A second later, William reappeared beside him, pale and shaken.

  "Holy shit."

  William swallowed hard, nodding slowly.

  "They’re dead."

  Nigel’s voice came out flat. He stepped forward, gripping the edges of the dumpsters and lifting the lids.

  Inside, the bodies were already disintegrated, leaving behind two Diamantines and some small boxes.

  He grabbed them quickly, prying open the containers.

  Nothing useful, just a few adrenaline elixirs.

  He moved to the second dumpster.

  Inside lay two more Diamantines… and a single, larger box.

  Nigel reached in, pulled it free, and flipped open the lid.

  Random supplies—scattered tools, spare rations. But nestled between them was something else.

  A photograph.

  Two men, one older, one younger. Smiling.

  A father and son.

  Nigel stared at it.

  The only reason there was one box instead of two… was because they had been sharing an inventory.

  His fingers tightened around the paper.

  He had just killed a family.

  A slow breath left his lips. His mind barely registered the noise of the city around him, the distant hum of machinery, the faint echoes of movement in the alleys beyond.

  Then—without hesitation—he tore the photo apart.

  Guilt wouldn’t slow him down.

  It was them or him.

  Without another word, he crushed both dumpsters with a single, powerful kick, the metal caving in with a hollow crunch. Then, turning back to William, he said:

  "We still need forty-five more."

  William hesitated, still unsettled. "Anything useful in the boxes?"

  "No. Let’s keep moving."

  Nigel didn’t mention what he had just seen. No point in burdening him.

  William hesitated, then fell into step beside him.

  "What time is it?" Nigel asked, his voice low, controlled.

  "Wait a second…" William fished a small device from his inventory, tapping its screen. "It’s seven in the evening."

  Nigel glanced up.

  The sky had darkened noticeably, a deepening twilight stretching over the city like a silent warning.

  Amelie’s words echoed in his mind—by midnight, things would get violent.

  So far, the Tournament had felt almost… structured. A controlled bloodbath. But it wasn’t called the Chaos Tournament for nothing.

  He had no idea what lay ahead, but one thing was certain—the city was immense.

  A thousand people had been teleported here, and yet, in seven hours, he had encountered only five. That meant most had landed in dense clusters, forced into immediate bloodshed.

  Then, suddenly—

  A booming voice rippled through the city, cutting through the silence like a blade.

  “Seven hours have passed since the Tournament began! It is time to commence our first event! In a few seconds, a message will appear before you with all the details. Good luck!”

  The voice faded.

  Silence returned.

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  William exhaled sharply. "Event… what exactly will it be?"

  Then—his eyes widened.

  "Oh… shit."

  Nigel’s frown deepened as he scanned the message. “Target? Predator? What’s he getting at?”

  Another notification flashed above William's wristband.

  Nigel’s gaze flicked toward him. “No way you’re actually trying to hunt me, right?”

  William paled. “No, no, of course not!” he stammered. Then, one last notification flashed above Nigel's wristband.

  The moment the message disappeared, an instinctive alarm shot through Nigel’s body. William felt it too.

  Without hesitation, they moved, shifting back-to-back, scanning their surroundings as the weight of the situation settled.

  They weren’t alone anymore. Their predators had already begun closing in.

  Less than thirty seconds.

  Nigel’s jaw tightened. "Looks like it’s going to be a rough one."

  William swallowed hard. "Get ready!"

  Nigel barely had time to react before one of the incoming participants rushed straight at him.

  He could feel William trembling behind him, his back pressed against Nigel’s—a sharp contrast to the deadly certainty in the steps of their enemies.

  He understood his fear. But just as Nigel prepared to counter—

  The attacker suddenly changed course.

  Instead of striking, the man leapt past them, tackling another participant to the ground and slashing his throat open in one swift motion.

  A clean kill.

  Nigel and William stood frozen as the body twitched once before going still.

  The killer exhaled, flicking his blade with a practiced motion, scattering droplets of blood onto the pavement. Then, without hesitation, he turned to face them.

  "He was my predator," the man said casually. "Bastard killed my teammate and chased me all over the city. He had it coming."

  Nigel’s gaze locked onto the stranger.

  He was tall, broad-shouldered, and built like a warrior. A man in his early thirties, his stance relaxed yet effortlessly commanding. His bright red hair was wild and unkempt, and a jagged white scar ran from his left eye down to his chin, carving a sharp contrast against his dark skin.

  More than anything, though, it was his aura that stood out.

  Then—the man’s eyes shifted toward William.

  "You," he said, pointing. "You're William Stoneswood, right?"

  William tensed, his breath catching in his throat.

  "Name’s Dovak Anir," the man continued. "I’m your predator."

  The moment the words left his lips, Nigel stepped in front of William, fingers tightening around the Reaper’s shaft.

  His muscles coiled, his entire body primed to strike.

  Dovak immediately raised his hands in surrender.

  "Whoa, whoa, easy there, man!" He sheathed his knife in one smooth motion. "Not everyone here is a bloodthirsty lunatic."

  He gestured toward the corpse behind him. "I just took out the guy who was hunting me. You saw that, right? I’m not out to kill for no reason."

  Nigel didn’t lower his guard. "Then what do you want?"

  Dovak grinned. "To team up."

  William blinked. "Team up?"

  "Yeah." Dovak crossed his arms. "I had three Diamantines before, but now that I killed that guy, I’ve got thirteen."

  Nigel didn’t answer immediately.

  His eyes narrowed, studying Dovak.

  The man was smooth, too easygoing—but was that just his personality, or was he hiding something?

  Then, a soft whisper brushed against his ear.

  "Nigel… he’s telling the truth," William muttered. "My ability lets me sense when someone’s lying. And he told us exactly how many Diamantines he has. If he had bad intentions, I don’t think he would have done that."

  Nigel remained silent for a few more seconds.

  Then, finally—he relaxed.

  "Fine."

  Dovak’s face split into a broad grin. "Good choice! Finding teammates in this mess isn’t easy."

  Nigel wasn’t convinced.

  "Before we go any further," Nigel said, his tone firm, "why did you think we’d make good allies?"

  Dovak chuckled, unfazed. "Easy. You two were standing back-to-back like partners, and when I showed up, you immediately moved to protect him. That gives strong good pal energy, dude!"

  Nigel exhaled through his nose. "Right…"

  He still didn’t fully trust either of them, but numbers meant survival.

  And survival was all that mattered.

  "So, how many do we have in total, partner?" Dovak asked, nudging Nigel with his elbow.

  Nigel remained vague. "We have Diamantines, but we’re still short."

  Dovak smirked. "Ahhh, you don’t trust me yet. Makes sense!"

  He let out a hearty laugh, then clapped Nigel on the back—really hard.

  "Don’t worry, I won’t slit your throat while you sleep!"

  "Wow, that really puts me at ease," Nigel deadpanned, stepping away from him.

  William, who had been watching the exchange quietly, kept his thoughts to himself.

  In the short time they had known each other, Nigel had already defended him more than anyone else ever had.

  For now, he would trust his judgment.