Chapter 11: Drunk Felix

    Over the next hour, the pace of eliminations slowed down significantly.

    Leo stared at the glowing counter in his hand. The numbers had ticked down relentlessly at first, a blur of constant movement. But now, it crawled.

    490 pairs remaining.

    489.

    488.

    The drop was agonizingly slow, barely one or two pairs eliminated every five minutes.

    Compared to the frenzy of the first thirty minutes—when eliminations had been constant, brutal, and swift—it felt like a different test entirely.

    Leo exhaled, his breath slow and deliberate as he leaned back against the wall. He glanced at the Counter again, as if expecting it to speed up, but the numbers remained unchanged.

    ''The chaos has settled,'' he thought, his gaze narrowing. ''The weak are gone. Now, only the predators remain.''

    It was a sobering realization. Those who had been too slow, too unskilled, or too scared had already been culled. What remained were the best contestants: experienced, calculating, and dangerous.

    Leo dropped the Counter into his lap, his fingers trembling slightly as he flexed his hands. Pain shot through his palm as a result of the strained movement, making him wince sharply.

    His muscles ached still, even after an hour of rest, as whatever ability he used, seemed to have done a real number on his body.

    ''Will this heal in the short time?'' Leo wondered, as he raised his hand to eye level, watching as he slowly opened and closed his fingers. Each movement sent a fresh wave of discomfort through his arm, a stark reminder of the toll the fight had taken on him.

    His voice cracked, and he let out a dramatic sigh, his head falling back against the wall.

    "And don''t even get me started on my ancestors," he muttered, pointing a shaky finger at the ceiling as though addressing them directly. "You''re supposed to be watching over me, aren''t you? Isn''t that your job? Well, you''re doing a terrible job! What''s the point of ancestral blessings if I''m stuck here, about to be murdered by psychos with swords?"

    He groaned loudly, covering his face with one hand. "I swear, if I make it out of here alive, I''m moving to some quiet farm planet. No assassins, no tests, just me, some cows, and a nice, simple life."

    Felix took another swig from his gourd, pausing only to glare at the empty air in front of him. "And don''t even think about sending me on another mission, Mom. I''m done. D-O-N-E. You hear me?"

    He waved the gourd in the air like a flag, his voice rising in volume. "I''m gonna live like a king! No more tests! No more—"

    His gaze shifted to Leo, who was watching him silently, his expression unreadable. Felix froze mid-rant, his eyes narrowing as his bravado flared.

    "What? You got a problem?" Felix snapped, pushing himself to his feet unsteadily. He jabbed a finger in Leo''s direction, his flushed face twisting into an exaggerated scowl. "I don''t like your judgemental gaze! You think I''m scared? Huh? Is that it?"

    Leo raised an eyebrow, leaning back against the wall. "I didn''t say anything."

    "Yeah, well, you were thinking it," Felix retorted, wobbling slightly as he tried to maintain his stance. "You wanna fight? Huh? You want a piece of this fist too?"

    Leo sighed, his exhaustion making it impossible to muster any real annoyance. "Felix, sit down."

    Felix huffed, crossing his arms indignantly but eventually slumping back against the wall. "Yeah, whatever. I wasn''t serious anyway. You''re lucky I don''t feel like teaching you a lesson right now."

    Leo''s lips twitched, but he said nothing, his attention already drifting toward the sound of faint footsteps echoing down the corridor.

    "There''s someone down here.... Another prey to kill" said a feminine voice, as two sets of hurried footsteps suddenly made their way down the corridor.