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We decided to head back to the hotel.234Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡOF1dR6FQoQ
The newcomers who had survived the Deathball game were still confused and frightened—they had no idea what this world truly was.234Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡaElnSNe908
As we walked, we explained everything: the games, the rules, the deaths, the endless fight for survival.
On our way, we spotted an old man and a young boy struggling near a half-collapsed building. When they saw us, they waved frantically, shouting for help.
We rushed to them.234Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡRsdSy4qdl4
Lying beside them was a man, motionless—a long knife stabbed deep into his stomach. Blood covered his shirt, the ground beneath him soaked crimson. Jenny tried to check his pulse, but it was too late.
He was gone.
There was something haunting in his eyes—like he had died chasing something important, something just beyond his reach.
The old man held the boy close, both of them trembling. “He was our protector,” the old man said, his voice breaking. “He saved us more times than I can count.”
We asked who the man was and what had happened.
The old man took a deep breath, his eyes filled with fear and sorrow.234Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡDB4MXtO80x
Then he said something that froze all of us.
“It was a game. But not like the others. This one… was called ‘The Extreme Level.’”
We exchanged stunned looks.
He continued, “He believed that if someone could win this game, they could go back—to the real world.”
My heart skipped a beat.
The old man explained that the dead man had been with them since the very beginning. He was strong, brave, and determined. He had discovered rumors about a hidden arena—one that changed its location every day. It was said that whoever won The Extreme Level would earn a ticket home.
To find that arena, a player first needed to win another game called ‘Strikeworld.’234Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡbGl8751qNZ
Winning Strikeworld granted a compass, the only tool capable of leading someone to the Extreme Level’s location.
A few hours ago, the man had entered the Strikeworld arena alone to win the compass.234Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡosbfGIsQRD
But he came back like this—stabbed, bleeding, and empty-handed.234Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡBtNybXux2n
He died before he could say a single word.
The boy cried silently beside his lifeless body, his small hands gripping the man’s torn shirt.234Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡVRMxzumkMM
The old man could barely hold back his tears.
None of us spoke. The wind was cold and heavy with silence.
Even though fear lingered in our hearts, a spark of hope flickered within us.
A game that could lead us home… a way out of this nightmare.
For the first time in a long while, it felt like there was a light—small but real—glowing in the darkness.
And that was enough for us to keep going.234Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡpA2QWr1u8C
Enough to fight again.234Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡw7lLy7baFf
Enough to believe that maybe, just maybe… we could finally return to the real world.
and then Add to home screen.