Dru's Place

"NOOOOO—"

The screen's sound system blasted out an agonising shriek as it shows a man's body getting ripped in half by winged demons—I think. Dru's Drop is particularly loud tonight, many regular customers gather up here before the tournament. The heat was turning up inside, smokes and smells of cheap liquor filled the ceiling. It's a usual tradition for them.

"Damn, cuzz! That's nasty!"

Some laughed, some sneered at the showtape of past tournaments. Most of it being people losing their lives in terrible situations. But none of it mattered to me. I'm here tonight for my job, not for leisure.

My name is Caine, just Caine. No last name. That's how usually it is down here in Zoan.

The world's basically split into two. Shogukan is the place uptop, residences of nobles and rich mercenaries. All of us dreamt of going up and living among them. And there is Zoan, our place. Down here, you live not knowing what will happen today or tomorrow. The streets are controlled by groups of rogues. I lived just beyond Maine's street, Jago's place.

A cup flung towards my head, I instinctively evaded. As I woke up from daydreaming, I see some customers around a table looking at me strange.

"What are you staring at, boy!? Come here!" The guy in black vest called me out, I followed. Just landed a job as a waiter here in Dru's Drop. The restaurant, usually the location of hangouts of big-shot names of Zoan. From my location, I see Cordoba at the corner, the most promising candidate of the tournament. Around a round table with him is Lucy, Gaia and Shmick, his party members. All truly strong people.

They boasted for a few months now about how they're gonna win the tournament and bust their lives out of this place. That is the dream, people say. But it is yet to be proven achievable by Zoan residence here. 11 tournament has been held, none of Zoan contestants passed.

"I'm telling you! It gets worse from Volcanic Den, none of your past gears work and the flocks spawned twice as much!" mumbled a guy in spectacles from a table to Cordoba. I wiped down a table a few feet from them, trying not to eavesdrop—but Zoan doesn't let you choose what you hear. He flung his walking stick around, trying to get Cordoba's attention.

"Finn dude, we've all seen the tape. The monsters didn't get harder pass that place—," Cordoba leaned towards the guy. "—You guys just sucks ass." The guy frowned.

"Baby~" Lucy purred. she had on a bright, but tattered red gown. Her eyed widened, lips curling into a perfect 'O' as her gloved hand flew to her mouth. "I can't believe you left poor Sasha behind. Even if you two are separate parties~ ah~ how could you~?"

Finn froze. The screen's sound catches his attention. He could see his past self running through a forest with bright red trees, face widened in terror and sweating buckets.

"No..."

Finn ran and ran, away from the linear path to the final stage. In a separate screen, a few people are torn apart by purple-coloured wolves. Limbs and blood splattered everywhere. A particular girl came to everyone's attention.

Sasha, a white haired mage at the back. Her hair contrasted with the red surroundings, making her a natural target. She turned around to look for help. But everyone is gone. She's alone to face the horror. as hope disappeared from her eyes, she let go of her wand. The wolves surrounded her. In a circle they tore her body apart with their fangs, mixing flesh and blood to the mix.

I looked away. Not out of fear—but knowing it wouldn't do me any good either way. The screens went red all over. Such clips are rarely shown in public. Guess this is a safe zone.

"Caine!" I turned and saw a familiar face.

Pascal, a redhead in leather suit. A smile crept up my face. Maybe It wasn't a complete displeasure working tonight.

"Fancy seeing you here. Doing research too?" I came over and see his table scattered with notebooks and drawn maps, some people chose to do their studies of Azkane's danger correctly rather than shouting 'hell, I'd survive that!' at the screen.

He smirked. "Couldn't focus at home. Too quiet. Smelly armpits keeps me up from sleeping anyway." His words made me realise the rising smell of the place, I waved it out of my nose.

I take a glance at the notebook he's writing. Scribbles of the enemies in Azkane, locations of important loots, plus hidden pathway to the center.

"Some people took way too attention to the enemies until they forgot the real killer here." Pascal swiped the pages, showing me a rough sketches of a pathway. "Right after this point, the next town is 20 fields away. Without the right amount of preparation, There's no way anyone can push through without fatigue kicking in."

Pascal point it out "Look here, if you were to walk straight to the center without stopping, Weiner's Guide say it would take roughly 50 days. Without. Stopping. Most of the time is consumed from staying at accomodation for too long, not too mention straying away for the linear pathway just to score some extra potions..."

He turned the pages again. "Overpreparation. Some people failed to reach the end because they took too long at certain locations. Time, consumed from gathering materials and crafting, knowing the gear could only get any better if they move on to the next area, Caine!"

"Your point being...?"

His finger lifted toward my face, "Strategy, my friend. The plan is to strategically divide the time needed at every checkpoint, gathering only needed materials but not too much because it will eventually be useless anyway compared to the ones ahead." his eyes locked at mine, I bite my tongue trying to break away from his gaze. "...and patterns, Caine. The enemies all react the same way. Know the enemies and yourself; you do not need to fear the result, of a hundred battles."

Dru's Drop went silent as Pascal's speech stopped. For a moment, the smell, the noise, the rusty aftertaste in my tongue was gone. Thoughts came scrambling my mind. If someone were to pass the tournament, it's him.

But then, I prefer not finding out.

Pascal glances at the bar near us. "Is Dru's okay with you sitting here with me."

"Nah, It's fine. He's not here today. His twin brother took his place."

"Oh, I see. what was his name again? G-"

"Shaun."

"Ah, right."

I stood up. "Nice to know someone's carefully prepared for the doom." I glanced at the clock. 11 pm.

"You're sticking around for a while? My shift ends at 12."

"Umm, probably. You wanna... go do something?" Pascal takes a look at his bronze watch.

"Yeah, if you want to. Dawn's noodles doesn't taste good before midnight. Better than any food here..."

Pascal let out a bright laugh. "Haha, O-okay then. I'll finish up my drawings."

Time went on. Few minutes passed. I went to the back and grabbed my coat. I tapped Pascal by the shoulder before leaving.

"Sorry, Cal. I got something to do."

"What's wrong."

"Windy. She's not home."

5 DAYS BEFORE THE TOURNAMENT