Scott navigated through the quiet yet striking terrain, his steps pushing him onward. He continued to pillage the region for resources, regularly plucking herbs, plants, and vibrant flowers, storing them neatly in his inventory. His gaze flickered between the lingering system panel and the beacon guiding his path as he moved forward in silence.

I've been walking for over three hours now, and I've yet to encounter another champion. Am I really in a special active zone?

Scott dismissed the thought with a shake of his head.

That doesn't matter right now, he mused, focusing instead on the cool off timer.

I should be more worried that I haven't reached the end of the active zone—and there's only twenty minutes left. I didn't expect this place to be this enormous.

In the first hour, he explored at a leisurely pace. For the second, he ran at a blistering speed, hoping to clear the zone with several hours to spare. Yet, contrary to his expectations, all that greeted him were endless groves of cherry blossom trees and foreign, albeit exquisite, flora.

By the third hour, Scott returned to a more measured pace.

"System, how many people have made it to the 8th Zone?"

A soft chime preceded the appearance of a notification.

Current number of trialists in the 8th Zone: 396,874!

Scott nodded gently. As expected, it's increased again.

"System, how many are in the active zones?"

Another notification popped up.

Current number of trialists in Active Zones: 147,000!

Scott wasted no time with his next query. "And in the shared silent zones?"

Current number of trialists in Silent Zones (Shared): 85,019!

He paused, eyes darting between the three notifications and the dwindling timer.

It's a shame the system doesn't reveal anything about the breakdown of the zones. I can't even tell how many champions are in each region of the Garden.

His gaze settled on the timer again.

Only twenty-three minutes left…

Scott turned his attention forward, eyes narrowing into the distance.

How come others reached the silent zones faster than me? This place must be far larger than I anticipated.

He started moving again but then paused—his thoughts drifting.

Could someone have reached the final zone already?

His frown deepened, unable to shake the nagging thought.

Unable to resist, Scott voiced another command. "System, has anyone reached the final zone?"

The answer came swiftly.

Current number of trialists in the Final Zone: 0!

Scott chuckled softly. Guess I was worried over nothing.

Though the idea of someone reaching the final zone of a 90-day trial within just hours was almost absurd, he needed confirmation. With his curiosity satisfied, he resumed walking. The cool off timer continued ticking down, but he no longer paid it much attention. Nor did he continue collecting herbs—he already had at least a dozen of each type in his inventory. For the first time in a while, there was nothing new in sight.

Seconds blurred into minutes as Scott pressed on. Only two minutes remained until the Skull Harvesters respawned, but his focus was locked onto the beacon ahead.

The scenery had changed. No longer surrounded by cherry blossoms and dazzling flowers, he now followed a path lined with lush, uninterrupted greenery.

For the first time, the skies revealed themselves above him. Not another dome. No Garden Servants watching from a false ceiling. Just open sky—vast and blue—with the sun reigning from its regal perch in the center.

Suddenly, the flickering beacon ahead vanished.

At that same moment, a new system message appeared.

Congratulations! You have reached the end of the first Active Zone! Do you wish to continue ahead? Yes! No!

Oh? This is the end?

Scott didn't select an option right away. Instead, he scanned his surroundings.

Nothing unusual… no visible or hidden barriers...

He stretched out his left arm, and a gelatinous yet invisible wall pushed back against his palm. Scott frowned.

It's right here in front of me, and I still couldn't see it.

He tapped it lightly with his index finger, watching ripples dance across its viscous surface like soft waves on water.

His eyes flicked to the cool off timer—less than two minutes remained.

Without further hesitation, he focused on the system prompt and selected [Yes!]

Contrary to his expectations, no new message appeared. Instead, a doorway shimmered into existence before him—ten feet tall, six feet wide. Its surface gleamed in the sunlight, polished to perfection, though it lacked any handle or lock. A mirror-like sheen reflected the world around it, concealing whatever lay beyond.

Scott approached the door in silence, his gaze sharp and wary.

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Without warning, it creaked open.

He froze, peering through the narrow gap.

That's completely different... he sighed, shaking his head. There's always something new waiting to surprise me.

He summoned a jacket from his inventory and slipped it on.

Without hesitation, he stepped through the opening. The door closed silently behind him.

Calamitous grey skies stretched endlessly overhead. Thunder roared, unleashing snaking bolts of lightning that illuminated the storm-torn world. Rain poured in relentless sheets, while howling winds clawed at everything, challenging the fury of the heavens themselves.

Drenched in the downpour, Scott stared at the notification that materialized in front of him.

You have arrived at the second Active Zone! This is the Thumpers Territory!

I knew it wasn't a shared silent zone, Scott thought with a sigh. But what the hell is a Thumper?

He dismissed the panel and surveyed his surroundings. The bamboo forest swayed violently under the storm's wrath, their towering stalks thrashing like possessed titans. Far in the distance, cyclones ripped the plants from their roots by the dozen.

Occasionally, lightning struck the ground with devastating force, obliterating everything in its path. Infernos briefly roared to life before the unyielding rain and wind smothered them out.

Scott sighed again. "System, is there a cooldown timer in effect for this zone?"

Another panel appeared promptly.

No!

He shook his head with a wry smile. Looks like no one's been doing much in the second zone.

He scanned the area, searching for any hint of champion activity. But the storm had long since wiped away all signs—if there were ever any to begin with.

I should start moving, he decided.

Just then, a flickering beacon shimmered into existence, pointing southward. Scott turned toward the arrowhead.

Immediately, his expression darkened. A monstrous cyclone was ravaging the bamboo forest in the distance—and the beacon pointed directly at it.

As Slim would say, nothing is ever straightforward in this place, he chuckled inwardly, remembering the musician. He found himself wondering how much the others had changed over the years.

Gathering his thoughts, Scott began moving. Unlike the previous zone, there was no clear path—just chaos. The raging winds drove the bamboo like battering rams, slamming them into the ground without warning.

I wonder what counts as the treasure here, he pondered.

The bamboo, though unnaturally tall, looked no different than the kind he remembered. Oddly, no other plant species seemed to exist here—only towering bamboo and grass covering the soaked, but firm earth.

He paused beside a swaying stalk. Could this be the treasure?

Skeptical, he approached cautiously. The closer he came, the more a strange wheezing filled his ears.

At arm's length, he reached out. His expression hardened the instant his fingers made contact.

What the...?

Instead of the familiar woody texture, a chilling current coursed through his skin. The surface was unnaturally smooth—like polished steel.

Scott tapped it lightly. No sound reached his ears, but the sensation confirmed it again: it felt like tapping on metal.

He stepped back, scanning the seemingly endless forest of reinforced stalks.

This place is a thousand times more dangerous than the last zone, he concluded.

One touch was enough to know—shattering even one of these would require serious force. Yet there were millions of them, scattered as far as the eye could see.

Just as he prepared to test its durability, instinct pulled him back. A bamboo stalk blurred past the space he'd just vacated, screaming through the air like it had been hurled by an invisible giant.

Scott tracked its path, the wheezing cry of its flight cutting through the storm.

Then—it struck.

The projectile slammed into another stalk with a metallic clang loud enough to rattle bones. The impact launched it sideways, bouncing between other bamboos before embedding into the ground.

Yet even then, it didn't stop. It thrashed wildly, as if furious at being trapped by the earth.

Scott turned his attention toward the direction the projectile had come from, narrowing his eyes. He saw nothing. No movement. No source.

Could the cyclone have flung it randomly? he wondered.

I need to be extra careful here.

He trusted his defenses, but this zone clearly played by different rules—and it wasn't done revealing its surprises.

After confirming his surroundings one last time, Scott resumed his march toward the flickering beacon.

Minutes passed as Scott ventured deeper into the endless bamboo forest.

The wet winds battered his form, but not strongly enough to knock him off course or send him flying like the scattered leaves caught in the storm.

A thick fog cloaked the land—yet another quirk of the zone, perhaps designed for maximum chaos. Yet, Scott's vision remained crystal clear

Stray bamboo stalks continued to shoot at him from various directions. Some came in rapid succession, even simultaneously, but none succeeded in hindering his progress—let alone causing harm.

Still, Scott remained on high alert. Even though the flying bamboo appeared to be the only threat so far, he didn't relax. He continued scanning his surroundings, expecting something worse to emerge at any moment.

Should I try using one of those flowers that protect against cold?

He considered it briefly but soon shook his head.

I shouldn't waste them on curiosity. Who knows when I'll really need them.

He kept moving, kept searching. But still, there was nothing—just more wet bamboo and storm-slicked earth.

Then the air trembled.

Distant explosions rang out—loud, rapid, and growing in intensity.

Scott paused, turning his head toward the right.

That definitely sounds like a battle… and a pretty intense one, he mused, narrowing his eyes.

Could it be the 'Thumpers' the system mentioned? Or maybe other champions?

Another explosion cracked through the forest. This time, a strange, steel-like chime followed the blast.

No point guessing. I need to see this for myself.

Wasting no time, Scott followed the direction of the sound, weaving between the bamboo stalks with measured steps.

Soon, he arrived at a new part of the forest—one where the bamboo dwarfed anything he'd seen so far. Each stalk was enormous, with a circumference of at least three meters. The raging winds barely moved them. The air here felt heavier—still charged, but oddly reverent.

Scott advanced quietly, senses tuned to the direction of the explosions.

Then, he saw them.

A dozen bulky humanoids, each bristling with cybernetic enhancements, had gathered around a single shimmering stalk of violet bamboo. This one was unlike the rest: cloud-like golden patterns danced along its smooth surface, pulsing with quiet power.

The humanoids unleashed a relentless barrage—missiles, gatling guns, even lasers—all hammering the unique stalk. But it was useless.

The violet bamboo absorbed or deflected every projectile with ease. Not a scratch marred its surface. Not a single leaf quivered in response.

So that's where the noise is coming from, Scott thought, observing from the shadows. These guys remind me of the Wutas from Carcosa… except those things didn't have flesh. These ones do.

His gaze drifted to the radiant stalk.

That has to be one of the treasures of this zone… but what exactly does it do?

He waited, hidden, watching.

The cybernetic attackers continued their assault, pouring every ounce of firepower into the unyielding bamboo. It was almost pitiful—desperation wrapped in thunder.

They don't stand a chance, Scott noted. If they don't use their trump card soon, someone else might snatch the reward from under them.

He smirked at the thought. Just as he prepared to move, something caught his eye.

One of the humanoids pulled a strange weapon from his inventory. The others immediately began retreating.

Scott narrowed his eyes.

That gun… it's dangerous.

Before he could dig deeper into the thought, the humanoid raised the weapon and pointed it at the bamboo.

A deafening hum erupted, reverberating through the air like the growl of some mechanical beast. Light particles began to swirl around the weapon's barrel, and the wielder's finger hovered over the trigger.

The other humanoids had already fallen back—clearly wanting no part in what came next.

The hum grew louder with each second. The gun trembled violently in the wielder's arms.

Scott, still at a safe distance, watched with growing anticipation.

That thing's nearly charged… this should be interesting.

But just as the moment approached—

Thump.

A deep, resonant impact echoed through the earth. Then another.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Like a sledgehammer slamming into stone, over and over.

Scott froze.

The cybernetic champion immediately powered down the weapon.

Without hesitation, he turned and fled. The others had already vanished.

Scott, on the other hand, didn't move.

He scanned the forest carefully, trying to pinpoint the source of the pounding. Yet, he saw nothing.

The thumps grew louder. Closer. He could feel them now—in his chest, in the ground, in his bones.

And then… he saw it.

His mouth opened slightly.

"You've got to be kidding me," he muttered. "How is a normal person supposed to survive that?"

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