My Living Shadow System Devours To Make Me Stronger

The sounds of heavy breathing echoed out. He was unsure if it was his own breath or if he had stolen someone else's, but the fear in his heart was still there. His body still had blood, and his heart was still beating.

He was sure he was still alive. He was still breathing.

He held his sickle in one hand and his battle axe in the other, blood still slick on it.

A few days had passed since the war games had begun, and at first, it was good, everything was easy, easier than expected. All they had to do was hunt demon beasts and monsters. But after the first day, things took a turn for the worse.

The demon beasts began to migrate, and everyone followed their migration patterns. Soon, they all began to disappear.

Thousands of hot-blooded warriors gathered toward the center, where prey was scarce, a few demon beasts here and there, then monsters became scarce.

It wasn't long before competition grew. Everyone wanted those medallions, no matter what they had to do.

Just like that, people began to fight among themselves. If you had medallions, people would attack you to obtain them.

This soon brought another difficulty. Some people were simply too powerful. They could wipe out entire parties alone. Against such opponents, weaker ones could only join forces.

And just like that, the chaos increased. One death led to two, and soon factions were formed, nobles teamed with nobles, adventurers trusted only adventurers.

Small conflicts escalated into larger ones, and soon massive factions came into existence, each fighting for dominance beyond mere medallions.

It was almost as if an unseen hand was controlling everything, manipulating everyone.

His faction had just been wiped out by a red-haired woman wearing a white flower in her hair. He still remembered her green eyes as she slaughtered everyone.

More than a hundred adventurers, all dead.

He fled with their medallions, every single one, while she killed the rest.

"So that's Lilith Astranova… what a monster."

That was two days ago. He'd been running ever since.

He arrived at what he'd heard was the last bridge. Beyond the bridge, demons had already reached the central island, which was massive. His plan was to go into hiding there with the medallions.

"I just need to cross the bridge."

It was this thought that drove him here, the belief that if he crossed the bridge, he'd find safety and a head start over everyone else.

When he reached within viewing distance of the bridge, he paused. A large wooden sign stood there, carved beautifully in elegant penmanship.

It read:

No Combat Zone.

By Order.

Terms and Conditions Apply.

He stopped, confusion flashing across his face.

By order? Order of who? And what terms and conditions? A no combat zone? He didn't remember this being in the rules.

He slowed down and decided to approach cautiously. Step by step, he crossed the hill, reaching the large bridge. There, he saw a glowing welcome sign. Upon closer look, it was made with rune magic, the runes were the source of the glow, but that was all they did.

"Hmmm, I've seen this before. Ain't this one of those light runes?"

He looked beyond the sign and saw a table neatly arranged with chairs and cutlery. It looked like an open-air restaurant, with a soft, inviting ambiance. It looked safe, too safe.

There were two women there. One had violet hair and carried what looked like a record book in her hand. The other stood behind her, holding a tray. She had long dark hair and beautiful copper skin.

He gulped. "Did I die? Is this paradise? Has my soul been wandering all this time?"

Slowly, he approached them. As soon as he reached the first table, the women moved toward him.

"Welcome to the Bridge Crossing Monetization Restaurant that serves my personal interest. Bridge Crossing, for short. Would you like a meal?"

He froze, shocked by her words. A restaurant? It was actually a restaurant. Who started a restaurant on a battlefield? People were dying, and someone was living it up.

The second lady walked up to him, her voice slightly rigid.

"This is a no combat zone; therefore, fighting is forbidden. We will happily provide you with service. Do you want to start with a bath and a change of clothes, or would you prefer medicine and food?"

He glanced at his body, scraped and wounded. He trembled. His years as an adventurer told him to run away, but this was the only way to cross the bridge. It was the only bridge.

"…I would like to cross the bridge…"

He spoke politely, because he was smart enough to sense that these women were powerful.

The violet-haired woman smiled.

"Of course. Please read and sign our terms and conditions. Food and medicine come with our services."

She handed him a large pile of papers with small, handwritten text.

He frowned. Reading all of this would be a pain. He quickly skimmed through the first page, everything looked good, reading the rest would be tedious, so he just signed.

It wasn't even magical paper or a contract. Who was going to force him to adhere to it? No one.

As soon as he signed, Renata smiled calmly, her voice cheerful.

"Thank you, patron, for coming to the Bridge Crossing Monetization Restaurant that serves my personal interest. We hope you enjoy your brief stay here."

The man nodded, relaxing slightly, as the other woman with copper skin smiled rigidly and gestured for him to sit while they prepared his bath.

"Would you like some tea while you wait?"

Renata placed down a warm teacup, and he drank it gratefully.

A few seconds later, Wendy returned.

"Your bath is ready in the main tent. I hope you enjoyed your tea."

He nodded, already relaxed from the sudden sense of safety, and followed her, the butcher leading the lamb into the slaughterhouse.

Damon had acquired his first victim.