Chapter 3: Real-Life Death Game
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Night fell, with a sparse moon and bright stars. Every ripple on the sea shimmered with moonlight. Jiang He seemed stranded, carried by the waves onto the mudflats. As the water seeped into the ground, he slowly rose. Without a professional diving combat suit, this method minimized noise as much as possible. The player’s item pouch not only stored oxygen but could also hold living creatures.
He took up the short crossbow on his back. It held twenty-four bolts in total, the quiver hanging at his waist with its lid now open. Each bolt’s tip was smeared with feces; without first aid supplies, prey struck by these would hardly survive even if they escaped. These were weapons of slaughter.
Advancing along the rocky layers, there were no buildings on the mudflats. Upon entering the dense forest, Jiang He no longer lifted his legs but moved almost by sliding. When he was twelve, he had gone hunting at sea and in the mountains but once stepped on a dry branch, startling prey and nearly losing his life. Anping Island was half mountains, half flatlands, with the Yu King Temple locally revered—a traditional folk belief.
As he pressed deeper into the forest, a stench more putrid than fish filled the air, sharply assaulting his senses. He was almost numb to it, but such a distinct odor easily gave away one’s position, proving the creatures here likely occupied the top of the food chain.
Suddenly, Jiang He halted.
About a hundred meters away, a small cabin appeared in a clearing. Four strange black shadows lingered around it—hunched figures with gaunt faces under the moonlight, pale eyes, and unnaturally sharp nails.
Jiang He paused briefly. Although he had encountered old dogs and giant snakes that had become players, the presence of zombie-like beings still chilled him to the bone.
Ordinary flesh and blood could not stop a steel torrent, but if zombies erupted without control, densely populated areas could quickly fall. Everything happened for a reason; rather than a virus emerging naturally, he suspected manipulation from behind the scenes.
In other words, there might be other players on the island, or at least other supernatural beings.
“You can hide behind the scenes, deceiving the nations below.”
Jiang He entered a perfect hunting state, standing still like a statue, as if devoid of life, his breath blending seamlessly with the surrounding trees and stones.
According to the Origin Battlefield’s introduction, the rules here didn’t fully align with real-world countries. Under these circumstances, whether the zombies were his mission targets was uncertain, involving another conjecture.
“Old Black might also be a mission target for other players.”
Holding his breath, Jiang He circled the cabin within a hundred-meter radius; there were only four zombies.
Returning to his original spot, he advanced slowly. At fifty meters, the zombies froze. When the distance closed to forty meters, they began scanning their surroundings.
Jiang He raised his crossbow. This weapon’s range exceeded the distance, but lacking the innate marksmanship talent of guaranteed hits, it wasn’t until this moonlit forest moment that he dared aim confidently for their heads.
His finger squeezed the trigger. The bolt shot forth, slicing the air, the bowstring vibrating with an afterimage. A streak struck one zombie’s eye socket, shattering the pale eyeball like a heavy hammer blow. The zombie fell backward, a half-bolt piercing its skull, oozing disgusting fluid.
No mission completion prompt sounded.
Jiang He rolled sharply to the side, quickly reloading. From a treetop behind him, a half-meter-long beast lunged but missed. It resembled a raccoon dog but had long, human-like hair and pale eyes.
Without hesitation, Jiang He aimed again and fired.
The second bolt flew through the air, its sharp arrowhead piercing flesh and burying deep near the chest. The beast let out a fierce howl, nimbly leaping between trees before vanishing, leaving a trail of murky blood.
Since landing on the island, this strange creature had followed him patiently, waiting for any weakness. Even when bypassing the cabin, it lurked in his blind spots.
The sound of snapping dry branches echoed continuously.
Unhurriedly, Jiang He nocked a third bolt. Exposed, three zombies charged wildly toward him.
“Their speed is far inferior to wolves, but they’re fearless and can’t be injured. Judging by their formation, they lack intelligence; their skull hardness is no different from normal humans.”
His eyes cold, Jiang He released the third bolt, and the centrally positioned zombie collapsed.
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After a breath, two snarling zombies stood before him, their breath foul enough to suffocate. Their eyes were void of spirit, driven only by pure hunger for flesh and blood.
Jiang He discarded the crossbow. A dagger slid from his forearm into his hand. Like a compressed spring, he explosively stepped forward, vanishing from sight. His legs stretched far like a tiger leaping a ravine, delivering a flying kick to a zombie’s head.
The strike sounded like a heavy drumbeat, accompanied by the dull crack of breaking bones.
His body soared, center of gravity shifted, and defenses left open—all exchanged for maximal offensive power. The zombie’s skull was kicked clean off. Its withered flesh had lost the resilience of a living person.
Jiang He landed. Had he faced a master fighter, that flying tiger kick would have been suicide, but he had already gauged his foes’ level, leaving room to maneuver.
The last zombie lunged. Its nails curved and sharp as beast claws, capable of ripping away chunks of flesh when embedded.
Jiang He rose, striking the zombie’s wrist with his left hand, stepping close to evade a swipe at his right shoulder. His right hand wielded the dagger in a semicircle, precisely slicing into the opponent’s lower jaw, piercing the oral and nasal cavities, destroying the zombie’s brain tissue. The oncoming stench made him frown; the thick foulness gave no clue about the time of death.
All four zombies were destroyed.
Scanning the surroundings, Jiang He retrieved his crossbow, reloaded, and approached the cabin nearby. Dozens of zombies lay haphazardly among the bushes, riddled with bullet holes.
He kicked open the door. Inside were only two incomplete corpses. In a corner, a tall man sat in a pool of blood, head lowered, a pistol fallen beside him—he had taken his own life.
“Glock 17.”
Jiang He picked up the handgun. The Glock 17, chambered in 9mm, was lightweight, simple in structure, with a 17-round magazine and an effective range of about 50 meters. Loaded weight was under one kilogram.
Only two rounds remained in the magazine. The cabin also held three rifles, but no ammunition.
“Ran out of bullets and chose suicide, huh?”
Jiang He put away the pistol. Carrying illegal firearms was a serious crime in this territory. If the victim died from a bullet, the repercussions could be immense. Without a player’s item pouch, he would never touch such “dangerous items.”
Inside the cabin, several computers displayed clear surveillance footage. Among the desktop files, one caught his attention: titled “Wilderness Survival Show Script Details,” all in English. It detailed the segments of a survival program, focusing on the production team’s guidance.
This show was the flagship program of Leviathan Company in Europe, inviting guests worldwide annually to film in harsh environments with closed sets. It boasted high ratings but ceased broadcasting last year due to participant fatalities.
Jiang He also found several deceased contestants’ phones. After fingerprint unlock, unusual messages appeared.
“48 death row inmates have landed; all units be alert.”
“Hunting has begun; staff forbidden to bet; violators will be dealt with immediately.”
“Prey must not leave the island; shoot to kill if necessary.”
“Warning! Warning!”
“Number 9 abnormal; eliminate death row inmate number 9 immediately!”
...
Jiang He skimmed the device logs. With backend access, he pieced together the events.
A year ago, Leviathan Company reorganized its film department, turning the survival show into a real-life death game. Death row inmates were selected from private prisons to attack contestants. Only one could survive to earn freedom and a large reward.
Behind this slaughter grew a gambling-like spectacle, with many foreign high rollers betting and even participating. But in the second game, a genuine player appeared among the inmates, spiraling the situation out of control.
Still, the island remained semi-sealed off.
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Massive reinforcements were en route. Leviathan Company planned to capture number 9 alive. Formerly a biology PhD, this individual now exhibited supernatural powers, greatly intriguing the masterminds.
As for the death game, Jiang He was indifferent. Though gory, it was less perverse than the infamous Lolita Island incident from a few years back—just another chaotic overseas mess.
At that moment, a notification sounded.
“[Daily Task: Eliminated the mutated species. Reward settlement initiated.]”
“[Task Reward ①: 100 XP, 100 game coins.]”
“[Task Reward ②: One random common item.]”
“[Player Overall Performance: A. Received 160% bonus on game coins and experience.]”
“[Current XP: 160/100. Player will level up and gain one free attribute point and one skill point. Upgrade now?]”
Without hesitation, Jiang He accepted. As the notification ended, he completed the reward collection, leveling up from LV1 to LV2. Born by the sea, he casually changed his nickname to Desert Guest. The strange beast likely died from blood loss; unlike humans who know how to heal and staunch bleeding, most beasts struggle frantically when injured, sometimes even heightening their fear.
“[Item Pouch: 2 cubic meters.]”
“[Energy: 200/200.]”
“[Experience: 60/200.]”
“[Game Coins: 160.]”
He invested his free attribute point into agility.
“[Agility: 7] (Professional track athlete.)”
Skill points went into marksmanship.
“[Basic Gun Skill LV6 (12% increased damage with polearms).]”
After leveling up, Jiang He felt subtle changes in his body: muscles tightened, internal warmth doubled and began to flow, and since his growth plates hadn’t closed yet, his height increased by one centimeter.
Simultaneously, a nearly two-meter-long massive broadsword appeared before him.
“[Name: Great Cleaver]”
“[Category: Weapon]”
“[Quality: Common]”
“[Effect: ① Huge. ② Durable.]”
“[Note: A sword meant for cutting horses.]”
Jiang He’s expression shifted slightly. He could wield such a giant blade without issue, but long-term use would diminish his agility. Ordinary swords weighed only a few kilograms. The Origin Battlefield’s random rewards never considered player compatibility. What he needed now were polearms or ammunition. This thing was best sold later.