Morning had arrived quietly.
No alarms.
No announcements.
Just light.
A pale, sterile beam sliding through the curtains and resting across Ren's face.
For a few seconds, he didn't remember where he was.
Then the ceiling came into focus.
The hotel room.
Room 72.
The black token on the nightstand.
The memory followed.
Blood.
The table.
Pow. Pow.
Ren inhaled slowly.
His chest felt lighter than it had the night before, but not because he was calm.
Because his mind had compartmentalized it.
He stood up.
Walked to the sink.
Washed his face.
The water felt colder than it should have.
He looked at himself in the mirror.
Clean.
No trace of what had happened.
As if it had been a dream.
Knock. Knock.
Ren froze.
The knock was soft.
Polite.
Measured.
He walked to the door and opened it.
A man in a perfectly tailored black suit stood outside.
White gloves.
Neutral expression.
A small wheeled table stood beside him, covered with a silver lid.
"Good morning," the man said calmly.
Ren stepped aside without speaking.
The butler entered silently, positioned the table near the window, removed the lid—
And the scent hit.
Rich.
Warm.
Buttery.
Sweet.
Savory.
Ren's eyes widened instantly.
"Oh my god…"
The butler bowed slightly and exited the room without another word.
The door closed.
Ren stared at the table.
Perfectly arranged plates.
Eggs.
Fresh bread.
Fruit.
Meat.
Juice.
Coffee.
Steam rising gently.
"Bro…" Ren whispered.
"Brooooo…"
His composed exterior collapsed instantly.
"LOOK AT THIS."
He rushed toward the table like a child discovering treasure.
"It smells amazing. Oh my god."
He didn't hesitate.
He sat down and started eating immediately.
No restraint.
No elegance.
"This is insane," he mumbled with a full mouth. "What is this place?"
He laughed softly to himself.
For a moment, the tension disappeared.
For a moment, he was just a teenager eating expensive food.
After a few minutes, he leaned back slightly, satisfied, watching the television mounted on the wall.
The screen flickered to life automatically.
A commercial.
Bright colors.
Music.
Gambling platforms.
Poker tournaments.
Luxury.
Fame.
Money.
Then—
For less than a second—
In the bottom corner of the screen:
"How much is a life worth?"
Ren's fork froze mid-air.
The commercial continued as if nothing had happened.
But Ren's eyes narrowed.
"I've seen that before."
He was certain.
The phrase lingered in his mind.
"I've seen it somewhere."
He tried to remember.
The corridor?
The earlier rounds?
No.
Earlier than that.
His thoughts were interrupted.
The screen glitched.
The colors vanished.
The room darkened slightly as the robotic voice returned.
"Participant – Ren Takahashi. Status: Qualified. Ticket: White to Black."
Ren straightened instantly.
"That's me."
The screen displayed his profile.
Name.
Age.
Origin.
Status.
Elimination history.
Performance data.
Ren stared at it in fascination.
"That's literally me."
The display shifted.
"System New Analysis – Performance Ranking."
Ren swallowed.
"Wait… ranking?"
The screen refreshed.
Ren Takahashi Previous Rank – F Current Rank – E+
He blinked.
"E+?"
His excitement faltered.
"That's… a promotion. But only E+?"
He leaned closer.
"What the hell does that even mean?"
His mind raced.
"If I'm E+, what were the others?"
He looked at the screen.
"Hey, robot," Ren said aloud. "Show me the rankings from my previous table."
A pause.
Then the robotic voice responded.
"My name is Uwu. I am your guide."
Ren's eyes widened.
"No way."
He leaned back, grinning.
"It talks."
"Guide?"
"This is insane."
"Okay, Uwu. Show me the previous table rankings."
The screen updated immediately.
Haruto – F+Yamamoto – F+
Ren nodded.
"Yeah. Makes sense."
Then he scrolled further.
Hiroki.
Rank – E
Ren froze.
"E?"
"Just E?"
"That's it?"
His mind rejected it.
"No way."
"He was stronger than that."
Then something else caught his attention.
In the corner of Hiroki's profile:
Status – Dead
Ren's breath caught.
For a second, the room darkened in his vision.
He saw it again.
The bodies.
The blood.
The revolver.
His own face stained.
He swallowed hard.
Uwu's voice resumed calmly.
"Table Assignment – Table 17."
The screen shifted.
Ren Takahashi – Rank E+
"That's my table?"
He leaned forward again.
"Okay… let's see."
Uwu continued.
"Out of 224 white ticket participants, 56 advanced and received black tickets. The tournament now continues with 256 players. Tables will consist of 8 players. Four will advance from each table."
Ren's skin prickled.
"This is serious," he whispered.
"256…"
"Eight per table…"
"Four survive…"
He exhaled slowly.
"The money must be insane."
He thought of hospital bills.
Of treatment.
Of debt.
But then—
Another thought surfaced.
"I want to beat them."
He frowned.
"Why do I want that so badly?"
The screen began displaying the names of his new table.
Table 17.
Mika Fujisawa
Gender – Woman
Rank – E+
"No picture?"
Ren frowned.
"Why no photos?"
"Likely because you haven't encountered them yet," Uwu replied.
Ren blinked.
"That makes sense."
He relaxed slightly.
"E+ too. Okay. Same level."
Next:
Keshin Oda
Rank – E+
Note – Math
"Math?"
Ren squinted.
"What does that mean?"
"Why does he get a note?"
"Where's my note?"
He crossed his arms.
"What would mine be?"
He smirked.
"The High Schooler."
Uwu responded instantly.
"That is not recommended."
"SHUT UP, UWU," Ren snapped dramatically.
He slumped into the chair, mock offended.
"Everyone else gets cool stuff."
Next.
Shura Daigo
Rank – D
Ren's eyes widened.
"D?"
"That's higher."
"He's technically the strongest here so far."
His pulse quickened slightly.
Next.
Aiko Tanaka
Gender – Woman
Rank – D+
Note – Snake Princess
Ren leaned closer.
"Snake Princess?"
"That's cool."
"D+…"
"She's strong."
Very strong.
Next.
Itsuki Saionji .
Without note.
Rank – C
Ren blinked.
"C again?"
He leaned closer to the screen.
"No note?"
He frowned.
"Wait… so this guy's strong but doesn't even have a nickname?"
He crossed his arms.
"That's suspicious."
A small grin formed.
"Either he's boring… or he's the worst kind of problem."
He tilted his head slightly.
"C without a title. Yeah… I don't like that."
Kaito Murakumo
Rank – C
Note – Heavy Smoker
"C?"
Ren sat up straight.
"That's a jump."
"C is… that's big."
"Wait."
"Why does everyone have a cool nickname except me?"
Uwu answered calmly.
"You have recently qualified."
Ren threw his hands in the air.
"Of course I did."
"This is discrimination."
Finally.
Tetsuya Kurogane
Rank – B+
Note – The Gladiator
The screen seemed heavier when displaying it.
Ren went silent.
"B+?"
His voice dropped.
"That's… a massive gap."
From E+ to B+ was enormous.
The silence in the room deepened.
For the first time since waking up—
Ren felt small.
Not eliminated.
Not weak.
Just… aware.
He leaned back slowly.
"B+…"
"That's a different tier."
His mind began recalculating.
"I have two D-level opponents. And two E-level"
"Two C."
"And a B+."
He stared at the screen.
"Gladiator."
He imagined the kind of player that title implied.
Physical dominance.
Unshakeable composure.
Presence.
Ren's playful tone faded.
"I need to prepare."
Uwu spoke.
"Round begins in three hours. Please prepare."
The television shut off.
Ren stared at the blank screen.
"Three hours?"
He stood up abruptly.
"THREE HOURS?"
"What am I supposed to prepare in three hours, you stupid robot?"
Silence answered him.
He paced the room.
Three hours.
He flexed his fingers.
"I can do this."
"Four advance."
"I just need to be top four."
He stopped pacing.
"But do I actually believe that?"
The question lingered.
He looked at the black token in his hand.
Then at the memory of Hiroki.
"I just wanted a better life."
Ren sat down on the edge of the bed.
Quiet.
"I want one too."
He stared at the floor.
"But do I want to win… or do I want to dominate?"
The distinction unsettled him.
Three hours.
Three hours to step into a table with a B+.
He clenched his jaw.
"I'll beat them."
He said it out loud.
But somewhere deep inside—
A quieter voice asked:
"Will you?"
The room remained silent.
And for the first time since surviving—
Ren wasn't sure whether confidence was enough anymore