Yan stood before the vortex.
The pale blue glow, so close that it almost brushed his skin, rose and fell like a living mirror, breathing with him.
Facing it so closely, he hesitated for a moment.
Maybe going in would be pointless;
maybe he would only drag Mouse and the others down;
maybe…
There were a thousand maybes in the world, yet what flashed through his mind was the nervous smile of Mausen's mother—and that steaming bowl of dumplings.
If Mausen really hadn't made it out… what would that mother do?
"Idiot."
Yan muttered under his breath, then removed his blue-and-white school jacket and tied it tightly around his waist.
The black short-sleeved shirt beneath fluttered lightly in the wind, the faint lines of muscle shifting beneath the fabric.
The autumn wind was cold, but it couldn't extinguish the heat surging in a youth's chest.
He reached behind his waist and pulled out a small baton.
With a flick of his wrist, a metallic click rang out. A folded steel rod snapped into shape, glinting under the sunlight.
Everyone knew—carrying a baton as a student was perfectly reasonable.
Then he took a deep breath and stepped directly into the vortex.
——————
There was almost no sensation.
It felt like passing through an impossibly thin sheet of water. The next moment, his feet touched solid ground again.
The surroundings were unnervingly quiet.
Towering trees rose like giant pillars, easily more than twenty meters tall. Branches interlocked overhead, scattering the sunlight into drifting specks of dust across the forest floor.
The air was humid, carrying an indescribable sweetness.
Yan frowned slightly and rolled his shoulders.
Nothing felt particularly wrong.
He scanned the area.
Dense shadows of trees stretched endlessly in every direction. The environment resembled the tropical rainforests described in books.
But he remembered clearly—such untouched forests no longer existed in the modern world.
He exhaled softly, forcing distracting thoughts down. He reminded himself repeatedly—he was only here to find people.
Baton in hand, he pushed aside dead branches and tangled vines as he moved cautiously forward.
But after only a short walk, a strange wave of heat seeped into his skin, flowing inward. It felt like standing under a scorching sun in black clothes—the warmth sinking deeper and deeper.
Yan knitted his brows.
But he didn't pay much attention, assuming it was just climate difference.
To be safe, he paused and checked himself carefully before continuing deeper into the forest.
Ten minutes passed, yet he still hadn't seen anyone. All he saw were scenes untouched by humanity.
Logically, if the students were still alive, they shouldn't have gone far. Even if they had, they would've left traces—footprints, marks, something.
"Could this thing… drop people at random spots?" he murmured.
Wind rustled through the leaves, a soft whisper that somehow felt like something was missing.
Yan did not panic.
In a place like this, losing one's calm was effectively signing a death sentence.
He walked and observed simultaneously. The farther he went, the more everything felt strangely familiar—same trees, same stones, same branches.
"A loop?"
Gritting his teeth, he changed direction, walking back the way he came. Yet after a long while, the blue vortex was still nowhere to be seen.
He might… not be able to go back.
No.
Something was very wrong.
Ever since he saw the vortex, a strange impulse had been pushing him forward. And now, even though he had entered, he still hadn't seen a single person.
It was far too quiet.
Wait—
Quiet?
He suddenly realized the problem.
This forest was silent. No insects, no birds—something impossible for any rainforest.
As the realization hit, a chill raced down his spine. Sweat slid down his back, soaking into the jacket around his waist.
And then—
Buzz—
A deep hum rose behind him, almost identical to the sound from when the vortex first appeared.
A rasping howl tore through the silence.
"Raaah—!"
Years of instinctive training kicked in. Yan spun around, baton raised.
A creature nearly two meters tall lunged from the shadows.
Its skin was almost transparent, muscle fibers writhing visibly beneath it. Its head was smooth and hairless, its features vaguely human but with no nose. Blue pupils glowed in deep sockets, long pointed ears stretched upward, fangs protruded, and reversed joints anchored its clawed feet to the ground. A thick lizard-like tail whipped the air behind it.
Yan barely managed two steps back before the creature was already on him.
Its claws sliced through the air with a piercing whistle.
On instinct, he arched backward, narrowly dodging the attack.
The claws grazed his chest, leaving a shallow scratch. Half a second slower and he would've been gutted.
The creature's claws descended again.
He raised the baton to meet it—
CLANG!
Metal struck talon, sparks flying. The force sent a tremor through Yan's arms, almost dropping him to one knee.
"—Hah!"
He exhaled sharply, releasing his strength, twisting his body, and rolling away with the rebound.
He landed, braced the baton against the ground, and slid half a meter, widening the distance.
A deep claw mark scored the metal shaft.
The creature roared again, bluish fluid dripping from its jaws.
It crouched low, limbs bending backward like a beast poised to explode.
And in the next instant—
It sprang, the ground erupting beneath its feet.
Yan could only track its afterimage. His baton swung out in a wide arc.
The rod struck the creature's neck with a dull thud—like hitting a tree trunk.
For a moment, he thought he'd killed it. But then he realized how wrong he was.
Its head only tilted slightly. The next second, its tail sliced through the air—
Whoosh!
A gust blasted past him. Yan ducked instinctively, the tail brushing his scalp and smashing splinters off a nearby tree.
Before he could fully rise, the creature's claws were already slashing toward his chest.
—Too close!
Acting purely on instinct, Yan flicked the baton upward, blocking the strike.
The sharp claws scraped along the metal, screeching.
The strength behind it was monstrous—the entire baton bent under pressure. Yan gritted his teeth and swept his right leg low, kicking the creature's knee joint.
Crack!
A sharp snap. The creature staggered.
An opening!
Yan twisted his waist and swung upward. The baton smashed into its jaw.
A heavy thud sounded. The creature's head jolted back violently, releasing a guttural snarl as blue fluid sprayed into the air, tracing eerie arcs.
A sweet scent drifted faintly through the air.
Seizing the moment, Yan retreated two steps, gripping the baton in reverse. His breath roared in his chest.
He could feel his blood boiling, his focus sharpening with each inhale.
The creature shook its head, growling low. Then it lunged again.
But this time, it had learned—not charging blindly.
Yan narrowed his eyes.
As the shadow pounced, he stepped forward sharply. Muscles tightened, veins bulging along his forearms. The baton flashed sideways—
CLANG—!
The rod scraped across the creature's cheek, snapping its head aside. Transparent skin tore open, blue fluid spilling and glowing faintly on the ground.
The sweet scent grew stronger.
The creature roared and pounced again.
Yan squinted, lowering his stance, twisting his waist—then the baton snapped out like lightning.
This strike hit the creature square in the face. The impact sent it flying backward into a tree.
Leaves rained down, branches snapping.
Yan drew in a deep breath, still gripping the baton with both hands, eyes locked on the shadow crumpled on the ground.