Chapter 2: Blood and Betrayal

Lucas's pulse thundered in his ears as the blade pressed against his throat. The woman's cold eyes stared into his, daring him to resist. Behind her, the two men watched with amused smirks, as if this was just another round of entertainment in The Infinite Grind.

"Let's not do anything stupid," Lucas said, forcing his voice to stay steady. "You're stronger than me I get that. But killing a Level 1 player won't help you much, will it?"

The woman tilted her head, considering his words. For a moment, Lucas thought he might have talked his way out of it. Then she chuckled softly, a sound that sent chills down his spine.

"You're right," she said. "Killing you won't help me. But robbing you will."

Before Lucas could react, she shoved him backward. He stumbled, barely keeping his balance, as she yanked the Cracked Wooden Club out of his hands. One of the men stepped forward and rifled through his inventory menu, plucking out his remaining Healing Shard.

"Hey!" Lucas protested, but a swift punch to the gut doubled him over, knocking the wind out of him.

"Consider this a lesson, newbie," the woman said, twirling his club lazily. "In this world, it's eat or be eaten. If you want to survive, you'll have to get a lot stronger. But for now…" She leaned in close, her breath hot against his ear. "…you're nothing."

With that, she turned and walked back to the campfire, her lackeys following close behind. Lucas watched helplessly as they sat down, laughing and toasting each other with virtual bottles of ale. They didn't even consider him a threat.

Humiliation burned in his chest, but more than that, he felt rage. Pure, simmering rage. He had just been robbed, humiliated, and left for dead and they didn't even care. To them, he was nothing more than a stepping stone, just another weakling doomed to fail.

Not for long, he thought, gritting his teeth. I'll show them. I'll show all of them.

He glanced at the timer in the corner of his vision. 4:12… 4:11… The next wave of monsters would arrive in just over four minutes. If he didn't find a weapon or some kind of plan he was done for.

His eyes darted around the clearing, searching for anything that could give him an edge. That's when he noticed something a small, half-buried chest near the base of a twisted tree. It was old and rusted, barely visible beneath the layers of dirt and moss.

Could be a trap, he thought. But what choice do I have?

Keeping one eye on the campfire, Lucas crept toward the chest as quietly as he could. The other players were too busy drinking and laughing to notice him. When he reached the chest, he knelt down and pried it open with trembling hands.

Inside was a single item: a jagged, rusty dagger.

[Item Acquired: Rusted Dagger]

Attack: +3

Durability: 10/10

A worn, bloodstained dagger. Not much, but better than nothing.

Lucas's fingers closed around the hilt. It wasn't much, but it felt solid in his hand sharp, deadly. And right now, that was all he needed.

He glanced back at the campfire. The woman and her crew were still distracted, their backs turned toward him.

I could run, he thought. Get as far away from them as possible before the timer runs out.

But another thought bubbled to the surface, darker and more dangerous.

Or I could make them pay.

His heart pounded as he weighed his options. Running might keep him alive a little longer but it wouldn't change anything. He'd still be weak, still be a target. If he wanted to survive in The Infinite Grind, he had to stop running. He had to fight.

Taking a deep breath, Lucas tightened his grip on the dagger and stepped forward.

Lucas crept forward, his bare feet crunching softly on the dirt. Every instinct screamed at him to turn around, to run before things got worse, but he forced himself to stay calm. If he wanted to make it through this nightmare, he had to stop being afraid.

The woman's laughter echoed through the clearing as she leaned back against a log, still twirling the Cracked Wooden Club in her hand. Her two lackeys lounged nearby, deep in conversation, oblivious to the danger creeping up behind them.

One step at a time, Lucas told himself. Stay quiet. Stay focused.

He slipped through the shadows, closing the distance until he was just a few feet away. His hands tightened around the dagger's hilt, and for a moment, doubt crept in. Was he really about to do this? Was he ready to kill someone, even in a game?

Then he remembered the way they'd laughed at him. The way they'd stolen from him, humiliated him, and left him for dead.

His jaw clenched. This isn't a game anymore. It's survival.

Lucas lunged.

The dagger sliced through the air, aiming for the nearest target a burly, bearded man leaning against the log. He didn't even have time to scream. The blade sank deep into his side, and Lucas twisted it hard, feeling the resistance as it tore through virtual flesh.

[Critical Hit! – 45 HP]

The man's eyes widened in shock as his health bar plummeted. He tried to reach for his weapon, but Lucas didn't give him the chance. He yanked the dagger free and drove it into the man's chest, finishing him off.

[Player "Brask" has been eliminated.]

A burst of XP flooded Lucas's screen, but he barely registered it. The second man was already on his feet, drawing a massive two-handed axe.

"You little!"

Before he could finish, Lucas hurled the dagger straight at him. It wasn't a skill move just pure desperation but somehow, it hit its mark, embedding itself in the man's shoulder.

[Hit! – 15 HP]

The man roared in pain, stumbling backward. Lucas didn't wait for him to recover. He sprinted forward, yanking the dagger free and slashing wildly at his legs. Blood sprayed across the dirt as the man's health bar dropped lower and lower.

"Enough!" a voice snarled.

Lucas barely had time to react before the woman was on him, her dagger flashing toward his throat. He ducked just in time, feeling the blade skim past his ear. She was fast faster than him and every move she made was precise, calculated.

"You think you're tough now, huh?" she hissed, circling him like a predator. "You think one lucky kill makes you a badass?"

Lucas didn't answer. He was too busy trying to stay alive. Every time she struck, he barely managed to block or dodge, and every time, she forced him closer to the campfire.

"Newsflash, newbie," she sneered. "You're still nothing."

She lunged again, aiming for his chest, but this time, Lucas was ready. He sidestepped at the last second and kicked out hard, catching her in the stomach. She gasped, stumbling backward and tripped over the log behind her.

For a split second, she was off balance. That was all Lucas needed.

He charged forward, driving the dagger straight into her chest. Her eyes widened in shock as her health bar dropped to zero.

[Player "Sera" has been eliminated.]

She collapsed to the ground, disintegrating into pixels before she could say another word.

Lucas stood there, breathing hard, as the last man scrambled to his feet and bolted into the forest, disappearing into the fog. Lucas didn't bother chasing him. He'd won.

Barely.

A new notification popped up in his vision:

[Congratulations! You have leveled up to Level 2.]

Skill Points Available: 1

New Title Unlocked: [Survivor] – Increases Endurance by +5.

Lucas stared at the screen, his mind racing. He'd done it. He'd killed them and it wasn't just luck. He'd outsmarted them, outplayed them.

But as he looked down at the bloodstained dagger in his hand, a strange, hollow feeling settled in his chest.

He'd survived… but at what cost?

The timer in the corner of his vision ticked down to zero. Somewhere in the distance, a monstrous roar shattered the silence.