Chapter 102 - The Horrors of a Collab Scenario

Despite Adam’s initial attempts to keep the group focused on what truly mattered, the discussion about the team name had undeniably lightened the atmosphere.

What had started as an offhand suggestion quickly spiraled into an animated debate, complete with mock arguments, ridiculous suggestions, and even a few unexpected moments of camaraderie. The tension that had weighed so heavily on their shoulders only moments before had dissipated, little by little, until it almost felt like a distant memory.

Even Adam and Li, who had been locked in a confrontation earlier, seemed noticeably more at ease. The boy hadn’t even realized it until his eyes met Kazue’s. She was already looking at him, and the moment their gazes connected, she grinned broadly and raised a hand, forming a ‘V’ with her fingers in a clear sign of victory.

Something about that simple gesture struck him. It wasn’t just the playful teasing he had come to expect from Kazue—it was something intentional. A realization dawned on him. This whole exchange, the entire silly, drawn-out debate over the name, hadn’t just been for fun. It had been deliberate.

Kazue had done it on purpose.

She had known they were on edge. She had known they needed a distraction, something to ground them after everything that had happened. And somehow, without even making it obvious, she had orchestrated it.

Adam found himself smiling, just slightly. It wasn’t much, but it was genuine. He had spent so much time viewing himself as the sole rational mind in their group, the one who had to keep things together, and keep things moving forward. And yet, time and time again, his teammates had proven that they weren’t just reckless or impulsive—they had their own ways of holding the group together.

Maybe he didn’t give them enough credit.

That thought had already been lingering in the back of his mind for a while, but now it felt more tangible, undeniable. It wasn’t just about this moment—this lighthearted conversation that had eased the tension. It was about everything leading up to it.

Back in the last scenario, when he was about to lose control, when the mutated Jiang Shi he had unwittingly created almost overwhelmed him, it had been Kazue and Drake who had pulled him back. Kazue had thrown herself into danger without hesitation, and Drake had stood by him without question as well. He hadn’t asked them to. He hadn’t even realized how close he had been to the edge until they had stepped in.

And yet, despite all of that, despite everything they had done, he still kept falling into the same pattern—thinking he had to shoulder everything alone, that no one else could understand or help. But time and time again, they had proved him wrong. Maybe it wasn’t just them who had changed since arriving in this world. Maybe he had too.

Was that what friendship was? He wasn’t sure. He wasn’t even certain if that was something he could define. But if nothing else, he knew he was grateful for them.

Eventually, the conversation wound down, and they all agreed that they would settle on a name later. For now, there were more pressing matters to discuss. The group, now significantly calmer, settled into a more comfortable formation, some sitting, others leaning against whatever was nearby. The difference in mood was almost palpable—there was no longer an air of dread suffocating them, only a quiet determination.

Adam exhaled, glancing once more at Li, who had been notably quiet ever since the name debate had ended. This time, his approach was different. He didn’t push, didn’t demand. He simply met Li’s gaze and asked, his voice steady but free of any previous frustration,

“Li… can you tell us now? What exactly happened in your collab scenario?”

Li remained silent for a moment, his expression unreadable. His hands were clasped together, knuckles slightly white from the force of his grip. It was clear that whatever was running through his mind wasn’t pleasant.

Kazue and Drake, who had been joking just minutes ago, were now watching attentively. Chloe, usually brimming with energy, sat unusually still, her playful demeanor subdued. Even Katya, who was often wrapped up in her own world where Kazue was the only person who mattered, was listening.

Li closed his eyes briefly, taking in a deep breath. When he exhaled, it was as if he was letting go of something heavy.

“…Alright.”

He finally said, his voice quieter than usual.

“I’ll tell you.”

A pause. Then, his gaze darkened, and with a weight that sent an unspoken chill through the room, he added,

“But just so you know… this is why I believe we’re all screwed.”

Silence settled over the group. And then, as if the world itself was shifting, the past began to unfold before them.

————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

At the time, Li was still a novice—an outsider thrown into this bizarre, artificial system of survival with little understanding of how things truly worked. It was only his second scenario, and despite the constant pressure of knowing he could die at any moment, he had adapted surprisingly well. He wasn’t hardened yet, nor as distant as he would later become. He had still been capable of trusting, of finding comfort in those around him.

And in some ways, “The Unbreakable Will of Us All” had made that easier. The team had been a solid unit, built on experience and camaraderie. The veterans who had survived multiple scenarios had taken the newcomers under their wing, teaching them how to navigate this world of constant danger. Unlike now, Li hadn’t been alone.

He had even made connections—shallow ones, perhaps, but they had mattered at the time. Among the rookies who had entered the system with him was a young man named Teo, another newcomer who had latched onto Li as a survival instinct. The two had quickly fallen into an easy companionship, not quite close enough to be called friends, but trusting each other enough to stick together.

Alongside a few others, they had formed a small group, a silent understanding passing between them. None of them knew what they were doing. None of them truly grasped the depth of the horrors they would eventually face, but at least they weren’t alone.

Their first scenario had been easy. Too easy in fact.

The veterans had handled most of the threats while the rookies, Li included, had simply observed and followed orders. It was barely a test of survival; it was a guided lesson. By the end of it, Li had barely lifted a finger. He had earned the minimum hundred points, just like the other newcomers, but they had all been advised against spending them too soon.

"Save them."

One of the older members had told him, patting him on the shoulder as they returned to the lobby.

"There’s no point wasting them on cheap stuff now. Wait until you can afford something worthwhile."

Li had nodded, trusting their judgment. It had seemed logical.

And so, when the next scenario was finally assigned, none of them had expected anything out of the ordinary.

At first, they had barely reacted to the new notification. There had been murmurs of confusion, some mild curiosity, but ultimately, no one had thought much of it. A Collab sounded like it would be a cooperative mission—two teams working toward a common goal. It didn’t sound particularly dangerous. If anything, most had assumed it would make things easier.

After all, they had Friederike.

Their leader had been the heart of the team, and her presence alone had been enough to crush any lingering doubts.

Friederike Eisenwald was an imposing woman, her sheer presence enough to command attention the moment she stepped into a room. She was tall, her body honed with the strength of a warrior, built like someone who had known battle long before she had ever been pulled into this twisted game. Her golden-blonde hair was always tied back into a high ponytail, and her sharp blue eyes held a quiet but unwavering intensity.

Something was reassuring about her, an unshakable force of will that made it easy to believe that, no matter what happened, she would be able to handle it.

Yet, despite her fearsome presence, Friederike had never been cruel. She had been strict, yes, and her expectations for her team had been high, but she had cared. She had protected them, guided them, and made sure no one was left behind. She was the kind of leader people wanted to follow.

She had also been their strongest member by far.

Even before Li’s first scenario, she had already been the highest-ranked user in the group, and when they returned from their mission, she had officially ascended to Rank A Potential.

Li hadn’t understood what that meant at the time. But when the veterans had erupted into celebration, he had realized it was something worth being proud of.

"What’s the big deal about Rank A?"

Li had asked Teo in a hushed voice during the gathering. Teo had shrugged, watching as some of the older members clinked their glasses together in a toast.

"No idea, but everyone seems excited, so I guess it’s a good thing?"

That had been enough for Li. If their strongest member had just gotten stronger, then they had nothing to fear.

And so, when the next notification arrived, no one panicked.

They skimmed over the details, barely giving them any thought. Another team would be present, a group called “Hunt3rs”, but no one paid much attention to it.

"Guess we’ll be working with another team."

One of the veterans had said, stretching their arms behind their head.

"Could be useful. More people means more firepower."

"What if they don’t want to cooperate?"

Someone had asked.

"Then Friederike will handle it."

Another had responded, as if that were an obvious fact. That was all there was to it, no one was concerned… No one hesitated.

Even Li, who had always been cautious by nature, had felt safe. With Friederike leading them, there was no reason to be afraid.

And so, they had continued as if nothing was out of the ordinary. The atmosphere had remained light, spirits high from the recent celebration, and not even the looming approach of their next mission had been enough to dampen the mood.

By the time the notification for their deployment flashed before their eyes, no one had second-guessed anything, not even the scenario’s setting, a world where giants of every kind rule over the land… They had gone in blindly, and it would cost them everything.

The moment they arrived in the new world, it became painfully clear just how different this place was from anything they had encountered before. The air was thick and heavy, carrying the scent of damp earth and the crisp, clean aroma of ancient trees.

But what stood out the most—what left every single one of them breathless—was the sheer scale of everything. The world was vast in a way that defied logic. The grass beneath their feet was not mere grass but towering stalks that reached their waists, bending gently under an invisible wind.

The trees were colossal, stretching hundreds of meters into the sky, their bark thick like castle walls, their branches so massive that they could have served as bridges between mountains. Even the rocks scattered along the landscape were impossibly large, some standing taller than buildings, their jagged edges hinting at forces far beyond human comprehension. In the distance, a vast mountain range loomed, its peaks vanishing into thick clouds, their true height unknowable. Everything in this world made them feel like mere insects, insignificant specks in a land that belonged to beings far beyond their own stature.

Li turned in slow circles, his mind struggling to grasp the reality of what he was seeing. The weight of the world pressed down on him, making him hyper-aware of just how small and fragile they were here. It was both awe-inspiring and utterly terrifying.

Despite the overwhelming environment, the team reacted swiftly, moving with the practiced efficiency of a well-trained unit. Tons of experience surviving in this twisted system had drilled into them the instinct to act first and process emotions later.

"Alright, listen up."

Friederike’s voice rang out, cutting through the silent awe and forcing everyone’s focus back to her. She stood with the confidence of a true leader, her stance firm and unshaken.

"It seems we have a week before the second team arrives, so we’re going to use that time wisely. Priority is scouting the terrain and establishing a defensible position. We don’t know if this world holds dangers beyond the obvious, and I don’t intend to find out the hard way."

The group acknowledged her words without hesitation, already mentally preparing for the tasks ahead. The veterans exchanged knowing looks, their expressions filled with amusement rather than concern.

"Seven days?"

One of them chuckled, crossing his arms.

"That’s more than enough time. Hell, we might clear the scenario before they even show up."

Another smirked, rolling his shoulders.

"Yeah, maybe we should leave them a little gift when they arrive. A welcome party, just to let them know we were here first."

Laughter rippled through the group, a stark contrast to the looming, overwhelming environment around them. Even Li, despite his lingering unease, found himself feeling reassured by their confidence.

They were strong, they were prepared, and more than anything, they had their trustworthy leader. No matter how overwhelming this world seemed, it was impossible to doubt her leadership.

But then… A system notification appeared.

⌠Notice: L-class Plot Device: “Early Bird Gets the Worm” has been used⌡ ⌠Warning: The team "Hunt3rs" has forced their entry into the scenario ahead of schedule!⌡

Silence fell over them like a suffocating blanket. The atmosphere shifted immediately, tension creeping into the air like a slow-moving poison. There was no more laughter. No more casual bravado.

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

"Wait… what?"

Someone muttered, their voice barely above a whisper.

"They can do that?"

Another asked, eyes darting toward their teammates for answers. Li felt the change, the way the previously relaxed stance of the veterans stiffened just slightly. It wasn’t outright fear, not yet, but the uncertainty was there, crawling beneath their skin.

And then he noticed something else… Friederike wasn’t moving.

She stood frozen, her breath coming in shallow, uneven gasps. The color had drained from her face, her expression locked in pure, unfiltered horror. Sweat rolled down her temples, and her normally sharp, commanding eyes were wide and unblinking, staring at something none of them could see.

Li barely had time to open his mouth before she screamed.

"Move now! They know where we are!"

The sheer panic in her voice sent the entire team into disarray. Confusion erupted instantly, voices overlapping in chaotic bursts.

"What are you talking about?!"

"Who knows where we are?!"

"Friederike, what—?"

But before any of them could react, the sky roared.

A sound unlike anything they had ever heard before ripped through the heavens, a deafening mechanical howl that rattled their very bones. It was loud—so loud—a metallic bellow that swallowed everything else, drowning out thoughts, drowning out their breaths. The very air vibrated with its presence.

At first, it was just a shift in the light, subtle enough that it could have been a passing cloud drifting across the sun. But then, the darkness deepened, stretching unnaturally across the landscape, casting long, jagged shadows that sprawled over the massive terrain.

The air itself grew heavier, thick with an unplaceable tension, as if the very atmosphere recoiled from whatever was approaching. The ground trembled, and as the first scream of metal tore through the sky, Li felt something inside him freeze.

He turned his gaze upward, and what he saw made his breath catch in his throat.

Descending through the clouds, cutting through the heavens like an executioner's blade, was a warship.

No—not just a space warship… A titan of metal and fire.

It loomed over them like a god descending to the mortal plane, its sheer mass an insult to the laws of nature.

Its hull was vast, an unbroken slab of dark, gleaming steel reinforced with interlocking plates of heavy armor, thick enough to withstand the wrath of a thousand armies. Dozens of towers jutted from its back like spires of an unholy cathedral, each lined with weaponry—cannons the size of buildings, missile bays bristling like a beast’s fangs, and rows of energy turrets glowing with a malevolent, pulsating light.

The vessel’s engines roared with raw power, a sound so overwhelming it was as if the sky itself was being ripped apart to make way for its arrival. The closer it drew, the more suffocating its presence became, a living embodiment of destruction, casting everything beneath it in an unnatural twilight.

This was not a ship. It was a fortress in the sky. It was a harbinger of death… It was the “Hunt3rs”.

"Get to cover!"

Friederike’s voice snapped like a whip, raw and desperate, shaking them from their frozen stupor.

She was already moving before the words had fully left her lips, dashing to the front of the group with inhuman speed. Her coat billowed behind her as she thrust both arms outward, her voice booming with unshakable force.

"Great Protection Mandala!"

A brilliant explosion of golden energy erupted from her hands, expanding outward in a flash of intricate, swirling patterns. The massive mandala unfurled in the air, its sacred symbols weaving together into an impenetrable barrier that enveloped the entire team. The sheer power radiating from it was staggering, its glow illuminating the battlefield like a second sun, pulsing with divine light. The shield hummed, anchoring itself to the earth, an unyielding wall against the terror descending from above.

And then, the warship opened fire.

A thunderous shockwave split the sky as an onslaught of missiles came raining down, streaking through the heavens like vengeful stars. They screamed through the air in violent arcs, their trails leaving behind columns of scorching heat. The cannons followed, belching fire and steel, each detonation sending pulses of pure devastation into the land below.

The force of the impact was unimaginable—the very earth cracked beneath the assault, fractures splitting across the ground like veins of molten fury. The landscape was torn apart piece by piece, reduced to nothing but obliterated ruin.

The enormous forest didn’t stand a chance.

The towering trees, each as massive as skyscrapers, stood as ancient colossi of the land—until they didn’t. In mere seconds, their immense trunks, thick enough to dwarf entire buildings, snapped apart like brittle kindling, unable to withstand the sheer brutality of the bombardment.

The once-endless canopy of leaves and branches, large enough to cast entire valleys in shadow, was reduced to cinders, flames devouring them until nothing remained but the skeletal remains of what once had been.

Meanwhile, the mountains—not hills, not ridges, but true titanic formations of rock and earth—screamed as they were torn asunder, their peaks obliterated by the relentless assault. Chunks of stone the size of entire cities crashed downward, sending shockwaves through the ruined landscape as avalanches of destruction buried everything in their path. The sheer force of the attack didn’t just scorch the land—it reshaped it, turning a world of giants into a graveyard of fire, smoke, and ruin.

And yet… The mandala held. Beneath its golden light, they endured.

The sacred symbols twisted and pulsed, absorbing the rain of fire, shuddering under the strain but refusing to break. The explosions outside turned the sky into a swirling inferno of heat and destruction, yet inside, within the shield’s embrace, there was nothing but the desperate sound of their own breathing.

Friederike’s arms shook from the strain, her entire body trembling as she poured every last ounce of her energy into keeping the shield standing. The radiance of the barrier flickered, pulses of energy crackling through the runes like overloaded circuits, but she did not yield.

Seconds stretched into eternity.

Then… silence. The final missile struck. The last cannon blast faded. The storm of destruction ceased, leaving behind only the sound of smoldering ruin.

And then, with an exhausted gasp, the mandala shattered.

Golden fragments of divine energy burst apart, scattering like dying stars, their light fading as they dispersed into nothingness. The once-unbreakable barrier vanished, leaving them exposed to the ruined world around them.

Friederike collapsed to her knees, gasping for breath, her body trembling from the sheer effort of holding back the storm. Her arms—once strong and unyielding—were burned, scorched raw from the energy backlash, her fingers twitching from the pain. Sweat dripped from her face as she struggled to lift her head, her chest rising and falling in labored breaths.

But they were alive… Barely.

Li took a shuddering step forward, his mind reeling as he looked at what remained of the world around them. The forest was gone, reduced to an endless expanse of scorched, blackened ground. The mountains that had once stood tall were broken, their shattered remnants scattered across the land like the bones of fallen titans.

And above them—the spaceship waited.

The warship hovered like an omen of death, its engines thrumming as if satisfied with its opening act. It had tested their defenses.

Just as the remaining members of the team rushed forward to aid their fallen leader, Li’s eyes caught something—something impossibly distant, yet unmistakable. High above, atop one of the colossal towers of the warship, a flicker of light pulsed for the briefest of moments. His breath hitched. Even though the sheer scale of the vessel made it kilometers away, even though he had no way of knowing what it was, an instinct deep in his gut screamed that whatever was coming next was far worse than what they had just endured.

And then it happened… A shrill, unnatural whistling pierced the air, growing louder as an eerie energy shot skyward, vanishing into the vast blue expanse above. For a fleeting second, the world was silent, almost peaceful—before detonation.

High above, the sky ruptured. A blinding explosion bloomed like a second sun, and from its heart, something began to emerge—falling, growing, burning. The light dimmed just enough for them to see.

A rain of colossal, burning boulders, each easily the size of a city district, descended upon them like a vengeful storm of meteors. The air trembled as they streaked downward, their immense mass turning the sky into a field of hellfire.

"Meteors!"

One of the veterans screamed, his voice raw with horror. Friederike, despite barely standing, forced herself up once more, her body swaying but her spirit unbroken.

"Run! All of you, run!"

Panic surged through the survivors. The moment those words left her lips, the group scattered, sprinting in desperation—but not all of them.

The veterans stood their ground. They didn’t hesitate. They turned back toward the falling inferno, hands glowing with power, eyes filled with grim resolve. The newbies were already too far, too weak to fight against something like this—but the veterans? They would hold the line.

Swords slashed the sky, tearing through flames. Barriers of shimmering light surged upward, colliding against the descending boulders. Projectiles of energy shot forward, exploding upon impact. Everything they had, every ounce of power they could muster, was unleashed in an effort to break apart the deadly storm before it reached those who still had a chance to escape.

But they couldn’t stop them all. One by one, they began to fall.

A crushing impact. A scream silenced too soon. A veteran who had been leading the group just moments ago was obliterated beneath a falling rock, his barrier failing at the last second. Another was thrown aside like a ragdoll by the shockwave of an explosion. The meteors came down like divine punishment, and there was nothing they could do but keep fighting, even as they died one by one.

Li ran. He ran harder than he ever had in his life. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t think. He couldn’t process the terror overtaking his body. The world around him, once something he had begun to believe could be a second home, was collapsing.

He had believed they were safe, he had convinced himself that as long as they followed Friederike’s lead, as long as they listened to the veterans, everything would work out in the end.

He had trusted in the strength of their team, in their combined efforts, in the idea that they were not the weak ones, not after everything they had survived. But all of it, every illusion of security he had built up in his mind, shattered beneath the sheer, crushing force of reality. They had never been safe. Not for a second.

Around him, the remaining novices scattered in a blind panic, their coordination completely collapsing under the weight of sheer terror. Some tripped over the ruined ground, their hands scraping against the dirt as they scrambled to get up, while others let out cries of fear as they barely managed to dodge the blazing boulders crashing down around them.

The sound of destruction filled the air—splintering wood, crumbling rock, the earth itself tearing apart beneath the impact of the falling meteors. There was no destination, no strategy, no plan. They weren’t running toward anywhere. They were just running.

Li knew he should have done the same—kept his eyes forward, focused on survival, not looked back. But some part of him, some desperate, foolish part, refused to let go of the fleeting hope that maybe, just maybe, she was still holding on. His body moved before his mind could stop it. He turned. Just once. Just for a second. And he immediately regretted it.

Through the blazing inferno, through the cascading destruction, Friederike still stood. She was alone. Utterly, completely alone. Golden chains coiled and lashed out through the air, gleaming like divine serpents as they tore through the descending fire, shattering boulders before they could reach the earth.

She was a force of nature, an unbreakable wall against the apocalypse itself. Her body burned with effort, sweat mixing with the blood from her scorched arms, but she did not falter. She would not falter. Because if she did, they would all die.

Li’s breath caught in his throat. His hands clenched into fists. He should be helping. He should be doing something. But what could he even do? What could any of them do?

And then it happened. A second light, not fiery red like the meteors but cold, piercing blue, flashed from the warship. Li barely had time to process it before he saw it—a single arrow, impossibly fast, streaking through the sky like a comet, its ethereal wings cutting through the smoke-filled air with terrifying precision. It moved faster than anything before it, faster than the meteors, faster than thought itself, and it found its mark.

The golden chains froze mid-motion. Friederike jerked violently, her entire body locking up as the arrow punched through her stomach, impaling her in one brutal, unrelenting motion.

Blood splattered across the dirt, dark and vivid against the burning chaos. Her lips parted as a choked sound escaped—half gasp, half cough—before a violent shudder wracked her frame. Her fingers, once so firm and commanding, now trembled as she reached for the wound, as if she couldn’t quite believe it was there.

Li’s vision blurred. His heart hammered against his ribs. Friederike, the unshakable pillar of their team, the one they all looked to for guidance, the one who had promised they would make it out together, was falling.

Her knees buckled, her body slowly tipping forward as if gravity had only just remembered to pull her down. The chains, once a brilliant beacon of protection, flickered, cracked, and then shattered into nothing.

Li didn’t have time to see her hit the ground. Because he was already running again. The moment the golden light vanished, the battle was over. There was no more fight to be had, no more defenses left to break. They had been annihilated.

He barely registered when he stumbled into the darkness of a crevice, his body slamming into the cold stone walls, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He wasn’t alone—the few remaining survivors had made it as well, trembling, panting, some of them sobbing quietly in the suffocating silence. But none of them spoke. They didn’t dare.

For three days, they remained in that cave, trapped between the lingering terror of what lay outside and the crushing despair of what had been lost. They did not eat. They did not drink. They did not move. Every second stretched into eternity, their bodies aching from exhaustion, their minds fractured under the weight of what they had witnessed.

And then, finally, the system spoke. A single, hollow chime, indicating the end of the scenario… An indication that the other team had finished it.

And just like that, with a blinding flash of white light, they were back in the lobby.

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Li finished recounting the events of that nightmare scenario, his voice even but carrying a weight that could not be ignored. There was no embellishment in his words, no exaggeration—just the brutal, unfiltered truth of what had happened, of what he had lived through.

His gaze remained cold and distant as he finally stated, with the unwavering certainty of someone who had already lost too much, that this was the reality of a collab. There was no camaraderie, no shared victory, no cooperation beyond what was absolutely necessary.

Ultimately, the stronger team crushed the weaker for the sake of points. It was a cycle, a system designed to reward those who were willing to step on the throats of the others, and no matter how much stronger they had gotten, no matter how much progress they had made, it would never be enough against truly experienced veterans.

A heavy silence settled over the group. There were no words of comfort, no reassurances, just the oppressive weight of reality sinking in. Some looked down, others shifted uncomfortably, but no one spoke, not until Drake finally exhaled and broke the silence.

"That’s unfortunate, I’m truly sorry."

He admitted, his voice carrying a strange mix of understanding and defiance.

"But that was your past. It doesn’t mean that’s what’s going to happen to us now. We aren’t going up against “Hunt3rs”. Maybe we’ll get lucky this time."

Adam, who had been standing quietly with his arms crossed, immediately shook his head.

"No. We can’t count on that."

His tone was firm, unwavering.

"Luck has nothing to do with this. We don’t know how the system determines matchups. We don’t know if there are fixed parameters or if it’s completely arbitrary. All we know for sure is that one of the teams, “Dragon Utopia”, has been classified as stronger than us. That’s a fact. But that doesn’t mean we’re weak. We have an advantage in that we know we’re being hunted and future development, not to mention Drake himself. We can do something with that… The real problem is that they have all of our information, while we have nothing on them."

Katya, who had been quietly listening until now, finally spoke, her voice laced with amusement.

"That’s not entirely true."

She mused, drawing a few glances.

"There might be a way to dig up some information on them. Maybe not much, but something."

Adam narrowed his eyes slightly, his analytical mind immediately latching onto the possibility.

"How?!"

His skepticism was evident, but there was also the unmistakable glint of curiosity, the same relentless pursuit of knowledge that drove him to survive in the first place.

Katya hesitated for a moment, as if weighing whether it was worth the effort. Her fingers tapped idly against her arm, her usual self-assured demeanor momentarily replaced by something more calculating. But before she could make up her mind, Kazue, who had been watching eagerly from the side, tilted her head, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. She leaned in slightly, clasping her hands together in what could only be described as an excited plea.

"Ohhh, Katya, do you know something? What is it?"

Katya’s expression flickered for a second. She tried to maintain her usual aloofness, but when she turned to glance at Kazue, her cold exterior wavered. She sighed, shaking her head with a small smirk before finally stepping away from her friend and Kurayami, making her way toward Adam and the shop terminal.

"Fine, but don’t expect too much."

Without another word, she reached out and interacted with the interface, pressing through a new menu with options that none of them could explore before because they were sealed. Then, suddenly, something changed. A large system window expanded above the shop, its text displayed for everyone to see.

[Some online functions will remain locked until the team has completed their first recorded "Collab" of the current season.] [Would you like a list of currently available online options?] [Y/N]

Katya didn’t even hesitate. With a quick motion, she pressed the [Y].