NOVEL WEB Chapter 2: A delusional young man
[The battle will end when only ten warriors remain standing. Do what you can to survive. Use any means necessary.]
A wave of dizziness overtook Damien.
The next moment, he found himself in a vast, featureless expanse.
White.
An endless, suffocating white stretched beyond the horizon, so pure and pristine it felt unnatural.
For someone accustomed to the shadows, the dimly lit alleys, and the bloodstained corners of the world, this sterile brightness was unsettling. It felt like a trap, a deception wrapped in purity.
But he couldn't afford to dwell on it.
The cold, emotionless voice still echoed in his mind.
His senses sharpened, his instincts kicking in. Shock was a luxury he couldn't afford.
He scanned his surroundings with cautious vigilance.
And then—
The acrid stench of burnt flesh invaded his nostrils.
A sudden sting shot through his palm.
He hissed, shaking his hand. When he looked down, a strange rune had seared itself onto his skin—its twisted lines forming the unmistakable outline of a minotaur.
A moment later, as if responding to his curiosity, a glowing message appeared before his eyes.
[Basic Strength Rune - Increases the wielder's strength by 20%.]
Damien's eyes narrowed.
Bullshit.
He had spent years honing his body, pushing himself to survive in a world where weakness meant death. If his strength had truly increased, he would have felt it instantly.
But he felt the same. No newfound power coursed through his veins, no surge of raw energy.
A useless trick?
Before he could analyze further—
The air rippled.
His ears twitched.
Something was fast approaching...a foe?
Damien didn't turn his head, but his lips curled into a grin.
"How stupid," he muttered, amused. "Wasting stamina like that…"
From the corner of his vision, a blur of motion—someone was charging straight at him.
A young man with wild eyes and maniacal grin.
Damien recognized that expression instantly. He'd seen it before, in men who had abandoned reason for the thrill of violence.
But this boy wasn't just eager to fight.
He was ecstatic.
Damien's gaze flickered lower.
A sword. Hidden behind his back.
So, some people got weapons too…
His grin widened.
That sword is mine.
But instead of preparing for battle, Damien froze, his body stiffening like prey caught in fear. His eyes widened in panic, an anxious tremble running through his frame.
He acting was almost perfect.
The charging boy saw this and snorted in disdain.
"Trash!" he spat, his voice filled with contempt.
Roan.
A high school nobody, a teenage degenerate. A boy whose life revolved around fleeting pleasures, online fights, and self-indulgence.
Suddenly finding himself in a strange environment.
He should have been afraid.
Should have been confused.
But no.
When his soul left his body after an excessive session of "personal entertainment," Roan didn't panic.
He felt alive.
This was his dream.
A chance to wield power, to be the protagonist of his own twisted fantasy.
To kill.
To conquer.
"GYAT!" he howled, unsheathing his sword in a dramatic flourish.
His heart burned with the thrill of the moment. The terrified expression on the older man's face filled his heart exhilaration.
This was what he was meant for.
"Die for me, old man!!"
Roan lunged, blade gleaming under the endless white sky.
Fear.
That was all he saw in Damien's face.
The older man's legs shook violently, sweat dripped down his forehead. His voice trembled.
"Y-Young man… Are you out of your mind?" Damien stammered. "You really believe these lunatics? The authorities will be here any moment! Put the weapon down before it's too late!"
The sheer patheticness of it disgusted Roan.
Weaklings.
Cowards who refused to face reality.
"I hate people like you."
He gripped his sword tighter.
"Just die."
Roan swung with all his strength, aiming for the man's throat—
For a moment, a small smile appeared on Demian face.
And that was when Damien moved.
Fast.
A quick side-step, a pivot—fluid, precise, practiced.
Roan's blade sliced through empty air.
His eyes widened in shock.
Before he could recover—
Bang!
An elbow to the throat.
Something shattered, intense pain shot through.
Blinding, unbearable pain.
Roan gasped, his vision darkening, his legs giving out beneath him.
Thud.
He collapsed.
His fingers twitched around the sword handle, trying to raise it again—
But his body refused to move.
A lifeless husk.
Damien exhaled, stretching his fingers. His expression unreadable.
That was too easy.
It should have taken two, maybe three blows.
Yet a single strike had crushed the boy's windpipe.
Damien looked down at his own hands, flexing his fingers.
Then, a slow smile crept across his face.
The rune works after all.
To an outsider, it might have seemed like he won effortlessly.
But every move—from his trembling act to his feigned desperation—had been calculated.
Act weak.
Make the fool drop his guard.
Strike at the perfect moment.
And now…
He had a sword.
Just then—
[A small bit of negative karma negated.]
[First kill achieved.]
[Ranking updated: 543.]
[Map successfully unlocked.]
Damien's smile widened.
This game… was going to be fun.
....
The strange white space contained nothing but human fighting for survival, there were no tree's .. no rock's to hide behind.
It was placed that showed no mercy.
Holding the sword in his hand, Damien figure moved leisurely as if he was taking a stroll in the park.
His eyes were on the small circle at the corner of his vision, a hud displaying a map.
This red dot should be my present position.
Judging by the circle's diameter, the white expanse seemed to be roughly ten kilometres in diameter.
No wonder I didn't encounter anyone, ten kilometres was a lot for only one thousand people.
Just then--
Damien steps halted, he noticed a few figure in the distance.
Three men and two women, holding a variety of weapons in their hands.
He didn't immediately rush but closely watched the scene from th distance.
Just then, he noticed something which made him frown.
A little girl not more than ten years old, was hiding behind one of the woman with tears in her eye's.
The sight greatly disturbed him.