The statue bowed low in silent reverence, as if offering thanks for being shown the light. Then, without a word, it moved aside, revealing the door behind it.
The ground rumbled. The door behind the statue groaned and began to open.
A torrent of light—blinding, pure—poured through the widening crack. For a moment, both Longs and Cydal turned away, shielding their faces. It was more light than either had seen in their entire lives.
Suddenly—footsteps.
Dozens of them.
But they weren't coming from the newly opened door.
No—they came from behind. From the deep, winding darkness of the basement.
Cydal and Longs turned in unison.
Their eyes widened.
Emerging from the gloom, like a slow-moving tide, was the entire Conspiracy Theory Club. Every single member—except Kowa, Randa, Lal, and Isaac—stood there in awe, breath caught in their throats.
Some looked thrilled, their eyes gleaming with excitement. Others seemed confused, anxious, even pale from shock.
And then, parting the crowd like a prophet through the sea, came Shari.
Her steps were slow but deliberate, her expression equal parts disbelief and smug satisfaction.
"I-I can't believe it..." she gasped, eyes locked on the glowing doorway. Then she turned to the others, voice rising, arms dramatically flung open. "Do you see it disbelievers?! Have your eyes opened to the truth now?! I told you all something was going on down here, but nooo, you said I've lost my mind. So how shall you explain this?!"
The crowd shifted awkwardly—some smiling sheepishly, others nodding, mildly impressed by the scene she was so clearly owning.
Shari continued, now in full theatrical preacher mode. "Behold! A gateway to another world stands before us! Reality has torn—and we were right!" She spun dramatically and faced Cydal, bowing low as if before a king. "We thank you, Cydal. Truly. You have fulfilled our prophecy!"
Cydal blinked at her, completely unimpressed.
"What is she doing here?" he muttered to Longs.
"I thought you guys went to the funeral?." longs added
Shari stepped forward, her voice trembling with sincerity. "Please, Cydal sir," she pleaded, clutching her notebook to her chest. "Please let us in. Our club has dedicated its entire existence to finding something like this, we can't miss this.
"We won't get in your way—we just want to observe. Record. Chronicle the unknown that lies behind the door."
Cydal's tone hardened. "You don't understand what are you talking about. This isn't some school project. It's dangerous."
"We understand," Shari said firmly. "And we're prepared."
His gaze darkened. The students around him were lost, awkward, half-asleep—none of them taking it seriously. Most seemed to think it was just another stage play or some kind of elaborate prank.
"Most of you might not even make it back," he said coldly. "You need to start being a bit more logical about this."
"You'll likely die the second you step inside," he added flatly.
That made the room go still.
Shari laughed nervously. "Wh-what are you talking about?! You're being so dramatic!"
But the impact of Cydal's words had already rippled through the club. Eyes darted. Hands clenched. A wave of fear rolled through the room like a chill wind. Whispers broke out—sharp, hushed, like static ripping through silence.
Cydal was already tied to murder. Now, hearing him speak so calmly of death… it was no longer something they could brush off as a game. A demonic statue, a strange gate, and a known killer in their midst—whatever this was, it wasn't fun anymore.
Panic set in, then—apologies.
One by one, students stepped back. Some with regret, others with outright terror. Quiet sorrys and good lucks were mumbled before they turned and left.
Only a small handful remained.
Shari's eyes burned with betrayal.
"You cowards!" she shouted after them. "If you walk out that door, you're banned! You hear me?! BANNED from the club!"
She whirled around to a girl slinking away. "Katty—hey, Katty, at least you stay! My handwriting sucks! I need you to document this!"
But Katty just kept walking. She didn't even look back.
Shari let out a noise somewhere between a scoff and a shriek. "Ugh, the nerve! Leaving me like that—she's definitely out of the club! Don't even send me mails!"
Among the few remaining students, one couple stood out the most.
The girl clung tightly to her boyfriend, her chest pressing warmly against his arm. Her name was shaarmila, and her boyfriend was kane.
"This is so exciting," she whispered, her eyes sparkling. "I think this adventure is exactly what we need to rekindle our love."
Kane's face flushed red. Her soft curves were impossible to ignore, but he didn't dare complain—he loved the feeling, even if it left him flustered.
"Things haven't been great between us lately," he admitted, his voice gentle. "But I believe we just need the right place… somewhere special to reconnect."
They both turned to Shari with hopeful eyes.
"Please," he said. "Let us join your team."
The rest of the club members insisted to go as well—they craved thrills,
especially their queen, Shari, so she happily agreed.
Cydal looked at Longs.
He gave a tired smile, shrugged, and sighed.
"Fine."
But his voice turned low.
"Remember the rules, Longs. Stay ten steps behind me."
But Longs replied with a crooked grin,
"But the rule became you being ten steps behind me."
Cydal didn't argue.
In fact, this is what he'd wanted all along.
It was going smoothly. Too smoothly.
Longs, along with the rest of the club, walked through the door—
like a herd of unaware sheep led to the altar of the unknown.
Longs was the first to step inside.
For a moment, everything vanished.
No sound, no air, no color.
Just blinding, infinite white—
as if nothing existed yet.
As if the world hadn't loaded.
Then, he heard noises, it was a computerized voice of a woman, it began speaking.
[Welcome to the Time-Augmented Reality Training.]
[Time chamber has been activated.]
A strange glow passed over Longs' body, scanning him entirely,
as though peeling back every layer of his existence.
Once it finished, the voice continued.
[SYSTEM SCAN COMPLETE]
> Initializing Subject Profile...
> Subject Class: None-Player
> Species: Human
> Mana Detected: NONE
[PHYSICAL PARAMETERS]
Strength: 84/100
— High-density muscle mass. Capable of overpowering low-tier entities.
Stamina: 76/100
— Above human average. Can endure prolonged physical stress.
Speed: 59/100
— Moderate agility. Limited by size and muscle weight.
[MENTAL PARAMETERS]
Intelligence: 39/100
— Below average reasoning. Limited problem-solving capabilities.
IQ: 87
— Struggles with abstract thinking. Likely to forget why he walked into a room.
Adaptability: 51/100
— Can adjust under pressure... eventually.
Combat Instincts: 46/100
— Relies on reaction over strategy..
Then the next line struck like a bell before war:
"Beginner level stage has been activated."
"Welcome to training."
"Today's opponents will be… Grimhounds."
The whiteness cracked.
Reality bled into place.
Buildings rose, destroyed and ash-covered.
Sky turned red, soaked in a permanent dusk.
No one existed. No birds, no people.
Time had stopped.
Far in the distance, towers loomed—
each with a giant, ominous clock.
The first clock…
stuck at 1 o clock.
Everyone slowly stepped into the room, their eyes widening in awe and disbelief.
They were stunned—fascinated—by what lay before them.
Shaarmila clung to her boyfriend, her body trembling.
"It's... cold in here," she whispered, pressing against him.
A chilling wind swirled through the space, carrying low, howling voices that grew louder by the minute—as if something unseen was rapidly approaching.
But no one noticed. They were too distracted… mesmerized by the discovery unfolding before them.
Kane's brows furrowed, unease settling in. He pulled her closer, his grip tightening.
"Where... where exactly are we?" he asked under his breath. "Is this even safe?"
Cydal followed them inside, silent and watchful.
Shari, meanwhile, was already documenting everything, her club members gathering around in curiosity and awe.
"Incredible!" she exclaimed. "It looks like an enormous city—way bigger than ours. Look at the way these buildings are constructed… is this what cities outside our town are like too?"
But then, a strange question echoed in her mind.
Why is it so empty? We haven't seen a single person approaching us.
Were they attacked? Did their entire civilization collapse?
Suddenly, a piercing scream echoed behind them—Shaarmila shrieked at the top of her lungs.
"Kyaaaaa! It's a monster!"
From the shadows of the broken buildings, a monster emerged. It resembled something between a dog and a wolf—but stood tall on two legs. Its entire body was drenched in matted fur, claws sharp as blades, and its fangs dripped with saliva… and blood.
A nearby screen flickered eerily to life:
[WARNING: You are being surrounded by Grimhounds]
[Input required: What is your defensive action?]
Shari, Longs, and the remaining students froze. Terrified.
The monster advanced toward Shaarmila and Kane.
Kane's entire body trembled, but instinct kicked in. He quickly pushed Sharmila behind him, shielding her with his own body.
"Stay back," he muttered, voice shaking.
But it was too fast.
Shaarmila didn't even see it happen.
One moment Kane was in front of her—
The next, his head was flying through the air.
His eyes were wide open, glistening with tears as if crying one last time before his head hit the ground with a sickening bounce.
Another Grimhound had ambushed from behind.
It pounced on Kane's lifeless body, ripping into him without hesitation. Flesh tore. Bones snapped. Blood sprayed. The first Grimhound joined in, the two creatures growling and snarling—fighting over the remains like rabid wolves.
Shaarmila collapsed, frozen. Her mind couldn't process it.
She didn't even notice she had wet herself.
All she could do was watch—paralyzed—as the monsters tore into her beloved.
They dug into his chest, ripping out his heart… and ate it.
Then—slowly—they turned toward her.
Shari clutched her mouth, trembling.
Longs screamed:
"NO! YOU MONSTERS!"
As one of the Grimhounds leapt at Shaarmila, Longs tackled it mid-air.
They crashed to the ground, wrestling violently.
Longs did everything he could to hold back the creature's claws and snapping jaws.
"C-Cydal... HELP!!" he cried out, desperation choking his voice.
But Cydal just watched.
No emotion. No movement.
The Grimhound overpowered Longs and slashed deep across his chest.
Blood poured through his shredded white shirt.
"AAAGHHHHH!" he screamed.
The Grimhound raised its claws again, aiming for his head—
But suddenly, with a desperate cry, Shari swung a boulder into the monster's skull.
THWACK!
The Grimhound recoiled, releasing Longs.
It turned its head—slowly—toward her.
Shari stood frozen, the bloodied rock still in her hands.
Her body refused to move.
Terror held her in place.
Before the Grimhound could lunge at Shari, its skull exploded—
CRACK!
A massive boulder crushed its head, sending bone and brain matter splattering across the ground.
It collapsed instantly.
But Longs didn't stop.
WHAM.
WHAM.
WHAM.
Again and again, he smashed the monster's head, until its brains spilled out like crushed fruit. His eyes burned with rage and fear, his hands trembling from adrenaline.
By the time he finally dropped the blood-soaked boulder, both he and Shari were drenched. Blood smeared across their faces, soaked their clothes, painted their skin. They stood there—red and trembling.
Longs took a moment, panting heavily, before stumbling toward Shari.
But the horror wasn't over.
All around them, chaos reigned, the other Grimhound was hunting the remaining students.
Screams echoed from every direction. Some had already fallen—limbs torn off, bodies scattered like discarded dolls.
Those still alive cowered behind rubble, hiding wherever they could. Whispering desperate prayers to whatever gods they believed in, hoping to wake up from this nightmare.
Then, in a flash of strange light, the Grimhound Longs defeated vanished.
Poof.
In its place lay a weapon—massive, strange, and grotesque.
A sword, forged from Grimhound bones and claws. It radiated an eerie energy.
Above it, glowing text hovered:
[Bloodfang Cleaver – Level 2]
The screen flickered to Longs:
[Congratulations. You have defeated a Grimhound.]
[Defeating enemies with magic-infused weapons grants a high chance of rare loot.]
Shari shouted at him, pointing:
"What are you standing there for?! Pick it up! We have to save the others!"
Without hesitation, Longs grabbed the weapon.
It looked massive—too big for any human to wield. But somehow, he lifted it easily.
A surge of mana pulsed through his body.
The bone hilt burned against his skin, and a deep, guttural growl echoed through his mind. Red mist curled from the blade's jagged edge as it pulsed like a heartbeat—not his, but something older… hungrier.
Longs staggered, eyes wide.
"Wh-What the hell—?!"
His chest heaved, heart racing with adrenaline—or fear.
The cleaver wasn't just a weapon. It was alive. And it had chosen him.
A violent image surged into his thoughts—bloody fangs, bone-crushing jaws, and eyes that hunted under a red moon.
[Item Acquired: Bloodfang Cleaver]
Beastforged Tier Weapon – Bound to: Longs
Description: Carved from the thighbone of a slain Grimhound—an apex predator that stalked the living and fed on mana. The blade carries the essence of its brutal instincts. Even at rest, it feels like it's snarling in your hand. Holding it too long makes your hands twitch for blood.
[Stats:]
+17 Attack Power
+5 Bleed Damage over 3 seconds
+3% Critical Chance
Passive Ability: Predator's Rhythm – Consecutive hits increase movement speed and aggression. At 3 stacks, next attack causes a heavy stagger.
Trait: Bonepiercer – Ignores a portion of enemy armor. Flesh and sinew are nothing to it.
Unique Resonance: Lupine Hunger – As the bond deepens, the weapon adapts to the wielder's bloodlust. Damage increases based on how much HP is missing. Killing blows briefly restore stamina and feed the blade's rage.
[Level Requirement: None]
[Status: Equipped.]
[Note: The Grimhound's soul lingers, buried in the marrow. You don't wield the blade—you unleash it.]
More text appeared:
[Your opponents are formed from raw mana.]
[Use mana-based weaponry for maximum effectiveness.]
Fueled by rage and fear, Longs rushed blindly toward the next Grimhound, sword in hand.
The beast turned, sensing him.
Longs launched a flurry of attacks—wide, powerful swings, one after another.
But every strike was deflected.
The Grimhound countered with ease, parrying the blows using its claws, its reflexes far superior to Longs' fury.
Then—calmly, casually—Cydal strolled up behind him, hands in his pockets like he was out for a walk.
"Rushing in blindly is your style, I get it," Cydal said, voice low and unimpressed.
"But this isn't a world where you survive on rage and impulse alone."
He stepped closer, eyes watching the Grimhound like a predator.
"Every opponent here has a strength… and a weakness. Observe how they move. How they react before and after each attack.."
Longs turned to him, furious, eyes wet with fury and pain.
He pointed the sword at Cydal.
"What the hell is wrong with you?!" he yelled.
"I begged for your help! People DIED! We lost friends—Kane is DEAD! And you just stood there! How can you be so damn calm?!"
"Eyes to the enemy!" Cydal shouted, stepping between Longs and the snarling Grimhound whose claws had nearly torn open Longs' throat.
Thanks to the warning, Longs raised his sword just in time—metal met claw, and sparks flew on impact.
"Keep your guard at the center," Cydal continued, voice steady even in the chaos. "Grimhounds strike directly—head or chest. They'll try to overpower you. Stay rooted. Dodge at the last second."
The Grimhound lunged again, its grotesque form a blur. Cydal stood inches from Longs, guiding him like a shadow. Each swipe of the beast carved through the air with brutal force, and though Long stumbled back, he adjusted, following Cydal's words like a rhythm.
Blade met claw again. Another dodge. Another deflection.
Then—
"Now! Slash your sword!" Cydal barked, the words flying out the moment the Grimhound paused for a split second, its limbs stiff—like it was out of fuel and recharging.
Long didn't hesitate. With a surge of will, he slashed diagonally through the Grimhound's torso.
Poof!
The creature exploded into mist and mana residue, vanishing in a flash of black and gray.
From the evaporated remains, something fell with a clang against the stone floor—a shield.
There was a strange, glowing plate hovering above the fallen shield, radiating with a faint violet light.
[Wailing Boneplate]
[Level 3]
Shari stepped forward, her eyes narrowing. As her fingers wrapped around the curved surface, a sudden surge of heat crawled up her arm. Her muscles tensed—then pulsed with raw energy. It felt like the shield's mana didn't just empower her—it merged with her.
A sharp flash went off in her mind. Only she could see it:
[Item Acquired: Wailing Boneplate]
Beginner Tier Shield – Bound to: Shari
Description: Forged from the enchanted bones of a slain Grimhound. Its surface bears claw-shaped ridges that pulse with residual dark mana. A low, ghostly growl echoes in your ears when blocking a strong attack.
Stats:
+10 Physical Defense
+5 Magic Resistance
Passive Ability: Feral Guard – When HP drops below 50%, gain a 20% increase in block strength and slightly increased reaction speed for 5 seconds.
Trait: Unbreakable by mortal means
Unique Resonance: Mana Sync – When wielded, the shield gradually synchronizes with your mana, improving compatibility and unlocking hidden potential with continued use.
[Level Requirement: none]
[Status: Equipped]
[Note: The soul of the Grimhound lingers within. You may not be alone anymore.]
A tense stillness hung in the air. One by one, students emerged from their hiding spots like frightened cubs stepping out of their dens for the first time. Their eyes were hollow—exhausted from witnessing too much. There was no strength left in them to cheer for victories.
Shaarmila lay on the ground, trembling. No words escaped her parched lips; whatever nourishment she once had had been drained away by tears. A few students gathered around her, offering fragile, uncertain comfort.
"I-I can't believe it… This isn't real, right? It has to be an illusion—a prank!"
Her voice cracked with disbelief.
"I want to see Kane… I didn't even get to say sorry for all the times we fought. He—he just came back to me..."
"I'm sorry to break your expectations," Cydal said, his voice devoid of emotion. "But death here is no different than in the real world. The ones who've fallen… they're not coming back."
Shari turned to him, eyes narrowing. "You speak like you've been here before. What do you know about this place? How do we get out?"
"Your focus should be on surviving—nothing else matters until then," Cydal replied flatly.
Then, without a word, Longs pulled off his shirt, revealing his chiseled torso and the deep, still-bleeding gash across his chest—courtesy of the grimhound's earlier attack. The cold was relentless, creeping deeper with every breath, but he didn't hesitate. He knelt and gently draped his shirt over Shaarmila's shivering frame.
It wasn't much. But that's all she could get.
The wind howled—each gust sharper, colder than the last. Riding the air came a strange, beautiful hum, melodic yet eerie. Along with it, glowing creatures floated through the breeze, their movements fluid like music in motion.
They drifted above the students, shimmering and swirling, capturing every eye. Whispers began to echo faintly, directionless, like thoughts being spoken aloud.
The creatures were like something out of a dream—or a nightmare. Tiny and ghostlike, their glowing, slippery forms resembled jellyfish with translucent bodies that revealed a pulsing, alien anatomy within.
A student, dazed and spellbound, asked, "Wh-What are they…?"
A screen flickered to life beside them.
[Title: Wispod — Low-tier creature commonly found in dungeons.]
[Lack of bloodlust makes them ideal for farming. Each Wispod has a high chance of dropping healing items.]
As the student extended a trembling hand toward one of the floating creatures, Cydal's voice cut in sharply.
"I wouldn't touch it if I were you."
But the student ignored him, his face twisted with anger. He was done listening—done trusting the one he blamed for everything.
This is all his fault.
He brought us here. He let them die.
"I'm not listening to you anymore," he snapped.
His fingers brushed the Wispod before he could finish the sentence.
Instantly, the creature surged with light. A violent jolt erupted through his body, electricity crackling loud and merciless. His muscles seized, every ounce of energy drained from his form in an instant.
He collapsed.
Smoke rose from his blackened body, now still and scorched—burned to a husk, like a lump of coal.
A collective gasp choked the air. No one could move.
Only silence.
Only horror.
The students screamed, their cries echoing into the emptiness, swallowed by the cold grip of isolation.
And the Wispods… kept dancing so innocently, unaware of the danger they caused.
To be continued