In front of Baru loomed the shadow of a large creature. It stood before the sun’s bright rays, which escaped the canopy, obscuring its features. He could roughly distinguish the muscular silhouette of its body—almost like a standing badger, but with two extra arms by its torso, each paw bearing lengthy claws. But Baru didn’t need to know what it looked like, and frankly, he couldn’t care less.

The wind whistled quietly as he faced the monster’s shadowy figure, hearing it growl jaggedly under its breath. Neither of them moved, each waiting for an opportunity to counter the other’s attack. Baru was impressed, even though he shouldn’t have been. He had to acknowledge that the monster was intelligent, quite contrary to the narrative the government told the people.

He knew why, of course. If people knew they were killing something that had consciousness and emotions, it would be harder to do it. In the same way that people didn’t want to kill animals because it was deemed inhumane, taking away intelligence and emotions made it easier—like chopping vegetables. Vegetables that could move and wanted to kill you, anyway.

Then Baru saw it. The monster lunged at him, its four paws outstretched to claw him down, its eyes gleaming ruby red. Baru’s image reflected in the creature’s oval eyes as he activated his Sense and dodged to the left, evading the attack effortlessly. The monster turned, its eyes fixed on Baru—his reflection facing it confidently, Sense Sword hoisted.

Then Baru disappeared from the monster’s vision. Fear was palpable in the creature as it stiffened, its eyes slowly dulling. The burning rage and will to attack were utterly extinguished in a mere second. The last feelings the monster had were confusion and… pain.

Baru exhaled, pulling his Sense Sword from the monster’s furry back, the abhorrent sound of flesh and blood squelching. The monster fell limply to the ground as he slashed his sword in the air to release the blood clinging to it.

“Identifying monster, please wait,” said his watch, a hologram popping up. “Monster confirmed: BanBan. Eight points added to Team Baru. Total points: three hundred and two.”

He yawned, stretching. He’d been battling a lot lately. Not that he was complaining; it was undoubtedly his expertise, but it was draining. He only had so much Sense Energy in the tank. He looked at the lifeless monster corpse sprawled on the ground, his expression bearing neither anger nor satisfaction. Some might think he took pleasure in killing monsters because he was naturally good at it, and he would admit that in the past, he had. He’d been hung up on seeking revenge on the creatures that ruined his life—the ones that took away everything he ever cared about.

But the more he killed, the duller it became and the less satisfaction he received. At a certain point, he realized he’d just been pushing the blame onto something else, even though he was responsible for his family’s massacre. Of course, he could sit back and complain, wishing monsters never existed, and ask why they wanted to hurt humans, but in the end, that wasn’t reality. He needed to take accountability and move forward. That was why he stopped hating monsters, and when he let go of that anger, he almost grew sympathetic toward them.

He knelt, looking at the dull eyes of the BanBan he’d just slain. Its face was that of a badger, but its snout was oddly split in two, with small horns lining the top, stopping right before its nose. It had long, pointy ears as well. Regardless of its strange features, Baru recognized that frozen, twisted expression on its face—he knew it very well.

A twig snapped to his left in the forest, making him jerk his head. He expected another monster, but instead, Hyo, Kaiyo, and Hono emerged. The three were grouped to slay monsters while Baru worked alone. Sen and Hana had remained at the camp. He didn’t fully understand why he was left alone, but it was probably due to their skill difference. Besides, he preferred slaying monsters alone.

“Ahoy there, partners!” Baru called cheerfully. Hyo waved, while Kaiyo and Hono smiled in greeting. They looked rather scruffed, judging by the dirt and blood stains on their tracksuits. Their hair was frizzy and unkempt, their faces tired from battle. Baru hadn’t really noticed it before, but looking at them now, he realized his suit didn’t even have a single blood mark on it.

“How many monsters did you guys rack up today?” Baru asked.

Hyo frowned, thinking. “About two, I think.”

Baru had to hold in his laugh. He couldn’t just laugh in their faces for trying; that would be like laughing at a disabled person for not being able to walk. He’d always had a very low sense of humor—probably from the online games he played. He cleared his throat. “Nice! Nice! Way to go, guys, let’s shoot for four!”

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“I don’t know, I’m feeling really tired right now. We were kinda planning on heading back to camp,” Kaiyo groaned. “How many did you get today?”

Baru opened his mouth to answer, then paused. “I forgot, to be honest.”

“How do you forget that stuff?” Hyo murmured in amusement.

He shrugged. “Ya know, when you’re strong like I am, you just forget such trivial things,” he joked. Though the joke held some truth. Kaiyo let out a soft laugh.

Baru always found her cheerful and gentle—perhaps a little too much for such a dangerous challenge. It made him uneasy for her, not because he was particularly attracted to her romantically—Hana was more his type—but because he felt an instinctual urge to protect those weaker than him, though he wasn’t sure where it came from.

“You can just ask the watch, I think. I’m pretty sure they keep a record,” Hyo suggested.

Baru yawned dismissively. “Eh, there’s no need. I probably killed four or something.” The true answer was likely in the tens, today alone. But if he said that, it would lower their spirits, so he kept it to himself. There was one thing joking about being strong and another actually being serious about it. He wasn’t that conceited. At least not yet.

“Alright, let’s go back to camp! You guys deserve a nice rest. I’ll head back out later to slay some more, but I think we’re doing great so far. I have a hard time believing the other teams have more points than us,” Baru said confidently as they navigated through the depths of the forest, pushing away obstructive branches as they followed a trail back to camp.

The forest was plastered in dark green, as if a giant shadow had been cast above them, mostly from the canopy of trees blocking out the sun. However, occasional rays of bright light broke through the cracks in the awning as they traveled. It was somewhat ominous but also comforting at the same time, like hiding in a small space. In reality, though, there was nothing small about the forest, even with walls surrounding them. Perhaps the sheer size of the playfield was why they hadn’t seen many other contestants.

But it still struck him as odd. Although this enclosed dome was big, you’d think they’d have seen more contestants by now. He’d seen some dead monster bodies here and there, but never actual people. Well, maybe the place really was that big. They’d probably just bypassed them.

“I wonder how Ayame and her brother are doing,” Kaiyo said out of the blue as the group walked down a grassy slope. “How many points do you think they have by now?”

“It’s difficult to say, but they’re strong, that’s for sure,” Hyo said.

“Yep, I agree. That blue-haired chick is hot,” Baru murmured under his breath. Kaiyo gave him a side-eyed glance. “I mean… that blue-haired chick is strong. Of course,” Baru coughed to clear his throat. “I’m sure they’re doing just fine, even without teammates. I mean, they took on a Bearwolf back in the first challenge. They seem capable enough to pass this one.”

Kaiyo frowned. “Maybe, I just thought…” Her words trailed off, and she stopped walking. With her eyes closed, her brows tensed in concentration. Baru could only assume she was activating her Sense. Oddly enough, he glanced to his side and saw Hono doing the same thing. The answer was clear: They were hearing something.

“Hono?” Kaiyo asked, turning back with her eyes glowing blue. “You too?”

The bob-cut girl nodded as she awoke. “Yeah, there’s a few people close by.”

“A few?” Hyo narrowed his brow.

“A group of five to the west, moving closer, and four to the northeast, who seem stationary for now. And…” Kaiyo closed her eyes again, trying to make out the distant footsteps. “Two to the right, but they’re not running toward us; they’re heading straight ahead.”

“Straight ahead? That’s where our camp is,” Baru murmured, a chilling thought beginning to form in his mind. Just when I said we hadn’t encountered a lot of people too. God sure works in mysterious ways. It was almost humorous, but he knew this was no laughing matter. It was odd. Odd enough to make him worry. “Alright… let’s get back to camp," he said to them. "And quickly." His comedic tone vanished, replaced with urgency. They nodded in agreement.

Brown tree trunks blurred past them as they darted north, the cold air making Baru’s eyes water. Stray rays of sunlight flickered above, making him feel dazed, but he shook his head, focusing on what lay ahead. Yet Baru’s mind continued to drift, thoughts muddled by his worry for his friend. Even the reason he was running in the first place confused him. The world seemed to slow down, his heart thudding sluggishly in his chest.

…

I can’t believe I’m in a situation where my friend could be in danger from others just because he’s Senseless. It’s disgusting, Baru thought, the world around him moving sluggishly. I once thought that if you were weak, people would protect you and work together. But instead, there are people who take advantage of the weak, enjoying seeing someone lower than them crawl. I wonder why things are like that, he asked himself.

Perhaps it was a childish question, but as he thought more, an odd epiphany emerged.

I always thought people should protect those weaker than them, but that wouldn’t make sense even in a perfect world. If everyone is strong and protects those who are weaker, then who are they protecting against? No one. The meaning of protecting something would become worthless if there weren’t someone trying to harm it.

It was as if the world went by a set of rules, making it so one thing couldn’t exist without the other. Most would take this logic as negative, because it almost felt as if nothing mattered—that it was futile. Justice would never prevail, and evil people would inevitably be born again to challenge those seeking peace. But Baru had a different outlook. Instead of making him feel unmotivated, it fueled him. He took it as a challenge. A burning sensation stirred in his heart.

So that means the best option is to keep fighting, no matter what, huh? He grinned. Ya know, that’s pretty deep. Maybe I should be a philosopher.