# VOLUME 1. CHAPTER 1: NATURAL SELECTION
The pain didn't fade gradually; it was severed, as if someone had thrown a breaker on a high-voltage line.
A microsecond ago, Alex's memory was filled with the screech of tearing metal, the crushing impact against his ribcage, and the icy, dark water flooding his lungs. Then, in the blink of an eye, he inhaled dry, warm air that smelled of dust and old pine resin.
He sat up sharply, gasping for breath. The stiff mattress beneath him groaned, sending up a cloud of motes that danced in a singular beam of sunlight cutting through a crack in the wall.
Alex brought his hands to his face. He expected to see grime, grease, and the old scars from ten years of working as a mechanic—knuckles skinned by slipped wrenches, burns from hot engines.
But the hands were strangers.
The skin was smooth, clean, and unblemished. The muscles beneath shifted with a taut, springy power. His body felt weightless, humming with a clean, electric vitality, like a brand-new battery. He was twenty-five again. No chronic back pain, no smoker's wheeze—just an absolute, almost terrifying standard of perfect health.
He looked around.
He was in a long wooden structure, resembling a barracks from the early 20th century. The walls were made of roughly hewn logs, the gaps packed with dry moss. Along the walls stood two rows of simple bunk beds.
Twenty-five people were waking up simultaneously. Men and women, all looked equally young and athletic. Everyone wore the same attire: simple gray linen tunics, rough drawstring trousers, and cheap canvas shoes. It looked like prison garb or the uniform of a cult. No one stood out—not by height, nor by build.
"I was burning..." someone whispered to his left. A man was frantically patting his perfectly clean face, searching for burns. "The gas tank exploded... I remember the fire..."
"The brakes... they just failed..." muttered a boy on the adjacent bed (Tom), hugging his knees and rocking back and forth.
The silence was shattered by a thin, unnaturally crisp sound—*Ding!*
The air before everyone's eyes thickened, shimmered, and folded into a semi-transparent blue interface screen.
╔══════════════════════════════════════════════╗
║ [PLAYER STATUS: ALEX] ║
║ Level: 1 (0/100 XP) ║
║ ║
║ 🔴 Health: 100/100 ║
║ 🔵 Mana: 10/100 ║
║ 🟡 Stamina: 100/100 ║
║ ║
║ [ATTRIBUTES] (Baseline for all) ║
║ 💪 Strength: 20 | 🏃 Agility: 20 ║
║ 🧠 Intelligence: 20 | 🍀 Luck: 5 (Normal) ║
║ ║
║ [DEFENSE] ║
║ 🛡️ Phys. Armor: 6 (Linen Garb: 2+2+2) ║
║ 🔮 Mag. Armor: 0 ║
╚══════════════════════════════════════════════╝
"What the hell is this?!" A hysterical scream cut through the air.
Victor jumped down from the top bunk. Outwardly, he was just as athletic and twenty-five as everyone else, but his body language and tone betrayed a man used to giving orders. He moved jerkily, scanning the room for someone to blame.
"Is this a prank? Virtual reality? Hey! Where are the cameras?!" He ran to the wall and started pounding on it with his fist. "I demand an administrator! I'll sue you for illegal detention! Do you know who I am?! I managed the logistics department! I have a meeting in an hour!"
"What administrator, you fool?" snapped Mark, sitting calmly on the edge of his bed. He looked physically identical to Victor, but his eyes held a cold resignation. "We died. Don't you remember the darkness? This is Purgatory. We are being judged."
"You religious fanatic! It's a simulation! Elon Musk, damn it!" Victor's voice cracked into a screech, his perfect young face twisted in a grimace of rage that looked unnatural on him.
"And you're a blind idiot! Look at your hands! You died, Victor!"
In the corner, a girl, Bella, began to sob uncontrollably. Beside her, Tom trembled. A wave of panic was sweeping through the barracks like a contagion.
Alex remained silent.
He slowly swung his legs to the floor, testing the grip of the canvas shoes. His mind, trained to troubleshoot complex machinery, discarded the emotions. Panic was inefficient.
*We are all equal,* he noted coldly, his eyes scanning the interface. *Same bodies. Luck is 5—average. No starter bonuses. The System gave us tools but forgot the manual.*
Suddenly, the barracks' double doors burst open with a thunderous crash. The walls shook.
Standing on the threshold was a mountain of muscle—the Sergeant. He was the only one who didn't fit the mold. A hideous scar bisected his face, and in his hand, he gripped a heavy, spiked mace encrusted with dried blood.
"ON YOUR FEET, MEAT!" he roared. The voice vibrated in the chest of every person present. "I don't care how you died. I don't care if you were bankers, whores, or saints. Here, you are zeroes."
He swept a heavy gaze over the crowd. Victor pressed his back against the wall, his bravado evaporating instantly.
"This is the 'Bright Forest' zone. But don't think this is a resort," the Sergeant sneered, exposing yellowed teeth. "You have ten minutes to get out of my barracks. Whoever fails to leave stays here forever. And believe me, you will not like what the local vermin do to you when the sun goes down."
"Where do we go?" Bella sobbed, covering her mouth.
"Hell or Heaven, take your pick! Just get out! TIME STARTS NOW!" The Sergeant smashed his mace against the doorframe, sending splinters flying.
Above everyone's heads, red digits pulsed into existence:
**[09:59... 09:58...]**
The barracks exploded into chaos. People shoved, screamed, and scrambled toward the exit, tripping over each other in a mindless stampede.
Alex didn't run.
He stood still, watching the bottleneck at the door. Running unarmed into an unknown forest? That was a bad plan.
His gaze fell on the frame of his bunk bed. It was a crude construction, hammered together with nails, but one of the vertical support legs looked loose; the metal bracket was rusted through—a weak point in the structure.
*Weapon. I need an advantage. Any advantage.*
While the others panicked, Alex crouched, braced his foot against the bed frame, and gripped the loose leg with both hands. He engaged his back muscles.
*Strength 20. Let's see what you can do.*
*Crr-ack!*
The rusty metal yielded with a groan. In Alex's hand lay a heavy, jagged piece of iron, about two feet long.
> **[Obtained: Rusty Iron Strut]**
> **Type:** Improvised Weapon (Bludgeoning/Piercing)
> **Quality:** Trash
> **Damage:** 2-4
Alex weighed the bar in his hand. Cold. Rough. Lethal. He tucked it under his tunic, pressing it against his ribs with his elbow, and glanced at the timer. **09:15.**
"Now I can go," he whispered to himself, slipping out the door behind the mob.
***
### [PERSPECTIVE: ALEX] — THE FIRST HUNT
The forest met him with silence. The trees here were titanic, their crowns lost in the clouds, blocking out most of the sun. The grass reached his knees.
Alex immediately stepped off the beaten path.
*Roads are for targets. The forest loves silence.*
He moved from bush to bush, crouching low. His body moved with surprising ease—Agility 20 allowed him to step almost soundlessly. He felt like a character in a stealth game, only without a quick-save button.
After thirty minutes of careful movement, he heard the sound of running water.
*Water means life. It also means a meeting point. Everyone needs to drink: victims and predators alike.*
He found a dense patch of ferns overlooking a stream and froze. He waited.
An hour passed. The sun began to dip, painting the woods in bloody oranges and deep purples.
From the bushes opposite, two gray shadows emerged. **Horned Rabbits**.
They were the size of dogs, and a short, spiraling horn protruded from each of their foreheads.
> **[Target: Horned Rabbit]**
> **Level:** 1
> **Health:** 40/40
*Level 1. Two of them. This is my chance.*
Alex gripped his iron bar tighter. When the rabbits lowered their heads to drink, he launched himself from the ambush.
The fight was messy and brutal.
Alex swung the bar, aiming for the spine of the nearest rabbit.
**[-24 HP]** (Strength 20 + Weapon 4).
The rabbit shrieked, its back breaking with a wet crunch. It thrashed, unable to move its hind legs.
The second rabbit reacted instantly. It didn't flee. It turned and launched itself at Alex like a spring.
The sharp horn grazed Alex's thigh, tearing through the linen trousers.
**[-15 HP]**
The pain was sharp and hot, a sudden reminder of his mortality.
"You little rat!" Alex hissed through gritted teeth.
He stomped on the wounded rabbit's head to finish it, then pivoted to face the second one. It was coiling for another jump.
Alex thrust the iron bar forward like a spear. The rabbit leaped straight into the metal.
Impact. The weight of the animal impaled it on the jagged end. Alex followed up with a heavy fist from above.
> **[Killed: Horned Rabbit x2]**
> **[Experience Gained: +40 XP]** (20 per kill)
Alex breathed heavily, adrenaline pounding in his temples. He inspected his leg: the fabric was torn, and a deep scratch was bleeding sluggishly.
*15 damage... If a wolf comes, I'm dead.*
He didn't stop. He needed a Level Up. In games, a level up meant a full heal. He prayed that law applied here.
***
### [PERSPECTIVE: REN] — BIRTH OF A BERSERKER
Ren didn't run; he charged.
When he burst onto the clearing, he felt the adrenaline boiling in his blood, not as fear, but as fuel.
His past life had been a gray existence of an office drone, where he was a nobody. Here, in this new, powerful body, he felt a wild, intoxicating ecstasy.
"Out of my way!" he barked, shoving Bella aside as she hesitated on the path. She fell, tripping Tom.
Ren didn't even look back. *The weak are meant to fall,* he thought.
He plunged into the thicket and immediately sought a weapon. He found a massive, knotted branch that resembled a club.
Not ten minutes later, a **Red Fox** jumped out at him. The animal hissed, arching its back.
Ren didn't hide. He didn't plan. He laughed—a guttural, manic sound—and rushed into a frontal attack.
"Come to daddy!"
The fox tried to dodge, but Ren, fueling his swing with pure rage, brought the club down.
*Crack.*
The sound of breaking bone was music to him.
> **[Killed: Red Fox (Level 1)]**
> **[Experience: +50 XP]** (Bonus for Brutality)
Ren's eyes shone. He understood the rules of this world faster than anyone: might makes right.
By evening, he had killed everything that crossed his path: snakes, giant beetles, hares. He didn't care about the scratches or the fatigue.
As the sun set, a crimson aura enveloped him.
> **🎉 CONGRATULATIONS! LEVEL 2!**
> **[Class Unlocked: WARRIOR (Berserker)]**
> **[Skill: RAGE]** (+30% Strength, -50% Armor).
Ren didn't hesitate. He dumped all his free attribute points into **STRENGTH**. His muscles swelled, becoming as hard as rock. He was becoming a machine.
***
### [PERSPECTIVE: LEO'S GROUP] — THE FIRST SQUAD
While the loners scattered, **Leo** acted like a manager. He stood aside near the barracks, observing not the appearances—they were all identical—but the reactions.
"You!" he shouted at a man who wasn't running but trying to pry a plank off the door. "Name?"
"**Bruno**," the man rumbled calmly.
"You're not afraid. You're our shield. You take point."
Leo scanned the crowd quickly.
"You," he pointed at a woman (**Sarah**) who was scanning the tree line instead of crying. "You're observant. You're our eyes. Find stones. Sharp ones."
"**Oliver**, **Mira**," he addressed a pair that looked the most composed. "Watch our six. We hold formation."
"Our objective is a base," Leo commanded. "Arm yourselves with sticks. No heroics."
By late afternoon, they found a shallow cave. Perfect shelter.
But it was occupied.
From the darkness, a **Young Bear (Level 3)** emerged, growling low in its throat.
"Combat positions! Bruno, block! Sarah, Oliver—aim for the eyes and nose!" Leo didn't flinch.
It was chaos, but controlled chaos.
The bear swiped. Bruno took the hit on a thick log he was using as a greatshield. The wood splintered, and Bruno grunted, sliding back a foot, but he held the line. He was just as athletic as the others, but his resolve made him a tank.
Sarah hurled sharp stones with surprising accuracy. Mira pulled the injured Oliver back when he got too close.
Leo saw the opening. "Now!"
They thrust their sharpened sticks in unison.
When the bear finally collapsed, they were barely standing.
> **[Group Combat Concluded]**
> **[Level Gained: 2]** (Massive bonus for level difference)
Leo wiped sweat from his brow.
"We survived. And we just became a team."
***
### [PERSPECTIVE: TINA] — FRIEND, NOT FOE
**Tina** cried as she ran through the forest. Her new body was strong, capable of sprinting for miles, but her soul remained gentle.
She stumbled upon a raspberry bush.
Suddenly, the branches parted. A **Forest Cat**—large, with tufted ears like a lynx—stared at her.
Tina froze. The animal sniffed the air, its eyes locking onto her.
"Are... are you hungry?" her voice trembled.
She didn't reach for a stick. Instead, she offered the cat a handful of berries.
The cat sneezed. It didn't like berries. But it didn't attack. It sensed no threat from this two-legged creature.
Tina took a risk. She reached out slowly. The cat allowed her to scratch behind its ear, and the forest filled with a loud, vibrating purr.
In the evening, when a pack of rats attacked Tina, the Cat defended her, tearing the attackers to shreds with blurred swipes of its claws.
> **[Class Unlocked: SUMMONER (Tamer)]**
> **[Skill Acquired: Soul Link]**
Tina hugged her furry protector, burying her face in its fur. She was weak, but she was no longer alone.
***
### [PERSPECTIVE: SVEN] — ARMY OF ONE
Red-haired **Sven** was silent. He didn't seek company, nor did he fall into a rage. He just worked.
Finding a wide piece of bark, he fashioned a shield, binding it to his left arm with vines. In his right hand, he held a heavy cudgel.
"Shield check. Hammer check."
When a **Wolf** stepped onto his path, Sven met it in a stance.
The beast leaped. Sven didn't flinch. He met the impact with his shield, absorbing the kinetic energy with his knees.
*Thud.*
He struck back—short, precise, aiming for the ribs.
The fight was long and methodical. Block. Bash. Block. Bash.
> **[Class Unlocked: DEFENDER]**
> **[Experience: 90/100]**
Sven sat down to repair his shield. He would survive. He was certain of it.
***
### [PERSPECTIVE: CHAOS AND VICTIMS]
For the rest, the barracks became a trap, and the forest a grave.
**Victor** couldn't accept reality.
"It has to be a simulation!" he screamed, clawing his way up a tall pine tree, desperate to see the 'edge of the map' or the stadium lights.
He climbed five meters. A branch beneath his foot snapped.
The impact with the ground was sickening. The sound of a bone snapping was louder than his scream.
> **[Critical Fall!]**
> **[-35 HP]**
> **[Trauma: Compound Fracture (Tibia). Speed: -80%]**
Victor lay in the grass, staring at the white bone protruding from his shin. His perfect young body broke just as easily as his old one. The pain was excruciating, blinding, real.
"Help... somebody... I'll pay you..." he whispered, but the forest answered only with silence.
**Tom and Bella**, shaking with terror, huddled under a bush. When a **Giant Bark Beetle** scuttled toward them, clicking its mandibles, they shrieked until their voices gave out. They bludgeoned the beetle with rocks in a state of hysterical frenzy, turning it into a pulp long after it was dead.
They survived, but their eyes were empty.
The others scattered. Some ate poisonous mushrooms and curled up in agony. Some sat in trees, too afraid to come down as night claimed the woods.
The forest was starting its natural selection.
***
### [PERSPECTIVE: ALEX] — EVENING
Alex sat on a thick oak branch, having strapped himself to the trunk with his belt so he wouldn't fall in his sleep.
He checked his status.
**Level 2.**
In his pocket rattled two teeth from the horned rabbits—materials for arrowheads. In his hands, he held the iron bar, now cleaned of loose rust.
He saw system notifications of the first deaths flickering in the corner of his vision.
"Day one complete," he whispered to the darkness. "Tomorrow will be harder."
He closed his eyes, forcing his body to relax. Alex knew that the winner wasn't the strongest, nor the smartest.
It was the one who adapted the fastest.