Everyone knelt in awe.
These so-called "masters of faking death" had delivered performances so flawless they were genuinely convincing.
Seriously—didn't everyone go through the same nine years of compulsory education? How were they this good at acting? At this point, it felt like they'd all secretly double-majored in drama.
Meanwhile, a certain unfortunate soul had just rage-quit.
Still drenched in cold sweat, body trembling from lingering phantom pain, he shakily logged onto the game forum.
> "You won't believe this—but I almost died playing a game. It felt like actual torture. I swear I'm never doing that again."
> "Are you into masochism or something? Why didn't you lower the pain settings?"
> "I DID! Or at least… I thought I did. This has to be a bug."
The post exploded.
For the first time since launch, a real bug report had appeared.
More players who had died and logged out chimed in, each telling the same story: they had adjusted their pain sensitivity before fighting the boss—but it hadn't mattered at all.
> "Wait, you too?"
> "Same! I turned it down, but it still felt like being burned alive."
After a long, frantic discussion, a horrifying conclusion emerged.
Every time a player was killed by a boss, the system forcibly raised their pain sensitivity to 50%, overriding all personal settings.
A collective chill ran through the forum.
This wasn't hardcore.
This was inhumane.
> "It's probably intentional. A hidden death penalty—to stop people from casually challenging bosses."
Unlike traditional MMOs, where death was just a mild inconvenience, this game made dying mean something.
Pain was real. Consequences lingered.
> "We have to warn the others still inside!"
> "Too late. You can't access the forums while logged in."
> "Then… they'll learn the hard way."
Helplessly, they watched as what was supposed to be a triumphant second beta day spiraled into a collective tragedy.
A full party wipe loomed—accompanied by a symphony of screams.
…
Meanwhile, Felix sat peacefully on his chair, chewing his food with detached amusement.
He normally didn't pay the players much attention.
But now?
Swatting them away while eating was oddly satisfying—like watching TV during dinner.
Slap!
Slap!
Slap!
Slap!
More brave souls stepped forward.
> "I'll show you what a real man looks like!"
> "AAAAAAHHHH!!!"
Bloodcurdling cries echoed without pause as Felix casually brushed them aside like insects.
After all, out in the countryside, swatting ants during a quiet meal was just daily life.
While everyone played sacrificial lamb to distract him, one cunning figure finally made his move.
The Pallbearer Chicken had successfully crawled into Felix's lunchbox.
> "Heh… I've finally done it. I'll poison him to death."
Akina's Speedster grinned, leading over a dozen chicken-evolved creatures as they burrowed deep into the sea of white rice.
The suicide squad froze, staring in disbelief.
> "He did it!"
> "After all those sacrifices… we finally reached the boss!"
Tears streamed down digital faces.
Sure, the screams had been accidental—but the performances were still Oscar-worthy.
Felix glanced down, mildly curious.
"So… you actually made it into my lunchbox," he muttered. "You guys really went all out."
He picked it up and resumed eating.
If he wants me to eat him, I'll play along.
Another bite.
Nearby, the hidden insects held their breath.
> "Yes! Eat! Hurry up!"
Gobble.
Gobble.
Anticipation skyrocketed.
Then—just as Felix was about to bite into the Pallbearer Chicken—he paused.
"So many bugs today," he sighed. "And my food's cold. I'll heat it up."
He stood and walked inside.
Players: "???"
What?
> "Did this NPC just… reject raw food?"
> "What kind of boss is this?! Why is he this realistic?"
> "This can't be happening!"
"I just can't eat this idiot raw," Felix muttered.
It wasn't cannibalism—at worst, it was chicken-flavored bugs. People ate sashimi and raw steak all the time.
But he didn't like raw food.
Especially with stomach cancer.
He'd even double-checked with the Tyranis Hive Mind—the toxin would still work after cooking.
No risks.
Let's cook him properly.
He shoved the lunchbox into the oven and cranked it to the maximum.
280 degrees.
Felix hadn't forgotten who caused the most trouble.
The others had died quickly.
This one?
He was getting the full experience.
Whoosh.
The oven ignited like a miniature apocalypse.
Inside, Akina's Speedster panicked.
Steam rose from his bright red feathers. Sweat poured down his beak.
"No problem… I turned down pain… I'll be fine… I'll be fine…"
He clung desperately to denial.
> "Why does this dungeon have an OVEN?! What kind of hell is this?!"
Then came the screams.
"WAAAAAAHHHH!!!"
IT'S HOT—IT'S TOO HOT!
The pain was beyond hellfire. Every scream made the previous deaths sound gentle by comparison.
In the kitchen, Felix sat down, smiling faintly.
"There. Now we're even," he said calmly. "Maybe you'll stop trying to mess with me every day."
To the players, this had been an epic saga.
To him?
Dinner.
Then—
A phoenix's cry rang out from inside the oven.
Felix froze.
"…Seven or eight minutes in—and he's still alive?" His eyes narrowed. "Wait. Did this idiot… evolve inside the oven?"
For the first time ever, the Tyranis Hive Mind spoke with genuine surprise.
"The first Tyranis Hero… has been born."