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Killing Dante doesn’t end this, unfortunately.

He’s but one hunter. One problem, and even if I put a knife through his throat, I’d still be trapped inside a televised slaughterhouse with dozens of cameras pointed at me.

I’d still have to outlive everyone else.

Meaning every contestant standing behind me will eventually become an obstacle. Statistically speaking, most of them will die before I ever have to make that decision.

But most importantly, I’ll have to deal with myself.

Then there’s the money and the prize of becoming a hunter.

The offer alone is laughable. I refuse to spend years murdering strangers for the entertainment of people hiding behind screens.

I’d sooner put a bullet through my own head or take the money and disappear. Leave every memory of it buried beneath as many kilometers as I can put between myself and this building.

My gaze involuntarily drifts towards Amani. She’s still in deep conversation with the others.

I think I’d still want someone like her around. Someone who reminds me the world isn’t entirely made up of people like Dante.

Or me.

“We should scope out hiding places,” I exhale through my nose, pushing myself away from the railing.

Leo watches me for another second before nodding just as another voice bleeds into my ears, “I finally found you, Summers!”

Every conversation behind me dies instantly, and I pivot toward a corridor. Mason stands at its entrance with 3 others spread out behind him, including Jayden.

A cruel grin stretches across both their faces before Mason’s eyes settle on Leo. “You and your bitch…”

What a fucking nuisance. I don’t have the patience for this. Or the energy.

“I have a bone to pick with you too,” he adds, dark eyes now falling on Amani before nudging his head, sending his mediocre groups of three rushing towards us.

Luckily, we outnumber them—oh wait, never-fucking-mind. Jeremy and Nara bolt down the opposite flight of stairs and disappear like the fucking cowards they are.

Every trace of fatigue evaporates, replaced by instinct as I reach for my knife.

Mason still has that stupid smug look on his face as one of the players grabs Amani, another chasing after Lucas as Jayden darts towards Leo. Helping any of them is at the bottom of my list as Mason charges straight at me, eating up the distance in seconds.

The first punch whistles past my jaw.

The second comes lower.

I pivot, letting it skim past my ribs, but to my surprise, he recovers his footing in an instant. He drives forward right into my abdomen, my back hitting the railing as I grab it to center myself.

“What?” Mason laughs, circling me. “Don’t know how to fight?”

I clutch my stomach with one hand, sucking in controlled breaths. My other hand falls from the railing, strategically keeping my head down yet eyes tracking his feet.

Mason doesn’t notice, and the moment he steps in again, I do too, my fist connecting cleanly with his mouth.

The crack of knuckles against teeth echoes through the corridor as he stumbles backward, more surprised than hurt. Blood immediately beads along his split lip.

I don’t waste the opening, going right for his throat, letting the chaos that has erupted around me blur as I rip the hunting knife free from my belt.

I drive my hand forward with enough force to bury the blade in Mason’s throat, but his left hand snaps up at the last second. Steel punches through his palm instead, tearing straight through flesh before the momentum carries it past his hand and within a breath of his neck.

“Ah FUCK—” Mason roars, shoving me backward with enough force to wrench my grip from the hilt of the knife remaining buried in his palm.