Kanji's heart pounded violently, each beat echoing in his chest like a drum of doom. The ground beneath his feet was cracked, scorched, and littered with jagged rocks that seemed to pierce the red haze that cloaked the sky. The air was thick with the acrid smell of sulfur and burnt flesh, though he couldn't see any fire close by. His eyes darted everywhere, but no matter where he looked, there was only the blood-red landscape, the endless horizon, and the looming shadow of something far more terrifying than anything he had ever seen: a massive, hulking monster moving slowly, deliberately, across the jagged terrain.
Kenji crouched behind a jagged rock, his palms pressed to the rough surface, his nails digging in as though it could somehow anchor him to the ground and prevent him from being devoured by the impossible reality surrounding him. He hadn't even dared to breathe properly, fearing that the sound of his own respiration would betray his presence. For a man who had lived a normal life in bustling Tokyo, his entire body now screamed panic and instinctual terror.
The screen that had appeared earlier, the black-and-red monolithic system, now flashed again. Its cold text appeared as if mocking him:
[Kill the monster 127 meters away]
Kenji's eyes widened. "127… meters?" His throat constricted. "I—I can't even—what kind of monster…?!" He wanted to scream, to curse, to demand some kind of explanation, but no sound came out. His body was frozen in that moment of dread, and he could feel the sweat rolling down his spine, stinging the already raw skin.
The monster—he had seen it earlier, though it was now out of sight—had to be at least fifteen feet tall. Its body was grotesque, humanoid in some parts, but twisted and alien in others, with jagged appendages and claws that seemed capable of ripping through stone. Its movements were deliberate, calculating, like it had been hunting for centuries. Kenji had no weapons, no armor, no skill. He was nothing but a man in a world that wanted him dead. The sheer hopelessness of the situation pressed down on him like a physical weight, making each shallow breath feel like inhaling shards of glass.
He tried to think. "It… it hasn't noticed me. Maybe it didn't hear me. Maybe… maybe it thinks I'm too weak to even bother with." His mind clung to any fragment of hope it could. His heart still hammered with frantic energy, but the tiniest thought of escape was a lifeline, however thin.
Kenji's hands shook as he wiped sweat from his brow. "If there's a god… if anyone… if anything at all exists… please… just let me survive this. Please…" Even as he prayed, he didn't believe in gods. He had never been religious. But the sheer, instinctual terror clawing at him forced his tongue to move with a desperate hope.
He glanced around the lifeless, crimson landscape, trying to find some kind of strategic advantage. Every rock, every jagged cliff, every crevice could be a shield. He needed something, anything, to give himself a chance, because he knew if he stayed out in the open, he would die within seconds if the monster noticed him.
Hours passed. The monster's massive form occasionally appeared on the horizon, moving methodically across the jagged terrain. Kenji's stomach growled painfully, the pangs of hunger slicing through his terror like knives. His throat was dry, and the heat of the red sky pressed down, making him dizzy and nauseated. Every movement was agony; even breathing felt like effort.
"What am I going to do…?!" he whispered to himself, crouched low behind a rock. "If this is a dream, I want to wake up! Please… wake me up!" His hands clenched into fists, nails digging into his palms until the skin broke, but the pain barely registered. It was nothing compared to the fear consuming him. The world outside his hiding spot was a nightmare beyond comprehension.
Finally, almost by instinct, Kenji began to move, keeping to the shadows of jagged cliffs and uneven rocks. He knew he couldn't stay in one place forever. The system's message was still fresh in his mind, chilling and absolute. There was no negotiation. There was no mercy. This place was cold, inhuman, indifferent—and the system reflected that in every flashing message. Survival wasn't a choice; it was an obligation, a razor-sharp blade pressing against his throat.
Hours of wandering left him famished, thirsty, and barely able to stand. He stumbled across a shallow ridge and froze. Ahead, a smaller creature—only about five feet tall—was scavenging along the jagged rocks. Its movements were quick, nervous, almost fragile compared to the immense, hulking figure of the fifteen-foot monster. Kenji's stomach twisted. Even this smaller monster was dangerous, but it was manageable. It was a start.
He crouched behind a boulder, heart hammering. He had no weapons, no tools, and no real plan. "I… I have to… I have to kill it," he muttered, voice trembling. "If I don't… I'll starve… I'll die… I can't… I can't just die here…" Panic and desperation made his voice hoarse, barely audible. "I can't… I won't…"
Kenji scanned the terrain. His eyes landed on a cliff nearby, jagged and steep, the edge sharp and unforgiving. A wild, desperate thought took root in his mind: he could use the environment to his advantage. If he could maneuver the monster near the cliff and—somehow—make it fall, it would be over. He swallowed hard, the idea almost making him choke on his own fear. "This… this is crazy… I could die… it could crush me… I could die…" His words were broken, a stream of panic and realization of the stakes. But he also knew it was his only chance. Survival demanded it.
He crept toward the cliff, moving as quietly as possible. Every step was excruciating; the jagged rocks tore at his shoes and scraped his skin. He imagined the fifteen-foot monster might appear at any moment, and his chest tightened in anticipation. The sweat on his forehead burned his eyes. His stomach roared in protest. His legs shook violently, but still, he pressed on. This was life or death, and he had no choice.
The smaller monster had not yet noticed him. Its movements were clumsy but precise, clearly adapted for hunting small prey. Kenji's breath caught as he realized the danger he still faced. One wrong move, and he'd be dead. One slip, one misstep—and all his hopes, all his dreams, would be extinguished in the red mist.
He picked up a rock from the ground, feeling its weight in his trembling hand. His palms were slick with sweat. "Here goes nothing… I… I can't mess this up…" He whispered to himself. The moment felt eternal, time stretching and warping around him. Every instinct screamed at him to run, to hide, to surrender—but he couldn't. He had to survive. He had to.
Kenji hurled the rock with all his might. It arced through the air and struck the monster's head. The creature froze, letting out a screech that cut through the red sky like a knife. Kenji's stomach dropped. The monster turned, eyes wide, and began moving toward him. Panic surged. He bolted, legs pumping, heart hammering, sweat and blood mixing on his skin. The monster gained on him, faster than he expected. Every instinct screamed that he was about to die.
The chase was chaotic, terrifying. Kenji ducked and dodged, weaving through jagged rocks, barely avoiding the creature's massive claws. He could feel the heat radiating from it, smell its fetid breath as it closed in. For a moment, he thought it had him; his body tensed, ready for the impact that never came. He rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding death. Each second was a battle against fate itself.
Finally, he reached the cliff. His mind screamed in panic. This was his only chance. Summoning every ounce of strength, he shoved the creature with all his might. It teetered on the edge, its massive feet scrambling for purchase. Kenji's arms burned, legs trembling. The monster let out a final screech before tipping over the cliff, falling into the darkness below. Silence followed. Kenji sank to the ground, shaking violently, chest heaving, sweat and tears mingling. He had survived. But he didn't feel victory. Only relief, and an overwhelming sense of exhaustion and terror.
Then the system spoke again. Its cold, impersonal text appeared:
[Kill the monster 1647 meters away]
[Congratulations on killing the weakest monster of all]
Kenji stared, disbelief etched on his pale, bloodshot face. "Weakest…? Weakest?!" His voice cracked. "I risked… I risked my life for… this?!" The words barely escaped, swallowed by the void. There was no one to respond. The system didn't care about his effort, his fear, or his survival. It only recorded facts.
He collapsed onto the scorched ground, shivering violently. His hands trembled uncontrollably. He had survived, but the world was indifferent, cruel, and inhuman. Hunger, thirst, and exhaustion gnawed at his body. Each breath felt like it burned his lungs. Yet, somehow, he was alive.
He didn't know if he would live to see the next moment, let alone the next day. He didn't know if he would ever return home, see his family, or feel sunlight on his skin again. And yet, he had survived. By some measure, against impossible odds, he had survived.
Kenji looked at the horizon, red and endless, knowing that the next challenge was coming, and that he had no choice but to meet it. Every instinct screamed at him to run, to hide, to die. And yet, he would fight. Because survival demanded it. Because surrender was not an option. And because deep, deep inside, he knew that he had no other choice