The snowball didn't start with a decision.
It started with someone copying what worked.
One poisoned feeding ground had gone well earlier. The Warhog slowed, reacted late, and died without taking anyone down with it. Clean. Efficient. Almost boring.
Someone nearby watched it happen and thought, I can do that too.
Then another person copied it.
Then someone else said, "What if we put it over there as well?"
By the time GACHAGAMI realized what was happening, people were already scattered along the mountain paths. Some were kneeling near feeding grounds, crushing plants. Others scraped minerals from stone, whispering like they were doing something they absolutely should not be doing.
"This feels illegal," someone muttered.
Another replied instantly, "Only if you get caught."
GACHAGAMI stared at the scene, eyes widening.
"That's not even what I did," he said weakly.
Someone glanced back at him. "Yeah, but yours walked so ours could run."
"I didn't mean—"
Too late.
The idea had escaped him.
What followed wasn't planning. It wasn't strategy. It was a meme spreading in real time.
People started sharing tips like they were in a comment section.
"Use the bitter leaves, not the fuzzy ones."
"Mix it thinner. It spreads better."
"Put it near the salt stone. They always lick that."
STRWH4T watched a Warhog wobble forward, steps uneven, head swaying slightly.
"Why is it moving like it's lagging?" he asked.
Unbroken answered without hesitation. "Because it is."
The kills began to stack.
Not explosively.
Not dramatically.
Just steadily.
They waited.
The Warhog slowed.
The team moved in.
Kill.
Repeat.
Someone checked the count and froze.
"Uh… guys?"
No one looked.
"We just passed one hundred."
People paused for half a second.
Then someone shrugged. "Okay, but that was kind of expected."
Ten minutes later—
"Two hundred."
This time, people actually looked.
"That's… fast."
Another check.
"Three hundred."
Silence followed.
Then nervous laughter.
"This is stupid," someone said, smiling despite himself. "This is actually stupid."
GACHAGAMI rubbed his face. "This is out of control."
Someone slapped his shoulder. "Bro, you invented a speedrun category."
When Lin Yuan finally checked the system, he wasn't expecting anything unusual.
He was thinking about fatigue. About rotation discipline. About whether they should stop early.
He glanced at the number.
Stopped walking.
Looked again.
Then a third time.
450 / 500
He stood there, expression blank, letting it sink in.
That doesn't make sense, was his first thought.
Not because of rules.
Because of reality.
He didn't shout.
He didn't call anyone over.
He just started walking toward the hunting grounds.
What he found looked less like a battlefield and more like a waiting room.
Warhogs stood sluggishly near feeding areas. Players waited at a distance, chatting while keeping an eye on them.
One of them waved casually.
"Sect Master," the guy called out, "you wanna wait for the poison to kick in, or should we go now?"
Lin Yuan stopped.
"…What?"
Everything came out at once after that.
People talked over each other.
"Plants—"
"Minerals—"
"It doesn't kill them—"
"It just makes them worse—"
GACHAGAMI raised his hand awkwardly. "I started it."
Lin Yuan looked at him for a long moment.
Then he looked back at the field.
At the sluggish beasts.
At the ridiculous number floating in the system interface.
Finally, he said, "You turned a hunting trial into food poisoning."
Silence fell.
Someone muttered, "When you say it like that, it sounds bad."
Lin Yuan sighed.
Not angry.
Just tired.
"Finish what you started," he said after a pause. "Slowly."
That was enough.
They pushed the number higher under his watch. No rushing. No celebrating. Just controlled, methodical cleanup.
When they finally stopped, the trial sat just short of completion.
Close enough to feel unreal.
People collapsed where they stood, laughing quietly, exhaustion washing over them all at once.
"We're never beating this," someone said.
Another replied, "Yeah. Peak performance achieved."
Lin Yuan looked at the number one last time and shook his head.
"Next time," he said dryly, "tell me before you reinvent warfare."
Laughter spread through the camp.
And for the first time all day, it felt light instead of tense.
Lin Yuan didn't sit down immediately.
While others laughed or collapsed where they stood, he remained upright, eyes moving slowly across the camp. The laughter sounded real—tired, relieved, a little unhinged—but it wasn't careless. These weren't people drunk on victory. They were people who had sprinted too far and were only now realizing how hard they were breathing.
He glanced at the mountain paths again.
Warhogs still stood in the distance, sluggish and confused, as if even they hadn't processed what kind of day this had turned into.
Preparation, Lin Yuan thought.
Not strength.
Not courage.
Preparation.
It was unsettling in a way brute force never was.
Back on Earth, this would have been common sense. You didn't charge blindly if you could stack the odds first. But here—on a mountain guarded by ancient rules and expectations—it felt almost disrespectful in its effectiveness.
And yet… it worked.
Someone nearby coughed and said, "I think my legs are vibrating."
Another answered, "That's just your soul leaving your body."
Lin Yuan ignored them and pulled up the system interface again. The number hadn't changed. Still sitting there. Still absurd.
He dismissed it and looked at the people instead.
GACHAGAMI sat apart from the others, elbows on his knees, staring at the ground. He wasn't laughing now. He wasn't smiling either. Just… thinking.
Lin Yuan made a note of that.
Nearby, STRWH4T was carefully rewrapping his arm, movements slower than usual. Unbroken stood a short distance away, arms crossed, eyes half-closed, conserving energy the way only experienced fighters did.
No one was posturing.
That mattered.
"Hey," someone suddenly called out. "So… uh… Sect Master?"
Lin Yuan looked over.
The guy scratched his head. "We didn't break anything, right?"
That earned a few weak laughs.
Lin Yuan considered the question seriously.
"No," he said after a moment. "You didn't."
Relief rippled through the group.
Then he added, "But you also shouldn't assume today is repeatable."
That quieted them again.
Not fear.
Just understanding.
Warbound nodded slowly, as if that confirmed something he had already suspected.
Lin Yuan finally sat down on a flat stone, exhaling as the fatigue caught up to him all at once. His body hadn't done much fighting today, but leadership had its own kind of weight.
This world really will let you do anything, he thought.
As long as you're ready to deal with what comes after.
Someone nearby yawned loudly. Another stretched and immediately regretted it.
Tomorrow, they would finish the trial.
But today?
Today was already enough.