THE EXAM BEGINS

“Hey, Meiroko!” Mirai’s voice cut through the tension. “We’re in the same team! Look at our numbers—9!”

“Seriously?!” Meiroko said, with a slight smile. “At least I don’t have to babysit.. someone noisy.”

“What’s your number Vir?”

“Um It’s 18. Seems like I have to search for my partner then. So then see ya Garp. Best of luck.”

I waved my hand and went on my own search for my teammate.

The sea of students moved like a restless tide, each person naturally gravitating toward their own number. I followed my instincts, weaving through the crowd, dodging shoulders and elbows.

I had the confidence to get along with anyone at my will. After all I was not bad at communicating. But then my confidence shattered as I saw her. She stopped mid-step, her gaze locking with mine. Above her head, glowing faintly, was the same number as mine: Team 27.

Her expression was a mix of disbelief and instant disdain. Her lip curled in that familiar way, and I could practically feel the heat of her annoyance from across the space.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she muttered, loud enough for me to hear.

I sighed, feeling extremely awkward. Of all people, it had to be Reddish.

"Um, hello?" I forced a smile, trying not to make things worse.

"Ugh, grrr..." Reddish gritted her teeth like some wild cat, her eyes already glaring daggers at me. Before I could react, she leaned in and grabbed my collar, pulling me close. "Listen, you disgusting pervert. You’re going to do exactly as I say. And if you try anything funny..." Her growl deepened, a low, feral sound. "Grr… Got that?"

"Yes, grr… I got it," I replied, feigning fear. Truth be told, her over-the-top aggression was more adorable than intimidating.

"Why you—" she started, but her tirade was cut off by Atma’s voice booming overhead.

"It seems like all of you have found your team members. Now then, on the count of three, your examination will begin.

"One.

"Two.

"Three."

I blinked.

When I opened my eyes again, the world around me had completely changed.

The air felt cool and crisp, carrying the faint scent of mud. The ground beneath my feet was soft, covered in a lush carpet of moss and wildflowers. I could hear the gentle rustling of leaves above me, a melody played by a hundred birds as they flew through the towering trees. Sunlight filtered through the dense canopy, dappling the forest floor with golden patches that seemed to pulse and shimmer like living things.

I was fortunate enough to feel this kind of feeling once before when I used some MT-chips previously. “I can’t believe they almost created the real thing.” I muttered, quite impressed by the creativity of my school.

“What are you blabbering about, pervert? Are you secretly scheming something?” Reddish’s sharp voice shattered the serenity.

I turned to see her standing close, arms crossed, her glare fixed on me. Despite her attempts to keep her focus on me, her gaze kept wandering, drawn to the beauty surrounding us. It was clear she was just as captivated by the scenery as anyone would be on their first encounter with such raw, untouched nature.

Before I could respond, a sudden sound chimed in the air—a soft ping—and something materialized before me. A translucent screen floated in my vision, its surface displaying five distinct bars.

HUNGER: 50
THIRST: 50
STAMINA: 100
FATIGUE: 0
HEALTH: 100

I instinctively reached out, but my hand running through it. “What now”

I instinctively reached out, my hand passing right through the floating screen. “What now?” I muttered.

“Looks like our stats,” Reddish snapped, her tone sharp as ever. “What’s the matter? Never played a game before?”

“Not much,” I replied, glancing at her screen. Her stats mirrored mine exactly. A smirk tugged at my lips. “I never pegged you for a gamer.”

“None of your business,” she shot back, her eyes narrowing.

I couldn’t resist poking a little more. “Hunger fifty? Thirst fifty? What are they trying to say? That we’re half-dead?” I asked, deliberately playing dumb to see if she’d loosen up.

“Ugh, not only are you a pervert, but you’re also an idiot,” she growled, her teeth almost visibly grinding. “It means we’re not starving yet, but if it hits a hundred, we’re in trouble. So, we better find food and water soon. Got it?”

“Yes, ma’am,” I replied, throwing in a mock salute.

Before she could fire back, another ping sounded, drawing our attention.

The screen shifted, revealing a leaderboard. Names of various teams scrolled by, neatly organized. Almost every score was flatlined at zero.

“Hmm… looks like some kind of leaderboard,” Reddish muttered, her fingers swiping experimentally. “You can even see the team members’ names here.”

“Well, look at that,” I said, flicking my own screen. The names scrolled easily, the numbers beside them all neatly at zero. “Everyone’s starting from scratch.”

“And this,” Reddish pointed to a small, ticking number at the top, “looks like a 12-hour countdown. It’s running backward.”

“You don’t have to spell everything out for me, you know. I can figure out that much.”

“Oh, sorry,” she shot back, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “I just assumed someone as idiotic as you might need help with the basics.”

With a sharp “Stats, close,” she dismissed the panel, the shimmering screen vanishing from view.

I followed suit, muttering, “Leaderboard, close.” The panel disappeared, leaving me with an odd sense of accomplishment.

Reddish sighed, catching my grin. “Ugh, what’s with the smile? Are you a kid?”

“Oh, right—food and water. Let’s go.”

As we began walking, Reddish spun around and pointed an accusing finger at me. “Four steps behind. I don’t want to breathe the same air as you.”

“Got it,” I said, amused, watching her march ahead like a general surveying her domain.

“Hey, so how do you think we earn points?” I asked, trying to spark a conversation.

“Hell if I know,” she snapped, her eyes scanning the vibrant forest ahead.

Well, that went nowhere. I sighed and let my gaze wander. That’s when something caught my attention. Hanging from a low branch nearby was a cluster of glossy fruits, their bright skin almost glowing in the dappled sunlight. A sweet, tangy scent drifted toward me, and my stomach growled.

A strange insect buzzed past, its wings catching the light like tiny, glimmering mirrors. I reached for the fruit but hesitated when I saw how high some of them dangled. The low-hanging ones would barely last us a few bites.

“Hey, those look edible,” I called out.

Reddish turned, eyeing the fruit skeptically. “You think so, genius?” She swatted a branch with her hand, causing one of the fruits to fall to the ground with a soft thud.

Cautiously, I picked it up, sniffed it, and took a tentative bite. The flavor burst onto my tongue—sweet, with just the right amount of tartness. A small ping echoed in my mind, and I noticed my hunger bar drop by a sliver.

“Guess it’s safe,” I said, tossing her one.

Reddish caught it with ease and bit into it. Her expression didn’t change, but she kept eating, so I took that as approval.

Higher up, more fruit swayed temptingly. “We need those,” I said, eyeing the taller branches.

“And how exactly do you plan to get them? Fly?”

I scanned the area and spotted a long stick lying on the forest floor. Picking it up, I tested its weight and gave a few experimental swings. Perfect.

“Stand back,” I said, aiming the stick at a cluster of fruit.

“You’re not serious,” Reddish muttered, folding her arms.

With a quick motion, I swung upward, the stick hooking a branch. A few fruits dropped, hitting the ground with satisfying thumps.

“Not bad,” she admitted grudgingly, grabbing one of the fallen fruits.

But there were still more, tantalizingly out of reach. Reddish, clearly annoyed, grabbed a rock and hurled it upward. It struck the branch, dislodging even more fruit.

“Impressive,” I said, genuinely surprised.

“Shut up,” she snapped, but there was a faint smirk on her face as she pocketed another fruit.

Between the stick and her rock-throwing skills, we managed to gather a decent pile. As we ate, our hunger bars steadily decreased, and the world around us seemed a little less daunting.

Just as we were finishing up the last of the fruit, a sharp ping sounded, followed by a glowing notification hovering in the air.

“Uh… what’s this now?” I muttered, tapping the floating icon.

Reddish raised an eyebrow but opened hers as well. The text materialized in bold letters:

“You have acquired 5 points for obtaining a cluster of fruits.”

“Five points? For picking fruit?” I said aloud, blinking in surprise.

“Wait, there’s more,” Reddish interrupted, her voice sharper now. Another notification popped up beneath the first.

“Mr. Henry, the P.E. teacher, is impressed by your resourcefulness: stick usage and stone-throwing techniques. You have received an additional 5 points.”

My eyes widened, and I couldn’t help but grin. “Looks like someone appreciates my genius.”

She rolled her eyes but seemed more focused on the implications. “So, they’re watching us. That’s how this works.”

“Looks like we’re being judged for everything we do.”

“Not just judged,” she said, narrowing her eyes at the notification. “Rewarded. The teachers are giving out points for creativity, problem-solving and who-knows-what.”

“That means it’s not just about survival—it’s about impressing the teachers.”

CHAPTER 23 END