The Huntsman Of Death:A Gamer's POV As Side Character

No one dared to speak. Even Reed stayed quiet, his usual theatrics subdued.

"Dismissed," Emilia said curtly, walking off without another glance. Alex remained silent, his cold gaze lingering on us for a moment longer before he too turned and left.

I looked over at Reed, who was now lying face down on the ground like he'd just fought a war. "Think you're ready for this, oh mighty dragon?"

He groaned in response, and Roderick snorted. "If he doesn't die from exhaustion first, maybe he'll get eaten by a monster."

Ashton, ever the optimist, clapped me on the shoulder again. "This is a good opportunity. Don't overthink it."

I gave him a sideways look. "You say that now, but just wait until you're out there running for your life."

He laughed nervously, and I shook my head. Three days. That wasn't much time to prepare, but it'd have to be enough.

...

Emilia leaned against the table, her arms crossed as she eyed Alex. Her sharp gaze softened slightly, carrying a hint of curiosity. "You seem to be interested in Lukas."

Alex, seated in his usual composed posture, gave a faint hum. "Hmm. Because he might have potential."

Emilia's brows furrowed as she tilted her head. "Potential? You mean in wielding skills?"

Her voice was firm, but there was a flicker of intrigue. However, instead of answering, Alex reached into his coat, pulled out a cigar, and lit it without sparing her a glance. The flame from his lighter briefly illuminated the scar slicing across his left eye, a reminder of countless battles he had endured.

Emilia's lips tightened as she watched him take a drag, releasing a trail of smoke into the air. "I thought you quit smoking," she remarked with a raised brow.

"Occasionally isn't a problem," Alex replied nonchalantly, exhaling a cloud of smoke. He leaned back, his cold, sharp eyes locking onto her. "You seem anxious. What's eating you now?"

Rather than answering, Emilia handed him a folder, her expression unreadable.

Alex opened it, his movements deliberate, and began skimming through the contents. His brows furrowed slightly, though his cold demeanor didn't falter. Taking another drag from his cigar, he blew out a smoky trail, his eyes narrowing. "You're saying undead monsters have been spotted around the periphery."

Emilia nodded grimly. "And the decision to proceed with the Field Exploration or not has been handed over to us."

A heavy silence settled between them as Alex's gaze darkened. He tapped his fingers on the folder, the weight of his decision clear in his expression. Finally, he broke the silence with a curt, "We'll continue."

Emilia's eyes flickered with concern. "Things might get wild," she warned, her voice steady but tinged with unease.

Alex scoffed, his lips curling into a cold smirk. "So what?"

His voice dropped, edged with disdain as he continued. "Those who aren't fit enough to survive will die regardless. This isn't some sheltered house to coddle and spoon-feed kids. The higher they climb, the more dangerous the path becomes."

His eyes seemed to glint with a cruel light as he leaned forward slightly, his tone chillingly calm. "I enlisted in the military when I was eleven. By thirteen, I was fighting in wars. My entire battalion was annihilated, and I had to crawl back with a broken arm, running from enemies that wanted my head."

Emilia's expression faltered for a moment as she absorbed his words. Alex recounted his past with a miraculous calmness, as though recalling something mundane, like the weather. The contrast between his words and his detached tone made her stomach tighten.

With a flick of his wrist, Alex tossed the folder aside, the papers scattering across the table. "These kids," he said, his voice cold, "need to start tasting bitterness. The Academy's current training methods are a joke—bolstering egos instead of sharpening skills."

Emilia sighed, her frustration seeping through her carefully maintained poise. "It's not that easy, Alex. Most of these students are noble heirs. They're expected to carry on their family legacies, produce pure bloodlines, and ensure their lineages continue. That's why they're soft toward them."

Alex's gaze sharpened instantly, a sinister smile spreading across his lips. The intensity in his eyes was almost suffocating. "Tell them to give that excuse when those damned creatures and gods from the abyss come knocking on their doors," he said, his voice low and venomous.

His expression twisted into something cruel, and his words grew harsher. "And while you're at it, tell them not to cry when their precious children die later—because they raised cowards instead of frightening hunters."

The silence that followed his statement was heavy. Emilia's eyes lingered on him, her sharp demeanor softening briefly, though she said nothing. Alex, for his part, remained unmoved, exhaling another puff of smoke as though the conversation hadn't unsettled the very air in the room.

...

I scrolled through the old leather-bound diary, its worn edges showing the weight of time. The crafted details of every intricate strategy I'd once written stared back at me, inscribed in my home language script. Each line held the essence of my frustrations, my persistence, and my discoveries.

Back then, I had poured my frustrations into this manual, the Deathborne Victory Manual. It was my way of conquering defeat in games.

Every loss had driven me mad, but I had found solace in dissecting patterns and writing down insights.

Now, in this twisted reality, the manual was my anchor. The current world's language was surprisingly close to English—an oddity that caught me off guard when I first arrived. This manual, once a tool for games, now held a greater purpose.

The games back then were brilliant but limited, restricted by player input and design. They could've bloomed into something resembling reality if VR had existed. Alas, without it, they fell short.

But this? This was no game.

This world was real, raw, and unforgiving. Here, the paths and decisions were endless, their outcomes unpredictable. I skimmed the pages until I reached the upcoming events. My fingers paused over the next chapter—a crisis was brewing, one that would spiral out of control.

"It shouldn't have escalated this far," I muttered, my voice low. "If the instructors or the administration take immediate action, this could be mitigated. But with Alex in charge…" My words trailed off, my jaw tightening. Alex wouldn't intervene. He'd leave us to fend for ourselves. That was his way. Harsh, practical, and utterly ruthless.