Chapter 5 Test of Humanity (3) 

On the other side of the chaos, Tilus's friends fought against the tide of bodies trying to reach him. A few bystanders blocked their path, their expressions twisted with malice. "If he dies, we'll be free," someone sneered, a cruel smile spreading across their face.

Ben was the first to charge forward, his instincts kicking in. "Move, you bastard!" But as he lunged, he felt the surge of bodies pressing in, a suffocating barrier keeping them apart.

Violet didn't hesitate. Although she didn't know why Tilus had helped her, she was the type to repay her debts. She sprinted after Ben. The rest of their group—Leon, panic-stricken but compelled by Ben's courage, and Jasmine, still frozen in disbelief—were swept along by the momentum of their determination.

Ben's roar cut through the chaos like a war cry. His massive frame barreled forward, muscles rippling with the force of his momentum. "Out of my way!" he bellowed, swinging his fist at the nearest bystander. The punch connected with a sickening crunch, sending the man sprawling to the ground, clutching his jaw. Ben didn't stop, his eyes fixed on Tilus in the distance, though the surge of bodies between them was growing denser by the second.

Violet was close behind, moving like a shadow, her breath steady, her mind sharp. Her grandfather's lessons flooded her thoughts—every opponent has a weakness. She sidestepped a man who lunged at her, her footwork graceful and swift. In one fluid motion, she drove her elbow into his side, sending him staggering.

Violet's body moved like water—fluid, controlled, every strike precise. Her traditional Vietnamese martial arts training had forged her into a weapon, and in moments like these, it was her lifeline. A man lunged at her, but she was quicker, twisting like a reed in the wind. With a sharp exhale, she delivered a crushing blow to his solar plexus, the force making him double over in pain. But this wasn't sparring—there was no honor here, no structured fight.

Outnumbered but composed, she dodged a punch from one attacker and countered with a kick to the ribs, using surprise to gain the upper hand. Violet struck quickly, aiming for vulnerable spots like the nose and gut. However, as more attackers came at her, she began to fall back, taking a few hits and stumbling. But in a key moment, she channeled her rage, regaining her strength, and exploded with a flurry of punches and kicks, finishing the fight decisively.

The first man threw a punch, but Violet sidestepped it, grabbing his arm and twisting it. She delivered a sharp elbow to his face, causing him to stagger back.

A second attacker rushed her from the side, aiming a kick. Violet blocked with her forearm, then countered by sweeping his legs out from under him. As he hit the ground, she followed up with a brutal stomp to his chest, knocking the wind out of him.

A third attacker charged at her. Violet and the attacker traded a series of punches and kicks. He managed to land a punch to her cheek, causing her to stumble briefly. But she quickly recovered by ducking under his next strike, landing a powerful knee to his stomach, followed by a quick uppercut to the jaw that left him dazed.

Another attacker grabbed Violet by the hair, yanking her backward. She gritted her teeth through the pain, then grabbed his wrist to pry his hand free. With a sudden twist, she wrenched his arm and flipped him over her shoulder, sending him crashing to the floor. She finished with a kick to his ribs as he tried to get up, ensuring he was down for good.

Another man charged at her, but William intercepted him, and Leon backed him up. Violet turned to thank William, but she froze for a second. Before she could say anything, more people came at them.

The crowd was a living wall, closing in around them. As they pushed forward, a few others stood in their way, eyes glinting with malicious intent.

Meanwhile, Tilus struggled, fighting for his life against an opponent fueled by bloodlust. The man lunged, knife glinting in the chaotic light of the arena. "You're not even going to fight back?" he taunted, eyes gleaming. "You're pathetic. You can't run forever."

Seeing Tilus stumble reminded the man of his days as a gang member, when he'd created fear with his fists and knife. He remembered the sound of those who had begged for their lives as he toyed with them. He had beaten down many like this kid—frightened little prey who tried to oppose him. I'll show this kid who's in control.

Tilus stumbled back, breath ragged, eyes darting. He had to play the part of the helpless victim. As he fell, he felt for the small pepper spray bottle he'd stashed in his bag. Just a little closer...

The man's confidence swelled as he approached Tilus. "Blame your luck, kid," the man sneered, stepping forward. Tilus glanced up, feigning fear in his eyes. "Please... don't..." he croaked, adding a tremble to his voice that felt all too real.

"Too late for that," the man growled, raising his knife high above his head.

It was the moment Tilus had been waiting for. As the blade descended, he sprang into action. With a swift motion, he yanked the pepper spray from his bag, aiming it at the man's face. The spray hissed out, hitting him full force. The man screamed, staggering back, clutching his eyes, the knife clattering to the ground.

Tilus didn't hesitate. His muscles coiled like a spring, and with a sudden burst, he lunged forward. He drove a vicious kick into the man's groin with all the force he could muster. The impact was immediate—the man collapsed, gasping, curled into himself in agony.

Breathing heavily, Tilus stepped back, watching as the would-be killer writhed on the ground, surrounded by a stunned crowd. The atmosphere shifted; shock rippled through the onlookers.

Tilus seized the moment, locking the man in a chokehold, the knife pressed to his throat. "Don't try anything funny. Even if you're blind, you should know I can end you in an instant."

"Hah, do you even have what it takes to kill a human, kid?" the man spat, his bravado faltering in the face of his own fear.

Tilus didn't respond. He tightened his grip, the knife digging into the man's flesh just enough to draw a bead of blood. "Wanna bet?"

"Got it, got it!" the man stammered, his eyes wide with panic.

Tilus surveyed the crowd, his voice rising above the silence. "Anyone else wanna try?" he challenged, his gaze daring them.

The crowd shifted, uncertainty etched on their faces.

"If you've got any brains left, you'd better start finding the insects now, or you'll all die," Tilus warned. People began to scatter as the countdown ticked away—two minutes left.

"Hey kid, you're in control now, just let me go. If you want to kill me, do it already."

"Oh, you want to die? Since you can't see clearly, let me tell you what time it is now... one minute and thirty seconds left."

"Wait! Wait, please! I don't wanna die. I'll stop being a gangster, I'll eat vegetables, like a monk—please spare me. I promise!"

Those were the words Tilus hated the most. Please... I promise... The words echoed, like ghosts from his past. But instead of ending the man's life with a sweep of his hand, Tilus kicked him and opened his bag, searching for the ants he had snuck inside.

A red ant, as big as a finger joint. Tilus threw it at him.

The man crawled forward, smashing his hand down on the insect just as time ran out.

Verismon's voice crackled to life. "Interesting... I'll admit, Tilus, you're more resourceful than I gave you credit for. But don't get too comfortable. This… this is merely the beginning."

[Congratulations. You have survived the first Stage.]