A heavy silence fell over the clearing. Aaron's cold logic seemed unassailable, but the idea of submitting to his conditions unsettled everyone. Roy took a breath, trying to stay calm despite his uncertainty.
— "Let us talk it over. We'll get back to you with an answer."
Aaron slowly nodded, then stepped back a few paces. He spun his spear in his right hand, as if nervously occupying his arm, before adding:
— "I'll be waiting at the edge of the forest. Don't take too long."
And with no further words, he walked toward the forest's edge, disappearing almost instantly into the dense vegetation. Roy, Anne, David, and Julie exchanged glances heavy with consequence. David, though usually quick to object, found nothing biting to say. Julie, eyes wet, turned her head toward Roy:
— "What do we do…?"
Roy rubbed the back of his neck, his tense expression betraying the weight of the dilemma. Anne gently placed a hand on the young girl's shoulder, while David, arms crossed, stared at the altar as if hoping to read an obvious answer from it. Finally, Roy broke the silence:
— "First, I'd like to check something that's been bothering me since we met him. Do any of you have an idea where he got his spear?"
The others looked at him, confused, not seeing what the old man was getting at.
— "What I mean is, we all arrived here with none of our personal belongings. Even our clothes were the same. In that case, the only explanation would be that he bought it here—from this very altar."
A short silence followed Roy's words, as the hypothesis began to sink in. Anne furrowed her brow; she hadn't thought of that, but now that Roy mentioned it, it was true none of them had brought anything from their old world. David, intrigued, approached the altar, eyeing the smooth surface with a mix of suspicion and curiosity.
— "So you think he got his spear here… by 'paying' with those points?" asked Anne, glancing uneasily at the stone.
— "Sounds plausible," Roy confirmed in a low voice. "He said himself this altar lets you get weapons, water, food… everything you need to survive."
Roy stepped closer to the altar again:
— "If that's the case, then…"
He placed his hand on the altar and immediately typed into the search bar:"…Found it."
— "Steel Spear: 1200 points."
Roy whispered the words, as if afraid to break the surrounding silence:
— "Steel spear: 1200 points…"
That single piece of information echoed through everyone's minds. David narrowed his eyes, and Anne leaned in, glancing cautiously at the altar's surface as if she too hoped to see confirmation.
— "That's way more than our starting 100 points," Anne murmured.
— "Which means Aaron found a way to earn those points," David added, his brow furrowing with growing concern.
Roy slowly backed away from the altar, catching his breath. The truth was more alarming than he had imagined: to afford a weapon worth 1200 points, Aaron must've accumulated at least that much. There was no telling how many battles, dangers, or feats that entailed in this world.
Julie, who had been silent until now, finally spoke up hesitantly:
— "But… how did he do it? He would've had to… kill monsters, right? Or maybe there are other ways to earn points?"
A wave of anxiety passed through the group. The forest, the silence, the monsters, the countdown… each new discovery only deepened the sense that they were trapped in a cruel game—one Aaron seemed to understand, but they barely grasped.
— "It explains why he seems so… formidable," Anne whispered, reconsidering the image of Aaron wielding his spear. "He must've fought a lot. Or found a way to rack up points."
David shook his head, his voice rising in frustration:
— "It's insane. This is a nightmare. We're not even sure we can survive a few days, and he already has enough for a weapon worth 1200 points? He's either insane, or extremely dangerous. Or both."
Roy drew a deep breath to compose himself. Yelling or panicking wouldn't help them. And besides, Aaron had made them an offer—unsettling, yes—but one that could buy them time under his protection and a chance to learn.
— "Well, I guess now we understand the difference between him and us," Roy finally said, his voice steadier than he expected. "He knows how to work this world… how to stockpile points. And he wants to use ours."
Anne nodded, though her expression remained clouded:
— "So that means he's not done learning either. He wants our points to make other purchases. That must be it…"
A brief silence fell, filled with unspoken agreement. They now understood why Aaron insisted they follow his orders in how to spend their points: he wanted to acquire, test, or experiment with more items.
— "In any case," Roy said evenly, "we don't have much of a choice. We need to survive—and for that, we need what he already knows."
David turned again toward the altar, striking its side lightly with his palm, as if to make his point:
— "Alright. Let's do it. If we're going to benefit from his offer—for him to protect us and provide for us these next three days—we'll have to spend our points his way."
Anne sighed, the weight already settling on her shoulders. She exchanged a quick glance with Roy, who nodded. Julie, despite her fear, looked determined. David offered no further protest, though doubt still marked his features.
— "Let's go back to Aaron, then," Roy concluded. "And we'll agree to spend our points as he commands."
They began walking toward the forest's edge, where they knew Aaron was waiting for their answer. Each of them carried the same mix of fear and curiosity: if a basic spear already cost 1200 points… what else could this world offer? How many points had Aaron already collected? And what was the true extent of the altar's power?
— "One step at a time," Anne murmured, trying to comfort Julie, who had started trembling again. "One step at a time…"
— "One step at a time," Roy echoed, his tone meant to reassure.
In truth, the step they were about to take was massive: handing over their only resources to a stranger—an amputated but terrifyingly capable survivor—in the hope of learning enough to stay alive for more than just three days.
But at this point, it was that or venture into the unknown alone.
Aaron, on his side, was waiting patiently at the edge of the forest. Leaning against a tree trunk, he watched the surroundings with a distant air. His expression was set in cold determination, but inside, the voice that had guided him during thirty days of isolation returned:
"Stay calm. They'll come back. They have no other choice."
The one-armed survivor glanced at his spear, gripped tightly in his only hand. How many monsters had he fought to earn the luxury of buying it? Even he didn't like recalling every bloody detail, every moment where death had come too close. But having that weapon—and still being alive—was proof he'd learned how to play by this world's brutal rules.
His eyes narrowed when he spotted, in the distance, the silhouette of Roy, followed closely by Anne, David, and Julie. They were coming back, moving with purpose. Aaron stood upright. He let them approach, gripping his spear tightly.
When they were just a few steps away, Roy stopped and greeted Aaron with a slight nod. The group formed a semicircle. Anne kept a hand on Julie's shoulder to reassure her, while David still held his makeshift weapon within reach. No one spoke at first. Only the sound of breathing broke the silence.
Finally, it was Roy who spoke, his voice calm but laced with tension:
— "We've thought it over… Your offer—for three days of food, water, and safety in exchange for our points… We accept."
David flinched slightly, as if only half-convinced, but he didn't protest. Anne squeezed Julie's shoulders to encourage her.
Aaron nodded slowly, as if he had already expected this answer. His eyes moved over each of their faces, measuring their resolve.
— "Good. Here's the deal: you spend the next three days under my protection. During that time, you will use your points exactly as I instruct. No more, no less. After three days, we part ways. You'll do whatever you want."
Roy took a deep breath:
— "That sounds fair. At least… fair enough, given the circumstances."
Aaron gave his spear a small turn and glanced toward the altar still standing in the clearing.
— "Then let's start by spending your points. Step forward."
He walked back toward the altar and stopped in the center of the clearing, right next to it.
— "But before that, we're doing a physical test. I want each of you to sprint, one at a time, from here to the edge of the clearing. As fast as you can."
Roy, Anne, David, and Julie exchanged puzzled looks. Aaron's command, so sudden and unexplained, stirred a ripple of unease. But the amputee didn't seem willing to elaborate. His calm, resolute demeanor challenged them to obey.
— "A race…?" Anne murmured uncertainly. "But… why?"
Aaron didn't respond. He simply looked at Roy, then at David, his gaze leaving no room for argument. He expected them to follow orders without question.
David, usually quick to react, bit his lip. He looked to Roy for silent support. After a brief hesitation, Roy took a deep breath and nodded to the group:
— "Let's just do what he says. We agreed to his conditions—we might as well go all the way."
Aaron barely nodded, as if that decision had been the only one possible. Without further delay, he stepped back and raised his spear to his shoulder, signaling that he would obviously not be participating. His eyes quickly scanned each of them, evaluating their nervousness.
David stepped forward, determined, though he didn't understand the purpose of this "test." Roy joined him, frowning. They waited for the signal.
Julie, still unsure, eventually joined them and awkwardly lined up. Her heart pounded. She didn't know if her body could handle a sprint, especially after the last few emotional days. Anne, feeling responsible, stepped beside her to offer support.
Aaron observed them silently for a moment. In his mind, the cold and methodical voice reminded him why he needed this: he wanted to assess their endurance and raw speed. He wanted to understand how increasing stats affected physical performance.
"Let's start with David. Don't hold back—run at full speed. 3… 2… 1… GO!"
Aaron's voice cracked like a whip. Instantly, David sprinted forward. His legs, despite the fatigue and stress, found a surge of unexpected energy. He pumped his arms hard, determined to keep a fast, steady pace. Each step barely touched the ground, gliding over the strangely clean grass.
David's breathing quickly intensified, but he refused to slow down. Behind him, Anne, Roy, and Julie watched closely, aware that this simple race might hold more significance than it seemed. Anne, always worried, kept her eyes locked on David, hoping he wouldn't get hurt or push too far.
Aaron, motionless with his spear on his shoulder, watched every movement. His gaze was sharp, analytical, counting the seconds with chilling precision.
David covered the 50 meters in 6.5 seconds. He stopped abruptly, bending over to catch his breath, his chest burning. The distance wasn't long, but the sheer effort, added to recent emotional strain, left him in near-total exhaustion.
A few moments later, he straightened up, sweat dripping down his temples, and returned to the group. He met Aaron's gaze, wondering if he'd get even a word of acknowledgment. But the one-armed man gave only a slight nod, his expression unreadable.
— "Next. Old man, it's your turn."
Roy swallowed hard, aware that all eyes were now on him. "Old man"—Aaron's wording was blunt, leaving no room for sensitivity. If Roy wanted to survive, he would have to prove himself, just like the others.
He stepped forward, doing his best to control the trembling in his legs, already weary from the earlier march through thick vegetation. His back and joints protested, but he didn't let it show. Behind him, Anne, David, and Julie stood in line, watching him with silent concern. They all knew Roy was no longer in his prime and feared he might hurt himself—or worse, collapse under the strain.
Aaron, still resting his spear on his shoulder, waited for Roy to get into position. His right arm dropped slightly, giving a silent countdown. Roy held his breath, adrenaline rising, ready to launch himself at the signal.
— "3… 2… 1… GO!"
At the crack of Aaron's voice, Roy pushed himself forward, muscles tight, trying to give it everything he had. His strides were shorter and less powerful than David's, but desperation gave him strength. Each step thundered in his chest, and he had to fight the pain already flaring in his calves and lower back.
He tried to recall the proper running techniques he had read about in another life—steady breathing, relaxed shoulders—but panic and effort erased them all. Midway, his lungs caught fire, refusing to keep up. His whole body screamed for him to stop.
But when he saw the edge of the clearing approaching, Roy forced himself to accelerate. He ignored the stabbing pain in his joints and pushed through the final stretch, nearly stumbling across the "line."
He came to a halt, doubled over, gasping desperately for air. His heart pounded violently, each beat hammering in his temples. The seconds that followed were a blur of sweat and dizziness, but he stayed upright, eventually straightening up to head back to the group.
From afar, he could see Aaron watching him with no visible emotion, while David, Anne, and Julie looked on with concern and compassion. Roy finally reached them, his face flushed with effort, clothes damp with sweat.
— "I… I'm fine…" he managed to say as he straightened, though his voice still trembled.
Aaron gave a slight nod, silently counting the time it had taken Roy. He also took note of how slowly he recovered from the effort, his muscles already nearing their limit.
— "Next."
One by one, the others completed their runs, and by the time they were all done, each of them was out of breath, faces flushed from the strain and mental tension. David wiped his forehead silently, Roy massaged his aching lower back, and Julie, still struggling to breathe steadily, leaned on Anne for support.
Aaron had remained impassive through the whole process. His cold, analytical gaze now scanned the group, evaluating their every movement. His spear still rested against his shoulder when he finally broke the silence:
— "Alright. Now, I want each of you to place your hand on the altar… and invest your 100 points in BODY."
The tone of his voice left no room for argument. Roy tensed up, frowning. All their points into BODY? David exchanged a nervous glance with Anne, and Julie blinked in surprise. They already knew the altar allowed them to buy weapons, food, or water—and that it could also enhance two mysterious stats: BODY and MIND. But to invest all their points right away into just one of them…
— "Wait…" David dared to protest. "You want us to spend all our points on BODY? But then we won't be able to buy anything else…"
Aaron didn't respond immediately. He turned his head to look at David, as if the question didn't even deserve consideration. Then his voice fell, calm and uncompromising:
— "Correct."
The group hesitated. Anne and Roy exchanged a glance, searching for some unspoken solution. Roy's muscles still trembled with fatigue, but he forced himself to speak in a measured tone:
— "Is that really necessary? We need food and water, you said so yourself…"
— "And I promised I'd provide them," Aaron replied calmly. "There's no need for you to spend your points on that."
The group understood then. Aaron's offer was clear: since he would be supplying what they needed to survive for three days, the price was using their points exactly how he wanted. And what he wanted, evidently, was to increase their BODY stat.
Roy took a breath to steady himself and turned toward the altar.
— "Very well. Let's do it."
David, jaw clenched, was the first to comply. He placed his hand against the altar's cold surface, and the now-familiar sensation of mental connection returned. He navigated to the appropriate section, and when he confirmed the allocation of his 100 points into BODY, a wave of warmth surged through him—brief, almost subtle, but enough to make him shiver.
— "Damn…" he murmured, pulling his hand back. "That's… something."
Anne stepped forward next, trying to hide her unease. Same process: hand, confirmation, surge of warmth. She closed her eyes briefly as it passed through her, then carefully stepped back.
Julie, still hesitant, looked to Roy pleadingly. He nodded, gently motioning for her to go ahead. The girl extended her trembling palm toward the altar, and moments later, she felt the same strange sensation—a flutter of heat, a brief dizzy spell, like her heart skipped a beat. Finally, Roy approached the altar and did the same.
When they had all finished, they stood together facing Aaron, slightly lightheaded. None of them felt any dramatic change, but there was a definite spark of energy, a warmth lingering in their muscles. David opened and closed his hands, puzzled, while Roy rolled his shoulders, unsure whether he was imagining the difference or not.
Aaron, still holding his spear tightly, watched their reactions with interest. He nodded, almost satisfied.
— "Good. You've all invested your 100 points into BODY. It's done. Now, you're going to run again. Just like before."
The order landed like a hammer blow. Roy, still catching his breath from the first sprint, opened his mouth to protest, but Aaron's stern expression silenced him. Anne looked at David in disbelief, while Julie, dry-mouthed, seemed close to tears. But there was no room for negotiation.
— "You're up first, David," Aaron said firmly. "Same as before. Give it everything."
David swallowed hard. Still, he stepped up without a word, knowing refusal might put the entire group at risk.
— "On my signal," Aaron continued, raising his arm slightly.
Heart pounding, David braced himself. Anne, Roy, and Julie stepped aside to give him room, anxiety plain on their faces. Each of them was wondering the same thing: would something happen? Would the increased BODY stat help in any noticeable way?
— "3… 2… 1… GO!"
David dashed forward again. The first steps were hesitant, as if his body, worn out, still resisted. But strangely, energy surged back. His legs pushed harder, his lungs kept up better. He was back.
Aaron followed his stride with focused eyes and noted the time: 6 seconds. Then he nodded.
— "Good. Next."
When the last of them had finished their sprint, the group gathered once again in front of Aaron, catching their breath, faces flushed with effort and lingering tension. David wiped his forehead in silence, Roy leaned on his aching back, and Julie—her chest still tight—let Anne support her gently.
Aaron, for his part, had remained completely still throughout the entire exercise. His cold, analytical gaze now swept across the group, as if he were still processing every minor reaction. With his spear resting against his shoulder, he finally broke the silence:
— "Good. Now, I want you to place your hands on the altar again... and put your 100 points into BODY."
(Already done. You might have meant another instruction here, but in the context of the previous scene, let's continue with Aaron's internal reaction.)
The command echoed in Aaron's mind, not from his mouth, but from within. He wasn't speaking out loud now. He was lost in thought—deep thought. He was speaking with the voice inside him.
"Strange… the results aren't consistent across all of them. The changes are... uneven."
"Indeed. It seems the effectiveness varies from one person to the next. David gained almost as much as I did. Unlike Roy, Anne, or Julie. There's no perfect correlation."
"How can we explain that?"
"Several hypotheses: age, base physical condition, emotional state, or mental focus."
"In most cases, the simplest answer is the correct one."
"Then if we look at it clearly—David showed the most improvement, followed by Julie, then Anne, and finally Roy."
"Then the conclusion is obvious. The difference comes from their base physical condition."
That realization froze Aaron in place. He stared off into nothing, trying to piece together the implications.
"…So that's what this is."
His gaze drifted far beyond the visible, as if he were looking through the forest, past the trees and the earth, into the very system that governed them.
"This system doesn't give power. It amplifies it."
"It doesn't balance the playing field. It widens the gap."
A quiet pressure bloomed in his chest.
He recalled the moment when he had first invested his own points—that surge of strength, the way his body had instantly obeyed every command, sharp and precise, like a perfectly tuned instrument.
But now… he understood why. His body had already been in shape—hardened by years of sports and regular training. The points hadn't changed him. They had revealed what was already there.
He glanced over at Roy, hunched, gasping, his hands trembling.Anne and Julie, though motivated, were already close to their limits.David, meanwhile, was still breathing steadily. His eyes were alert. Muscles defined.
A cold shiver ran down Aaron's spine.
"So even this system… isn't fair."
"It doesn't give everyone a chance. It rewards those already prepared."
He straightened slowly, jaw clenched.
This wasn't a tool for survival. It was a filter. A funnel. A centrifuge. It didn't create heroes… it selected survivors.
He stood in silence for a moment, arms crossed, watching the group before him. They were waiting. Trusting. Exhausted. Unaware.
This world was worse than the old one.
His right hand gripped the spear more tightly as a flicker of cold anger crossed his features.
— "Aaron...? Are you okay?" Roy asked softly.
The sound of Roy's voice pulled Aaron from his thoughts. He looked across the tired faces before him.
And Roy felt a chill run down his spine when their eyes met—because something had changed.
Before, Aaron looked at them as if they were potential threats, as if he expected betrayal or danger at any moment. But now… now it was different.
Now he was looking at them like they were already dead.Shadows of people, bound to disappear sooner or later in this ruthless world.
The old man hesitated, caught off-guard by the shift. Should he ask again what was going through their guide's mind? Or would that just provoke a reaction he'd regret? In the end, he simply took a deep breath and watched Aaron with quiet caution.
Anne, standing beside Julie, had noticed it too—that flicker of detachment. She had been trying to find signs of humanity in the amputated survivor, but suddenly it felt like he had stopped seeing them as people at all. As if, in his mind, they were now just numbers—variables in an equation he was solving without emotion.
Roy exchanged a glance with Anne, both silently seeking confirmation that they weren't imagining it.
David and Julie, however, seemed completely unaware of the change.
— "Aaron…?" Roy repeated, this time more firmly, trying to bring him back to reality.
Aaron's focus shifted to him at last, abandoning the distant contemplation of the group. A tense silence settled. Then Aaron straightened slightly, spear in hand.
— "We need to keep moving," he said, his voice almost hollow.
No one dared to object. Julie, who had just recovered from her sprint, thought about saying something to lighten the mood, but changed her mind the moment she saw Aaron's closed-off expression. Instead, she exchanged a quick look with Anne, then lowered her eyes.
Roy, his back aching, couldn't stop thinking about what he had seen in Aaron's eyes—something morbid. A kind of bitter resignation. Like a doctor delivering a terminal diagnosis… or an executioner waiting for the sentence to be carried out.
Was he really looking at us like corpses on borrowed time?
The question swirled through Roy's mind.
Finally, Aaron turned his back to the group and began walking slowly toward the forest's edge, as if he could no longer bear to look at those he now viewed as already doomed. Once again, he signaled for them to follow, without saying another word.
"Every choice we make is a trade-off between risk and reward. Everything. Absolutely everything."