You’re Telling Me This Is a Slice-of-Life?

Bang! Bang! Bang!

The dull gunshots echoed through the hallway, making Yuuki’s pupils contract.

Just a moment ago, he had thought Li Dan was about to kill him. Firing continuously at this range without fear of hitting him by mistake? But he quickly realized the man was in complete control.

The last two ghouls in front of him had their skulls blown apart instantly. He could even hear the sharp whistle of bullets cutting past his ears.

The bullets were almost like they had eyes, precisely blasting apart the ghoul gripping Sakurajima Mai’s legs, allowing her to stumble forward. Meanwhile, the incoming horde in the corridor stalled as the heads of the lead ghouls exploded one after another.

[A shooting skill? Even an Olympic champion couldn’t be this fast or this accurate.]

The thought flashed through his mind, but he had no time to dwell on it. He grabbed Sakurajima Mai and pulled her toward the stairs with all his strength.

“Thanks, Brother Li!”

“Save it. Get upstairs and rest.”

Li Dan wanted to ask how these three new players had even made it here. Even as a veteran player, he found it hard to believe.

But the tide of ghouls surging forward cut off his thoughts. Even his rapid-fire couldn’t hold them back.

“Thomas! Get your ass over here unless you wanna die with us!” He shouted, veins bulging on his forehead.

“Tch, what a pain. Fine, but you owe me one.”

The band guy’s logic was enough to make people laugh in frustration, but his movements were fast. A blur shot down the stairs, and the massive sword in his hands let out a low, menacing whirr.

Vrrr—

With a swing of his arm, the chainsaw sword sliced through the floor like tofu, carving a massive hole right in the middle of the building. The charging ghoul horde immediately plummeted into the lower level.

And he wasn’t done yet. He retreated toward the rooftop while swinging his sword in broad arcs, slicing through the stairway in just a few strokes. The entire staircase was now destroyed—leaving a ten-meter drop between the fifth floor and the rooftop. Even if the ghouls tried to build a ladder with their bodies, it would take them a while.

So this is the strength of a veteran player?

Yuuki had already made it to the rooftop but, unlike the two girls lying on the ground exhausted, he leaned over the edge and peered downward. In just a glance, he could see the sheer gap in strength between them.

Effortless mastery. If that guy wanted to clear the entire hallway of ghouls, it wouldn’t even be difficult. That chainsaw sword was leagues ahead of his own mutated blade, and even their physical abilities weren’t on the same level.

[The difference between new and veteran players is this big? Ordinary Lickers wouldn’t even be a threat. Even if they were empowered by moonlight, they’d still be crushed by these guys.]

Glancing at the motionless Sakurajima Mai and Hayasaka Ai—who looked like corpses aside from their heaving chests—Yuuki finally understood what the game’s hints had meant. If it was just about killing, veteran players would barely be in danger. Even if it made survival for new players nearly impossible… could they really expect fairness in a death game?

[If you want to live in this game, you have to fight for it. If I hadn’t fought with everything I had in the last two encounters, I’d still be an ordinary person. I wouldn’t have made it here. Hell, I wouldn’t even have been worth Li Dan stepping in—they would’ve destroyed the staircase before I arrived.]

Yuuki exhaled sharply. He never had any illusions about being a good person. In this game, every player was weighed by their value—Sakurajima Mai was no exception, and neither was he.

Bang.

The steel hatch leading to the rooftop slammed shut, and Thomas dragged over a few heavy crates to weigh it down. Only when he was certain the ghouls below couldn’t push through did he sweep his sharp gaze around, finally settling on Yuuki.

“You actually made it here alive? Huh—your blade mutated?”

“Yeah. After killing a Licker, I got a gift from the Blood Moon.” Yuuki tightened his grip on his sword, his face still marked by lingering fear. Before the other man could respond, he continued on his own:

“That monster was terrifying. It killed the university student with us. The three of us set a trap—used a suspended piano to crush it, then cut off its head.”

“Bullshit! That thing wouldn’t get pinned—it would’ve disappeared into the moonlight!” Thomas immediately cut him off, his face twisted in a snarl. “Tell the truth, or I’ll throw you down to feed the dead.”

“I swear! At first, all I could do was run. But while running, I noticed that in dimly lit areas, it moved through moonlight more slowly. So I ran into the basement—had no other choice.”

Yuuki’s voice trembled slightly. He wasn’t really lying. He had, in fact, killed the Licker, though in direct combat.

Thomas’ eyes narrowed suspiciously. As a veteran player, he had noticed that pattern as well. But was Yuuki just lucky, or was he actually perceptive?

He didn’t know. But one thing was clear—this bastard had deceived them earlier. Someone who could fight his way from the first floor to the rooftop wasn’t just some clueless rookie.

“You saying you just happened to tap into your potential?”

“What else? You expect me to just lie down and die?” Yuuki looked completely innocent. “It’s like a battlefield—those who stop fearing death are the ones Lady Luck favors. Back there, I felt like I went crazy—no, like I saw red. That’s just how adrenaline works, right?”

His words started becoming erratic, his body shivering as if he were freezing. Covered in tattered clothes, he really did look like someone who had just survived a desperate struggle.

When people are pushed to the brink, they can unleash terrifying strength. Veteran players knew this better than anyone—because that’s how they had survived.

But even desperation had its limits. And looking at Yuuki now, he was strong—but not to an alarming degree.

Damn, this guy can act. Just now, he wasn’t talking so much about luck.

Sakurajima Mai peeked at Yuuki, then quickly shut her eyes again. Her instincts told her that playing dead was the safest choice right now.

“Enough. Having a strong rookie benefits the whole team. They were already assigned to explore the underground. Their chances of uncovering the truth are better than ours.”

Li Dan stepped forward, blocking the tension between Yuuki and Thomas. With a friendly smile, he patted Yuuki’s shoulder.

“Sharp observation. In this game, being strong is good, but being smart is better. You saw the conditions, which gave you the chance to turn the fight around.”

He sounded like a seasoned mentor, offering guidance. If Yuuki analyzed it, Li Dan’s reasoning was simple—if a Licker could be trapped, even ordinary people had a shot at killing one. Desperation could create miracles.

“Tch. Just dumb luck. He happened to run underground.” Thomas scoffed and walked off, clearly annoyed.

Yuuki let out a long breath, looking like he had barely avoided disaster. With some effort, he tilted his head up. “Brother Li, I’ll remember that. Good thing I’ve always been observant.”

“And your swordsmanship isn’t bad either. No need to explain—everyone has their secrets. Just don’t keep them from real teammates.”

Between Li Dan and Thomas, Yuuki knew who felt more like an ally. He nodded seriously, almost looking a little embarrassed.

“Actually… I’m a semi-professional. Kendo second dan. Sorry I didn’t mention it before.”

“Second dan? No wonder your strikes were so fast and precise.” Li Dan nodded knowingly, then—like a magician—pulled out a few energy bars and a bottle of water.

Huh?

Yuuki sat up straight in an instant—this time, his surprise wasn’t an act.

“When you become a veteran player, you’ll get a storage space, but it’s really small. You’ll understand once you clear this dungeon.” Li Dan handed over some food and water, then after a moment of thought, took out a roll of bandages as well.

“Hm? Then why didn’t you bring some weapons? Like, I dunno, a rocket launcher or something?”

“That’s a long story. Just remember, don’t do anything extra. The Reincarnation Game is smart. Consider this a free tip from me.”

Oh, sure. You weren’t this generous a moment ago. You must’ve decided I’m valuable now, huh?

Yuuki accepted the supplies with endless gratitude—at least on the surface. He wasn’t stupid. As he handed some to Sakurajima Mai, the question slipped out before he could stop himself.

“You were worried we were veteran players?”

“Smart. But next time, don’t say it out loud. In this game, the scariest thing isn’t the monsters—it’s people.” Li Dan offered another piece of advice, a trace of fear flickering across his face. “In a past dungeon, one of the newbies was actually a veteran in disguise. I almost got killed by him. Sorry, but I had to test you guys too.”

So this goodwill isn’t free. It also helps reinforce his image as a ‘good guy,’ making him more trustworthy. Even Yuuki found himself feeling a little more at ease around him.

You’re the real deal, but I’m no rookie either.

Yuuki appreciated the kindness, but he wasn’t dumb enough to lay all his cards on the table. He just nodded seriously.

“Got it. I’ll remember.”

“Get some rest. This is just the beginning. We’ll regroup in five minutes to discuss our next steps—so make the most of the time to patch yourself up. To be honest, this dungeon is a bit too tricky… something feels off.” Li Dan frowned, looking genuinely troubled. Yuuki’s ears perked up.

“The game doesn’t have difficulty limits, right?”

“Even so, there should still be some kind of balance. Thomas and I are barely managing as it is, and for you newbies? It’s outright brutal.”

Brutal? What part of this hellscape is supposed to be ‘fair’ anyway?

At first, Yuuki found it ironic, but then he realized Li Dan had a point. If this game was purely designed to kill people, then there shouldn’t be any veteran players at all. The fact that there were meant that some kind of balance existed—perhaps the game was designed to let a portion of new players survive, guided by veterans like Li Dan and Thomas.

But if the red moon never sets, then even they won’t make it out alive.

No hints. No idea where the problem was. But one thing was certain—without the advantage he gained at the start, he’d already be dead. The difficulty was beyond ridiculous.

Wait… the advantage at the start?

Could it really be like Hayasaka Ai said—high risk, high reward? But a dungeon like this should encourage players to take risks, shouldn’t it? …Or was I really not supposed to kill that beginner guide?

“Quit overthinking it. Relax. We can still manage. Reincarnation Game has a pattern—once you figure it out, everything clicks into place.”

Li Dan clapped Yuuki on the shoulder before sighing and heading off to argue with Thomas about something.

Yuuki watched him go, deep in thought—until the sound of loud chewing snapped him out of it.

Turning his head, he saw Hayasaka Ai and Sakurajima Mai wolfing down their food, chugging half a bottle of water in one go.

All that grace, all that elegance? Completely gone. They’d probably never been this miserable in their lives.

[And neither had I.]

Yuuki glanced up at the blood-red moon, listening to the eerie, wailing cries of the undead in the distance. He looked down at the bottle in his hands.

Damn it.

I can’t even get the cap off.