Three players on the field meant that the game had reached its season finale.
There was no crowd cheering, no dramatic music, no grand announcement. The battlefield itself was the witness. A broken land filled with scars left by missiles, gunfire, and desperation. Craters stretched across the ground like open wounds. Boulders and shattered terrain rose unevenly, creating blind spots and narrow paths that favored hunters and punished the careless.
Reever moved slowly through it all.
Every step was measured. Every pause had purpose. His eyes scanned the terrain constantly, reading the battlefield like a map carved by violence. These craters were not just remnants of destruction. They were cover. They were traps. They were ambush points waiting for the right moment.
This was his kind of terrain.
Then a system notification echoed across the field, its sound cutting through the quiet like a blade.
[ System notification.All loot collected have been unlocked.Players can use the loot acquired during this last round.Have fun and survive. ]
The message vanished as quickly as it appeared, but its impact lingered heavily in the air.
Reever understood its meaning instantly.
This was the system loosening its grip. No more restrictions. No more holding back. Everything the players had collected was now available. Gadgets. Tools. Weapons. All of it could be used freely.
For the remaining three players, this was both a blessing and a curse.
Loot mattered now more than ever.
Even common grade gadgets could change the flow of a fight if used correctly. Smoke grenades could block vision. Shock traps could slow movement. Scanners could reveal positions. And if someone had been lucky enough to collect uncommon gear, the advantage could be overwhelming.
Elsewhere on the battlefield, a player clad in golden armor stopped behind a fractured ridge. His armor gleamed faintly even under the dull sky. He opened his piggy bag and began inspecting its contents carefully.
"With a UAV scanner, locating the other two should not be too hard," he muttered. "Smoke grenades, flash units, signal disruptors. Not bad."
His fingers brushed over the items with satisfaction.
"Looks like wealth decides the winner in the end."
Not far away, another player stood atop a cracked stone formation. His armor was void bluish black, absorbing light rather than reflecting it. He summoned a slender rapier into his hand, twirling it idly as if this were a duel rather than a battlefield.
"So it comes down to loot," he said calmly. "Figures."
He pointed his blade toward the distance and stepped forward, already moving with intent.
Back in the shadows of a crater, Reever lowered himself onto a small boulder and finally checked his own loot.
Unlike the others, he did not rush. He did not smile. His brows knit slightly as he reviewed his inventory.
"This is dangerous," he thought.
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.
"I am rank one. That makes me the obvious target. The system forbids partying, but it never said anything about shared enemies. If they are smart, they will come after me first."
The thought lingered.
"The enemy of your enemy is your friend. They could easily use that logic and take me down together, then settle things between themselves."
He exhaled slowly.
"That said, it also works in my favor. I do not need to chase them. They will come to me."
His lips curved into a faint smile.
"My bot status will make them underestimate me. They will lower their guard, even if only slightly. That alone is enough."
He flexed his fingers.
"At least the system did not turn me into a kill bot. That would have changed everything."
Reever straightened and began thinking through the tools available to him.
"Thermal detectors will not work on me," he reminded himself. "That gives me an edge."
His gaze flicked toward the open battlefield.
"But UAV scanners might still pick up my general direction. Not exact position, but enough to narrow things down."
He considered activating camouflage immediately.
"No," he decided. "Too early."
Instead, he reached into his piggy bag and summoned five compact drones. They hovered briefly before shooting off in different directions, their movements swift and silent.
Each drone transmitted visuals directly to a small screen that appeared across Reever's palm. Multiple feeds flickered to life as the drones spread across the battlefield.
Reever watched carefully.
Seconds passed.
Then a warning symbol flashed.
One of the screens turned grey.
"The drone in the east is down," he murmured. "So one of them is approaching from the east."
His expression remained calm.
Moments later, another warning appeared. Another screen went dark.
This time, Reever smiled.
"South as well. And the one in the south is closer."
His mind raced through possibilities.
"This could be a trap. Auto turrets can shoot drones down easily. Or it could be deliberate misdirection."
He did not assume safety.
"I need to stay cautious."
Without hesitation, he activated his camouflage.
The armor responded instantly. Light bent around his body. His form blurred, then vanished completely, leaving nothing behind but disturbed dust.
Camouflage was not a system granted skill. It was an ingrained skill, built directly from within the armor when the armor was made. It was a passive skill, with no cool down.
One of the best features of rare grade equipment.
Across the battlefield, the player in golden armor frowned as a human shaped outline vanished from his scanner.
"Damn it," he cursed. "He disappeared."
He adjusted his scanner again, frustration creeping into his voice.
"But he was seen in that direction. He could not have gone far."
He tightened his grip on his weapon and began moving forward more cautiously.
"I am only a few minutes away."
Elsewhere, the player with the rapier broke into a sprint, his movements sharp and confident.
"As expected of rank one," he said with a grin. "Hiding already."
He pointed his blade forward as he ran.
"I cannot wait to bring him down."
Unseen, unheard, Reever waited for them both from the shadows of his camouflage.