He didn't need to be a doctor to know that his knee was shattered. Shot in the kneecap where the bullet went clean through, tearing flesh and bone. It was sudden and quick, too quick for Stellan to even attempt to dodge. Since he didn't even know where the bullet had come from.

  He screamed, cursed, and cried out. The pain was overwhelming. He was already miserable with the wounds from the wild gunshots during the chase earlier. But this kind of pain was enough to push him toward insanity, as the feeling of his knee being disintegrated was too much for him to comprehend or explain.

  Terry's true identity was now in full sight. The revolver which he'd used to shoot Stellan's leg was hovering above Stellan without him noticing, manipulated by invisible mana. Before floating smoothly toward Terry's outstretched hands, who was smiling widely despite his earlier companion's painful screams. He then slowly waltzed toward the curled Stellan, who was clutching desperately at his ruined knee. But try as he might, his knee was already beyond use, blood and shattered bone gushing from the pierced hole of the bullet's path. Squirming from the excruciating pain, rolling left and right on the dusty floor.

  "You know, I really liked you… You weren't like those spoiled rich brats who flaunted their daddy's money everywhere," Terry stated casually, walking toward Stellan who was still writhing from the pain. "No, you were a hard worker," he added.

  "FUCK YOU!" Stellan cursed through gritted teeth. He wouldn't even be able to speak right now if it wasn't for the pill he'd consumed earlier. Although it helped little with the overwhelming pain he was experiencing.

  "It kinda makes me feel bad for myself… Here is this rich kid who was given everything he ever wanted, but for some odd reason, he worked twice as hard as me…" Terry mocked, approaching a few more steps closer to the suffering Stellan. "Someone who drinks and fucks around all day," he proudly claimed, gesturing to himself.

  "It was… you…" Stellan stuttered from the pain. He was enraged, the feeling of betrayal and agony was enough to induce a maddening trance. But the fact remained: he had nowhere else to go. And he was completely at the whims of the one who'd shot him, who was now looming over him.

  "You're the reason for all this…" he gasped out.

  It took little time for Stellan to process what the purpose of it all had been. Filing the blanks which he usually did during work hours, his analytical mind still functioning. Gritting his teeth hard from the pain.

  "Still smart despite a blasted kneecap. That's impressive…" Terry said, crouching beside Stellan who was still squirming helplessly.

  "You used me as bait… made those guys enter this hellhole… Just for you to kill them," Stellan said.

  "Don't flatter yourself… I've been doing the same shtick since before you were here," Terry said, waving his hand dismissively. "It's just that now… I had someone to 'accelerate' the process, so to speak," he added.

  "You used me… You fucker," Stellan cursed, eyes burning and body squirming from the mind-shattering pain.

  "Well, I did like the rations you kindly shared. It's been a while since I've eaten anything that didn't consist of tooth or skin," Terry stated, smiling ear to ear while he tapped the revolver he'd used to shoot with on Stellan's forehead. The barrel was steaming warm against skin.

  "You son of a bitch," Stellan cursed in return.

  "You see these rings I collected?" Terry expressed, showing the lines of rings he'd just added to his fingers from the corpses, appearing simultaneously one after the other, taking more space where his skin should be.

  But Stellan couldn't focus on them, his eyes were occupied by pain. "I think… a hundred of these… yeah, I think that number is right… each one holds the inventory of every poor sap I killed," Terry explained. "The sad part is you can't actually see them right now even if you wore them. You need to report back home and collect them yourself," he added.

  "Oh, and the cat? I didn't give two shits about her," Terry continued, voice turning cruel. "I had to make her fat because I couldn't be bothered to feed her regularly… Though I did like your expression earlier. It was very warm… Very youl," he added, mocking the earlier discussion he and Stellan had shared.

  "You'll get your time you sick fuck…" Stellan cursed again. But his breathing was lessening to an alarming degree. He'd lost too much blood. While the pain kept him conscious, although he wasn't sure for how much longer.

  "Oh, I'm sure I will… It's the natural cycle of things," Terry stated philosophically. "But you won't be here to see that," he added, ridiculing Stellan again.

  This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

  "But since I'm about to kill you, I'll tell you how the trial works… I can't leave an old friend hanging," Terry said.

  "Save your fucking breath…" Stellan gasped out.

  "No… No… I'm doing this because I'm the reason why you're here in the first place. Can't let you die without even knowing the basics… I owe it to you," Terry said. He then stood up, tempted to shoot Stellan right then to end it all. But he reconsidered, wanting to draw it out, relishing the amusement from the conversation.

  "Where should I start… So the trial, yes…" Terry began, striding to the sides. "Previously, I think they called it 'The Culling.' Because, you know… a lot of people die joining," he explained, voice casual as he taunted. Circling around Stellan who had no strength left to squirm anymore.

  "So some of the brass renamed it as the 'Grand Royale.' A bit friendlier, sure, and they were very good at spreading the name through marketing. I was even encouraged to join just because of the change," Terry continued. He then paused to think, tapping the revolver barrel thoughtfully against his chin.

  "There used to be… I think two hundred candidates at its peak at the time? It's strictly for those in the yellow grade and below, higher grades weren't allowed to join because that would be… unfair," he said.

  "So… I joined, and at first it was hard, because my skill sets weren't really for 'fighting,'" Terry gestured with his fingers. "But the idiots… the idiots meaning the other candidates, were more than happy to kill each other," he said. "While I bided my time here, killing other idiots who thought otherwise."

  "It was easy, honestly. Most of the time I didn't even need to use mana," Terry boasted. "I just had to let them kill themselves, either by starving or bleeding out from wounds. It doesn't matter, the end result is just the same," he remarked, snarling down at Stellan who was now fighting unconsciousness.

  "And now… I have five of the map fragments. Basically, I'm the closest to being the winner," Terry declared. "But the fact of the matter is, there can only be one winner," he added.

  Terry then stopped his pacing and glanced down at Stellan, whose pale expression still fought against the darkness.

  "You know what that means?" Terry crouched low, inching his face toward Stellan's.

  "You never intended for me to live," Stellan whispered, voice fading and out of breath.

  "Exactly!" Terry exclaimed, snapping his fingers. "Not that it was in the trial's rules, but I didn't want to risk anyone knowing the location of the reward," he answered.

  He then stood up abruptly, looking down on Stellan who was now at the brink of fading.

  "Nor do I want to share," Terry added, with a menacing tone.

  "Figures. You never paid the tab whenever we were drinking," Stellan could barely add any volume to his voice. Ridiculing Terry which wasn't appreciated.

  Terry's smile faltered. He wanted to pull the trigger then and there. But he wanted to savor the shot, to draw it out, so he mocked Stellan further. Crouching beside him where Stellan's muddled eyes could see Terry's entirety.

  "Oh Stellan. By the time I complete the trial, I could buy fifty bars without batting an eye," Terry bragged.

  "But it's sad truly… that you won't be alive to share drinks with me," Terry stated in a sarcastic tone. Standing up and patting his sleeves clean, leaving the dust to fall on Stellan's pale face.

  "Any last words? You know… despite all this… I still respected you as a colleague," Terry said. "I'll make sure to tell your parents that you died from overdosing on shrooms. Those shitty shrooms that you gifted me once, made me see shit for like a week," he added.

  "Come on… Don't be shy… Do you have anyone you fancy? I'll fuck them in your place, you know… I'm more well-versed in that than you," Terry added, basking in delight with Stellan's dying figure.

  Stellan could barely see now. His vision darkened at the edges and the pain was dampened. But his anger was still remaining, almost fueling him in resistance. He wanted to escape. He believed he still had enough strength if not for his knee being shattered to pieces. The revolver that Terry had given him was only one reach away, he just needed to stretch his arm. But it would be too late, he knew. Since he was certain that Terry would be able to pull the trigger before him. So he accepted his fate reluctantly, smiling bitterly in his last moments. Waiting for the shot to be fired, before cursing Terry once more.

  "Rot in hell," Stellan cursed.

  "Really? Nothing? Are you sure?" Terry asked.

  "I'll be waiting for you there, you piece of shit," Stellan promised.

  "Well… that's disappointing," Terry said, shaking his head.

  "Anyways, I give my thanks for the short time that we shared," Terry said, looking down on Stellan who was fading. Aiming the revolver at his temple, same as what he'd done to the execution earlier. But this time he was smiling widely, savoring the moment before he pulled the trigger.

  "If you ever meet the people who I sent in advance to the shithole you're going to," Terry said, flicking the safety off the revolver with his thumb. Before making the final decision, "Tell them it's nothing personal…" he added.

  But Stellan refused to be forgotten, using his last strength just before the curtain call.

  "Fuck you," he spat out.

  Disgruntled by the last words he would ever hear from Stellan's lips, Terry tilted his head like a curious dog. Straightening his arm to a direct aim, too close for any hopes of a misfire.

  "Those are the best you can come up with? Really? I guess we'll just make do…" Terry commented, ending the conversation, which served as the indication for pulling the trigger.

  A deafening gunshot erupted, even more vile than the last. Piercing through Stellan's skull in quick fashion.