Survival 1

Ye Feng stood in the heart of the dense forest, surrounded by towering trees that cast long shadows beneath the pale moonlight. The silence was eerie, broken only by the occasional rustling of leaves and distant cries of nocturnal creatures. He surveyed his surroundings cautiously, his sharp eyes scanning for any movement.

Taking a deep breath, he pulled out his digital map, the dim glow illuminating his face. A red dot marked his current location, while the rest of the terrain stretched across an 80-square-kilometer radius.

"Enough space for everyone to hide and hunt without interference," he mused, his fingers tracing the map. "But that also means more opportunities to get ambushed."

With that thought, he moved forward, navigating through the dense foliage until he spotted a large tree with thick branches. Wasting no time, he climbed it effortlessly, finding a stable spot to rest. As he lay back against the bark, he smirked.

"I'll start hunting tomorrow," he murmured before closing his eyes, letting sleep claim him.

The next morning, he awoke with the first light of dawn. The forest was alive with the chirping of birds and the rustling of unseen creatures. His stomach growled, reminding him of his need for sustenance. As he moved through the forest, he found some wild fruits, plucking them swiftly and consuming them on the go.

By evening, as he was scouting the area, he noticed movement ahead. His eyes narrowed as he crept closer, keeping his steps light. Through the gaps in the foliage, he spotted a boy crouched near a small fire, grilling a wild animal. The scent of roasted meat wafted through the air, making Ye Feng's stomach tighten in hunger. The boy, however, was cautious, his eyes scanning the surroundings warily as if expecting an attack at any moment.

Ye Feng watched patiently, his grip tightening around his knife. He waited until the meat was perfectly cooked, and just as the boy reached out for his first bite, Ye Feng moved. Silently, he darted from tree to tree, closing the distance like a shadow.

The moment the boy lifted the food to his mouth, Ye Feng struck.

His knife flashed as he lunged, aiming straight for the boy's throat. The boy, however, reacted instantly, spinning around and attempting to block with his own blade. But he was too slow. Ye Feng's knife sliced cleanly across his neck, a thin red line appearing before blood began to pour out.

The boy's eyes widened in shock. His knife slipped from his trembling hands as he fell to his knees, gasping soundlessly. Then, with a final thud, his body collapsed, lifeless.

Ye Feng stared at the corpse with indifferent eyes. He felt nothing—no guilt, no remorse.

"First kill," he murmured, wiping the blood off his knife onto the boy's clothes. He rummaged through the dead boy's belongings but found only another knife, which he pocketed before cutting the fabric of the boy's clothes to craft a rope.

"A rope is essential in the forest," he muttered as he worked, twisting and knotting the fabric until he had a sturdy makeshift rope about twenty feet long. Satisfied, he tied it around his waist before turning his attention to the grilled meat.

He took a piece and bit into it, savoring the taste.

"Not bad," he mused, chewing thoughtfully. "His cooking skills were good. Maybe I should learn to cook properly, or find someone to do it for me. But then again..." he paused, smirking, "there's always the risk of poisoning."

Shaking his head, he continued eating, then climbed a tree nearby and settled in for the night.

The following day was uneventful. He wandered the forest, mapped out key locations, and rested. But on the third day, something interesting happened.

Up ahead, two boys were engaged in a fierce battle. Blood dripped from their wounds, their breath ragged, their bodies swaying from exhaustion. One had dark skin, the other pale, both around thirteen or fourteen years old.

"We should retreat and heal," the dark-skinned boy growled, glaring at his opponent.

The pale-skinned boy hesitated before responding, "Fine. We'll part ways. But if I see you again, I'll kill you."

"I was about to say the same thing," the other replied.

They began backing away from each other, cautious not to turn their backs. But that was their mistake.

Ye Feng, perched silently on a tree branch behind the pale-skinned boy, seized the opportunity. The moment the boy stepped under him, Ye Feng dropped down, his knife aimed at the boy's shoulder. The blade sank in effortlessly, and before the boy could even scream, Ye Feng slashed across his throat, ending his life instantly.

The dark-skinned boy froze, his eyes widening in shock. It took him three precious seconds to process what had happened—three seconds too long. By then, Ye Feng was already halfway to him.

Realizing he had no chance to run, the boy braced himself, tightening his grip on his knife. When Ye Feng was close enough, the boy lashed out, aiming for his neck. But Ye Feng was faster. He dodged, bending his body low and shifting sideways. The attack missed, and in the same motion, Ye Feng drove his knife into the boy's armpit, rendering his arm useless.

Before the boy could react, Ye Feng twisted behind him, pressing his blade against his throat.

"An assassin moves in the shadows. Don't try to fight like a warrior when you're not one," he whispered coldly before slitting the boy's throat.

The boy's lips parted, as if to speak, but no words came. His body crumpled to the ground.

If he had the chance to explain, he would have said that the pale-skinned boy was the one who attacked first—that he was merely defending himself. But in a fight for survival, justifications were meaningless. If he had let his guard down even for a second, he would've been the one on the ground.

Ye Feng looked at the two corpses, then exhaled. "The work here is done. Now I just need to survive until the end."

A thought crossed his mind. "Or... I could speed things up. If I eliminate more competitors, the competition will end sooner."

With that decision, he moved deeper into the forest.

Over the next two days, he hunted mercilessly. He killed six more boys and one girl—one while they were relieving themselves, another while sleeping, one chasing food, one walking unsuspectingly, and another who tried to ambush him but failed. One he fought head-on, defeating him in three swift moves. The last, a girl attempting to climb a tree, met her end when she reached the top—where Ye Feng was waiting.

With these kills, his count rose to ten. He was confident now—there was no one in this forest he couldn't handle.

Then, his digital map beeped three times. A message appeared: "300 participants remaining."

A warning. A clear message to the passive ones—kill or be killed.

Ye Feng ignored it. He had no reason to be concerned. Checking his inventory, he counted six knives—two strapped to his legs, two in his hands, and two at his waist.

As night fell, he found another sturdy tree, climbed up, and settled in.

"Tomorrow," he thought, staring into the dark canopy, "I'll decide my next move."