CHAPTER 111: BREE

But Riley didn’t even flinch. His cold gaze swept across them, emotionless and sharp, before he pulled his hand away and dashed forward.

To the group, it looked as though he vanished in an instant.

All they felt was the sudden gust of wind rushing past, brushing against their faces, as though he had never stood there in the first place.

They sighed heavily, shoulders dropping.

"...Of course," one muttered bitterly, his voice low. "He doesn’t want to team up with weaklings like us..."

Another player shook his head, mumbling under his breath, his tone heavy with self-pity. "This game is so unfair... It’s not my fault I awakened a weak talent... or failed my class advancement..."

While he wallowed in despair, still staring at the ground, his body suddenly jerked forward.

A sharp blade burst out from his chest, gleaming red with fresh blood.

His eyes went wide in shock as hot pain surged through him.

"Gah—!" He coughed violently, blood spraying from his lips as he staggered, trying to turn around.

Behind him stood a woman clad in light armor, her figure graceful even in the harsh glow of the battlefield.

A wicked smirk curled on her lips as she watched him writhe.

It was the same woman who had reached for Riley earlier, the one he had ignored.

Her beauty was striking, her curves showing even beneath the armor, but her expression now was nothing but cold calculation.

"Sorry," she muttered softly, almost mockingly. "I can’t fall behind too much on points."

The man tried to speak, but no words came. His mouth opened and closed, blood gurgling in his throat.

His body shuddered once, then collapsed onto the ground with a dull thud.

A moment later, his form dissolved into tiny white particles, scattering into nothingness as though he had never been there at all.

The players around were stunned into silence. Weapons were immediately raised, the sharp scrape of steel and the faint crackle of mana filling the air las they turned their hostility toward the woman.

A mixture of disbelief and fury filled their eyes, the shock of seeing one of their own slain so casually still fresh in their minds.

The woman, however, didn’t flinch. Instead, she simply chuckled, the sound light and airy, as though nothing around her was serious.

She looked completely at ease, even with a dozen sharpened blades and glowing staffs pointed her way.

Her lips curled into a smug smile, and she lazily flicked her wrist, almost dismissive of the tension that hung in the air like a blade’s edge.

"Why’re y’all so... mad?" she said, her voice dripping with mockery.

The words rolled off her tongue with an infuriating sweetness, as if she were teasing them for even bothering to react.

She tilted her head slightly, a playful glint in her dark blue eyes. "You don’t look cute that way."

Gasps rippled through the group, some of the players twitching with suppressed rage.

Others shuffled uncomfortably, caught between their outrage and the fear gnawing at the back of their minds.

With deliberate slowness, she raised her free hand and flicked her long dark blue hair to the side, letting the strands dance in the air.

She stood confidently, her form accentuated even in the light armor she wore. "

It’s just a game," she said softly, almost as though explaining to children. "Nothing too serious."

She let the silence linger for a heartbeat before her smile widened, her voice taking on an icy playfulness. "I wanted points, and I killed him to get them... that’s all."

The words hit like a hammer.

Murmurs spread across the group, their faces tightening, jaws clenched and eyes narrowing. Their expressions squeezed with frustration, and yet beneath the anger, hesitation crept in.

Because, deep down, they knew she was kind of right.

As much as they wanted to deny it, her reasoning wasn’t entirely flawed. This wasn’t reality—it was Apocalypse.

And now that this event had begun, the rules were far harsher than any of them had anticipated.

What happened served as a grim reminder, a sharp slap in the face: the situation was dangerous, far more than they had accounted for.

Since players could gain points by killing each other, no one knew who might suddenly turn against them.

Friendships could shatter in a second, alliances could dissolve with a blade to the back.

And just like that, the balance collapsed.

More players suddenly lashed out, driven by paranoia, fear, or greed.

A spear thrust forward before its wielder even realized it, piercing a mage who had been standing too close.

A panicked archer fired an arrow, the shot tearing through the throat of a swordsman who had been looking the other way.

Screams erupted.

Chaos bloomed like fire spreading through dry grass.

A few more of the weaker players were killed instantly, their bodies breaking down into tiny white particles that floated briefly in the air before scattering into nothingness.

Those particles seemed to mock the living, a constant reminder that any of them could be next.

The woman only chuckled again. The sound was low, throaty, amused.

Her lips parted slightly, revealing a smile that was both enticing and cruel.

Her eyes roamed the group with the sharpness of a predator scanning prey, every subtle movement of her gaze making those she looked at stiffen.

Then her eyes narrowed.

She focused on a small cluster of players who had managed to hold their ground despite the chaos.

Their weapons were steady, their stance unbroken. They weren’t panicking, not like the others. Her smile deepened as she smirked to herself.

’They seem... okay.’

The thought was sharp, cutting through her mind like a knife. She wasn’t interested in the trash that died in one blow. She wanted those who might actually last long enough to make things interesting.

But before she could act further, one of the players—his anger boiling over—snapped.

"You see no problem in killing others, right?!" he shouted, voice cracking with fury and desperation.

His grip tightened around the heavy club in his hands, veins bulging on his forearm. His body trembled with emotion as he bared his teeth. "Then don’t be mad when I kill you!"

With a roar, he charged straight at her, boots pounding against the dirt. His weapon swung in a brutal arc, aiming to crush her skull in a single blow.

Yet, she didn’t flinch.

She didn’t even bother moving.

Her smile lingered, serene, as her eyes suddenly glowed with an unnatural, bright pink light.

The aura radiated outward, invisible yet suffocating, and in the same instant, the eyes of a tall player among the crowd ignited with the same eerie glow.

The man charging at her didn’t notice—until it was too late.

As he swung his club down with all his might, the tall player moved. He emerged behind the attacker in a blur, faster than his size should have allowed.

Before the club could even land, the tall man grabbed the attacker’s head with both hands and slammed it mercilessly against the ground.

The impact cracked the earth beneath them, a dull thud echoing through the clearing.

The attacker’s scream was cut short, choked off by pain and shock.

The tall player’s sword followed immediately, slicing cleanly across the throat of the man pinned beneath him.

Blood gushed out in a violent spray, staining the ground red. The player twitched once, then fell limp.

Tiny white particles began to scatter from his body, carried away by the faint breeze.

The woman chuckled again, delighted by the sight, her glowing eyes locked onto the tall man as though he were her puppet—and in a sense, he was.

Her power radiated from her effortlessly, commanding obedience without a word.

Her eyes glowed brighter, and she tilted her head, lips curling into a playful smirk.

The player dropped to his knees before the woman, his eyes glowing brighter, his voice low and reverent.

"My queen..." he muttered, almost worshipfully.

Bree chuckled at the sight, a soft, dark laugh that carried over the uneasy silence of the cavern.

She bent slightly, her hand rising as though in affection. With an almost gentle motion, she patted his head.

The other players froze in shock, their expressions stiff with disbelief.

None of them had fully grasped what they were seeing, but the truth was undeniable—this was her power.

It wasn’t coincidence, nor was it luck. She had forced him into submission, made him bend his knee like some loyal servant.

The realization sank into the crowd like cold water. None of them wanted to end up like him. None of them wanted to be stripped of their will and made to serve her like puppets.

Fear spread quickly. Some of the NPCs—those who had entered alongside them—were already dead, their bodies still lying dead on the ground.

Many of them had been caught in between the players clashes, and unlike players who disintegrated after death, their corpses would remain.

The few who remained huddled back, trembling and terrified. They had no hope of surviving. In this dungeon, reputation or relationship ranks meant absolutely nothing.

Here, players could freely kill NPCs without fear of penalty. Their lives were simply... worthless.

Bree smirked, placing her hands on her hips as she scanned the frightened crowd. Her tongue brushed her lips as though savoring the taste of their fear.

"I’m Bree..." she said, her voice calm yet dripping with arrogance. "The woman who’ll soon be your queen."

Her eyes flared with that same bright pink glow, more vibrant than before. This time, five more players within the crowd stiffened.