Jamie was still surrounded, four enemies circling him like hungry wolves, each one taking turns to strike. Luckily, he had managed to fend them off countless times already.
Their movements were precise, experienced—nothing like the clumsy opponents he had fought in the first game.
A katana hissed through the air, aimed straight at his heart.
Jamie barely managed to block. Steel clashed against his forearm guard, the vibration shooting painfully up his arm. He tried to counter, muscles tensing for the strike—but another enemy was already there, stepping in and cutting off his offense before it could even begin.
"Who gets his skill after we kill him?" one of them asked, his voice casual, as if the outcome had already been decided.
They circled tighter, hawks over their prey. At this rate, it was only a matter of minutes before Jamie would be completely cornered.
"As second-in-command, I deserve his skill," the muscular bald man said calmly. His eyes flicked briefly toward the Commander, who was still locked in battle with Greg, as if trying to gauge how the fight was progressing.
Another laughed, the greed obvious on his face.
"Come on boy, show us your special skill already. Don't make this boring."
His hand reached toward Jamie in mock invitation, fingers curling tauntingly.
Jamie's heart pounded like a drum inside his chest, each beat loud enough to drown out the chaos around him. Adrenaline surged through his body in violent waves.
Every instinct screamed at him to pounce on them with everything he had—but the reality of being outnumbered forced him to hesitate.
When Jamie looked deep into their eyes as they moved even closer, he saw no fear in them.
Not even a trace,they knew he wouldn't kill.
That weakness gave them confidence.
That's when he realized something vital.
His only choice was to redeem a special skill.
He raised his trembling hands toward the glowing ring. If he could just—
Then—
The voice.
That same mysterious voice.
Whether memory or reality, it rang sharply inside his skull.
"Not now."
The words echoed again and again.
Jamie froze.
His chest rose and fell rapidly as his mind struggled to keep up. He remembered—every time the voice had appeared, something had happened.
Every time, it had led to victory.
"This will be one of those times," he told himself, clinging to the thought like a drowning man clinging to driftwood.
Relief surged through him—fragile, desperate, but real.
"Let's not waste our time with him. We have another base to dominate," the bald vice-commander said, his voice steady and commanding.
"Wait—you're planning to be the only ones left!?" Jamie shouted, his eyes widening.
The squad burst into laughter.
They were clearly enjoying every moment of this—their own twisted version of building an empire in a world where none existed anymore.
Their plan was working.
Every resource at their disposal was pushing them further ahead.
Just as Alexander had calculated, this was a game of numbers—and the Commander's side had the numbers.
Jamie's hope flickered,there was no way to survive this.
Even luck wouldn't get you out of the terrible situation he was in.
But in the darkness, one light still burned.
"Greg…"
Greg had activated his special skill, he just had to beat the Commander.
If Greg won—everything would be alright.
Jamie let that fragile hope swell in his chest.
Only for it to be punched out of him—literally.
The vice-commander's fist slammed into his jaw with a sickening crack, and Jamie collapsed to the ground, spitting blood.
Warm, metallic liquid poured from his mouth.
He gasped in horror at the sheer amount.
His trembling hands came away stained red. His vision swam, the world tilting as his breath turned ragged and uneven.
Fear swallowed him whole.
Yet through the haze of pain and panic, one thought still stood tall in his mind.
Greg.
[3:00]
The Commander's gaze locked onto Greg, sharp and calculating.
He had already deciphered the basics of Overhaul, but something about it still didn't add up. Something was missing.
Greg leapt forward, spear humming faintly in his hand. A vicious kick followed, driving straight into the Commander's abs.
The impact forced him back several steps.
His eyes twitched.
Even through his block, the pain burned deep.
Greg didn't hesitate.
He pressed the advantage—his elbow slammed into the Commander's jaw, snapping his head sideways.
Blood sprayed into the air, a thin mist catching the light.
Not much.
But enough.
Enough to prove his strikes were working.
Gasps rippled through the surrounding minions.
"He's actually beating him…" one whispered, disbelief spreading across their faces.
On the ground, Jamie's lips curled into a weak, bloody smile.
"Let's go, Greg."
He pushed himself shakily to his feet, trying to hold onto that small spark of hope.
The Commander wiped the blood from his lip slowly, his jaw tightening.
"I was right…his speed hasn't changed. I'm still faster.so why do my senses feel slower?"
Greg lunged again, his right leg slicing through the air in a brutal kick.
The Commander dodged.
"Got you."
But before he could counter, Greg's other leg slammed into his chest with brutal precision.
The impact pushed him to the ground like abag of rice.
The spectators gasped even louder, as they saw their invincible leader— laying on the ground.
"Commander!" the bald man barked, genuine concern in his voice.
"Stay away!"I told you—I'll deal with him myself." the Commander roared, unease tightening his tone. He forced himself back to his feet, eyes blazing.
He pressed his ring.
The system screen shimmered to life.
"This is my last batch of points from that journalist."
"How many people had he killed to gather those points?"Jamie's blood ran cold.
"You have a lot of blue points," Greg said, masking the exhaustion creeping into his body. The strain of Overhaul was beginning to show.
"Yes,I killed three for these."
The system screen vanished.
The Commander's smile twisted into something darker.
"And I'll gladly send you to meet them." Greg insulted going back into a fighting pose.
"Like to see you try."
Once again they rushed head first unto each other.
Slam!!!
Their fists collided with overwhelming power.
A soldier and a martial artist.
Blow after blow, strike after strike.
To untrained eyes, they moved faster than sight itself—nothing but blurs of motion, flashes of blood, and the dull thuds of impact.
To Jamie, it was chaos.
Greg's strikes landed.
But the Commander was adapting quickly just like the first time—absorbing the rhythm, adjusting his movements, evolving with every exchange.
Soon his counters became sharper, both cleaner and deadlier.
Greg's advantage was slipping.
" shoot,he adapts too quickly…"
Frustration crept into Greg's focus. He tried to create distance, but the Commander's boot slammed into his ribs, forcing the air from his lungs and pushed him into the ground.
Jamie's heart sank deep, he felt bad for his him as if he was the one who got punched.
"I've finally figured you out."
His hammer materialized in his hand, gleaming under the dim light as he swung it lazily.
"The skill increases your stats,but at a cost, you drain another stat. That's why your speed and endurance dropped.I've got you figured out, haven't"
his voice dripped with triumph as he rested the hammer against his shoulder.
Greg didn't answer, he didn't need to.
The grim tension in his face said everything.
The minions saw it it too, some of them grinned others laughed.
Jamie's eyes blurred with tears.
"Stand up, Greg! you can steal fight " he screamed, his voice cracking.
One of the minions kicked Jamie into his ribs.
"Shut up and watch your friend die."
Greg staggered upright, his spear glowing faintly in his grip.
He pressed his ring.
[Skill Cooldown: 20 Minutes]
His jaw tightened ,the truth hitting him hard like a hummer.
Without Overhaul,he was finished.
Against the Commander's raw stats, there was no chance he could survive.
That is the brutal truth about this world, numbers determined who wins or losses.
He glanced toward Jamie, at the boy sobbing through swollen, bloodshot eyes.
"You're a good person jamie. Stay like that for me okay" he said softly as he wore a smile on his face that masked the death that would soon be delivered to him through the commander.
Jamie's heart shattered into tiny pieces, tear pulling up in his eyes.
As he stood powerless watching his last light was fade infront of him.
Suddenly
Thud!!! Thud!!
Greg charged anyway, his eyes filled with unbroken determination, the spear leading the way for his full assault with only one thought in his mind.
"Am not going down without a fight!"
Until
One flick of the Commander's wrist knocked the spear aside.
He punched greg in the gut again, then another followed,then another.
Without Overhaul, Greg couldn't keep up.
Each hit painted him redder—his own blood soaking his clothes, dripping steadily from his lips.
Then the final blow came.
The Commander lifted his hammer then crashed it into gregs face with brutal force like he was trying to break down a house.
The impact launched Greg's body across the battlefield.
He tore through the fence behind him with a violent crash before hitting the ground.
His body no longer moved or showed any sings of life. It lay twisted, blood pooled beneath him, spreading slowly across the ground.
There was no doubt about it, the Commander had just killed the only person that was atleast a competitor to him.
Greg... was dead.
For a moment, the world itself seemed to stop.
Jamie had believed Greg would survive, he believed he would win the fight.
But this world is different, it feeds on the hopes of people.
Here—
evil walks free.
The minions erupted into cheers, drunk on their victory.
They celebrated for some seconds until they remembered something vital.
The fight wasn't over yet, the base wasn't theirs.
Because one obstacle still stood in their way.
Jamie.!!