumble of survival instinct and self-recrimination. He didn’t want to do this. He didn’t want to kill.
But he wasn’t sure he had a choice.
The man lunged again, his movements erratic but relentless. Geon parried and dodged, each clash of their weapons sending vibrations up his arms. He could feel his stamina draining with every swing, every block.
I can’t keep this up.
The man’s axe nicked his shoulder, drawing blood. Geon hissed in pain, staggering back. The shadow at his feet coiled protectively, rising into a half-formed shield as the man pressed the attack.
Geon raised the shield instinctively, the axe crashing against it with a deafening clang. The force of the blow sent him sprawling, his back hitting the pavement hard.
“Gotcha now,” the man said, raising his axe for the killing blow.
Time seemed to slow.
Geon’s shadow surged, wrapping around his arm and pulling him upright. His body moved on its own, the shadow-sword slashing upward in a desperate, powerful arc.
The blade connected.
The man’s eyes widened in shock as the sword cleaved through his torso. He staggered, dropping his axe as blood spilled from the gaping wound.
Geon froze, his chest heaving as the man fell to his knees.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Then the man chuckled, a wet, rasping sound that sent chills down Geon’s spine. “Guess... you had it in you after all,” he muttered, blood dribbling from his lips. “Good... luck, kid.”
His body crumpled to the ground, dissolving into ash.
Geon stood there, staring at the spot where the man had been. His hands shook, the shadow-sword dissolving into tendrils of darkness that retreated to his feet.
His phone buzzed.
Enemy defeated: Wild Joe.
Experience gained: 670 points.
+1 Level up!
+1 Level up!
+1 Level up!
The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
+1 Level up!
Player reached Level 21.
Geon didn’t feel stronger.
He felt hollow.
----------------------------------------
The city was silent again as Geon stumbled away from the scene. His shoulder ached where the axe had cut him, and his clothes were stained with blood—some his, some not.
He found shelter in the remains of a convenience store, the shattered windows offering little protection but enough cover to give him a moment’s rest.
Sinking to the floor behind the counter, he stared at his trembling hands.
“I killed him,” he whispered. The words felt foreign, like they belonged to someone else. “I killed him.”
The shadow at his feet shifted, forming into a humanoid shape once more. It crouched beside him, its featureless face unreadable.
“You survived,” it said simply.
Geon glared at it. “I didn’t want to survive like that.”
The shadow tilted its head. “Then you would be dead.”
Geon looked away, his jaw tightening.
“Do you think he hesitated?” the shadow continued, its voice calm, almost curious. “Do you think he cared about your life the way you cared about his?”
Geon didn’t answer.
“He would have killed you,” the shadow said, its tone hardening. “And you would have died with your ideals intact. But ideals don’t matter here, Geon. Only survival does.”
Geon closed his eyes, pressing his hands to his face.
“You will have to kill again,” the shadow said. “And again. The weak fall. The strong endure. That is the way of this game.”
“I didn’t ask for this game,” Geon muttered.
The shadow laughed, a hollow, echoing sound. “And yet here you are.”
----------------------------------------
The hours dragged on as Geon sat in the convenience store, his mind a whirlwind of guilt and anger. Outside, the blood-red sky cast long shadows over the ruined city. He could hear distant screams, the occasional clash of weapons, and the unsettling howls of boosted animals.
His phone buzzed again.
Attention: All players.
Leaderboard updated.
Global Rank Player Name #100892 Loose Canon Lesly
#100891 Barron the Big
#100890 Gorgon Karen
#100889 Beast Hunter Joe
#100888 Gunslinger Parsso
#100887 Mike The Assassin
#100886 Demon Geon
Geon hesitated before looking at the screen.
His name appeared near the bottom of the list, alongside his title: Demon Geon.
But it wasn’t his rank that caught his attention.
It was the sheer number of names above him. Each one represented someone stronger, faster, or more ruthless than him. Each one was another reminder that he was far from safe.
And the names were decreasing.
One by one, they were vanishing from the list, replaced by the ominous word [Eliminated.]
Geon’s chest tightened.
This is real. This is happening.
He had no time for doubt, no room for hesitation. If he didn’t fight, he’d die. If he didn’t kill, he’d be killed.
But that didn’t mean he had to lose himself in the process.
He stood, gripping the hilt of his shadow-sword as it reformed in his hand. The pain in his shoulder was a dull throb now, a constant reminder of his mortality.
“I’ll survive,” he said softly, his voice steady. “But I’ll do it my way.”
The shadow at his feet rippled, amused. “We’ll see how long that lasts.”
Geon stepped out into the blood-red light, his eyes scanning the horizon.
The game wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.
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