Survival Game

"Chiririririt—!"

I snapped to attention at the eerie screech echoing from afar.

"Ugh."

My stomach churned like I'd chugged a barrel of booze.

Where...?

A dense canopy of towering trees filled my view—a familiar sight.

I tilted my head higher, gazing at the sky.

Ranking board. No way... this is...?

I jolted awake as if doused in ice water. This scene was unforgettable.

Status window.

If my hunch was right, it explained my waterlogged body and this hazy place.

...!

My eyes trembled like an earthquake as I scanned the status window.

No way... I really regressed?

The window and surroundings confirmed it.

"Ha..."

My mind reeled. Memories flooded back from before I blacked out.

Despite winning the Species War, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠an admin's unfair meddling doomed me.

Grind.

My teeth ground together.

Overturning the system's rules themselves.

Twenty years of effort, gone in vain—rage boiled up, hot enough to cook my brain, mingled with injustice.

"Hoo."

I shuddered with fury, then exhaled deeply to calm down. The Composure skill from reaching Ultimate Body was gone, but I'd peaked once before; taming this was easy.

Think calmly. This might be a good thing.

I leaned against a massive tree trunk, assessing my situation.

Megaera Mantis.

My gaze lingered on the race entry. Faint memories surfaced of picking a hidden route just before losing consciousness.

Megaera Mantis—a legendary unbeatable ancient race.

I'd never tested its power firsthand, but if even half-true, my potential had no ceiling.

If I master this power, I'll shatter racial limits.

A weak Common Mantis among mantises, yet I'd claimed the world's peak. Supporters once lamented:

"Aleck, if only you'd been born a King Mantis... or even a Shield Mantis. Abian Continent's history would've rewritten itself sooner. What a shame."

Racial limits—the chains of birth that held me back.

With Megaera Mantis power, I'd smash ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠those chains and soar beyond.

This is an opportunity.

Crisis breeds chance. I could fix past regrets, craft a perfect path to victory.

And beyond rematching that savage Palm Scorpion Apostle, I'd face the admin scum.

Ether at S-rank, Potential SSS.

Ether was usable only from Maturity Stage, fully at Complete Body.

But my infant body has no stages yet—how do I hold so much Ether?

It baffled me. S-rank Ether required Ultimate Body.

Yet I felt vast reserves inside—not peak, but close.

I'll need to meditate to figure it out.

If memory served, this was the Survival Exam Field mid-exam. Primals everywhere—no time for introspection.

Three days of survival only. But my lips curled anyway.

Starting with cheats feels great.

Infant Stage Ether at S—like a newborn human with godlike mana. Unheard of, even for elites like Hercules or Pallawan.

Potential SSS? Mind-blowing.

Pre-regression, S Potential let a Common Mantis topple continent's best.

Higher potential meant faster growth, higher caps. SSS? Unimaginable speed and peaks.

And not done—three rune slots open early.

New trait too.

Predation?

Limit Break (S) was mine—maxed Common Mantis power with high potential.

Predation (—) was new, unranked.

Megaera inheritance, maybe. I'll explore later.

With this spec, failing Transcendence means eating dirt.

I smirked, glancing skyward.

Less than three days left. Pre-regression, bare survival; now, victory was feasible.

Can't lose to these kids.

Survival Exam rank set initial Mantis Hall grade. Winning meant big gains.

Minor elixirs aside, top spot boosts my standing hugely.

Higher chance at Mantis Hall Treasury's S-rank rune—"that one."

Perfect for early durability weakness in mantis types. Unlocks max Ether use pre-Complete Body.

Unformed body couldn't wield S Ether fully, but that rune would lift restrictions.

"Alright. Let's win this Survival Exam."

Glancing up, 1st had 3,205 points—likely bagged a primal.

Fastest points? Hunt primals, don't hide.

Top guy was skilled, but no match for me.

I rose to hunt, a grin creeping in at the thrill.

Survival Exam Field outskirts. Three mid-teens boys—chubby frames flattened—hid among clustered trees.

"Haa, time's crawling."

"Feels like a day's gone. Only four hours? Bullshit."

"Right? When's chow time?"

Chubby Torch rubbed his belly.

"Damn pig. Food going down easy now? One slip, you're dead."

"Ugh, I know, but..."

"Two meals for three days. You wanna burn through it already?"

Leader Kind snapped at Torch, who sulked.

"Fine, I'll hold. Slurp. Wish some dumbass wandered by. Snag their grub, no worries."

"True that."

"Idiots—still scheming extortion. Our thug roots run deep, huh."

They chuckled, self-aware. Past street rats, mugging weaklings or pickpocketing for scraps.

"Hey! Quiet."

Kind spotted something, hushing them. They peered where he looked.

...!

A slim boy approached leisurely.

"Yo, lucky us?"

"Heh! Food!"

Their eyes gleamed predatory. Kind nodded; Torch and Wakil flanked wide.

As target neared, they encircled, revealing themselves.

"Hey, buddy. Where you rushing off to?"

Kind grinned at the boy—long hair draping shoulders, veiling half his face. Handsome vibe shone through.

Pretty boy like a flower prince? Meh.

Kind scowled; he disliked pretty types.

"No chit-chat. Hand over all rations."

Gruff tone. Looked harmless beyond looks. Clan mark: Common Mantis.

"Oh, it's you."

The boy's lips curled slyly. Kind shivered inexplicably.

This guy?

I smirked inwardly.

Kind. Unforgettable punk.

The one who bossed me around.

First met pre-regression here. They stripped my rations and dagger.

Scrounging alone, caught—looted clean. But survived thanks to them? Scraps tossed my way let me play lackey three days.

Problem: endless bullying after.

Post-exam, same ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Assassination Squad. Years of errands, humiliation etched deep. Not sadistic, but eroded my pride relentlessly.

Pay back what I got—fair's fair.

I smirked. No Assassination Squad plans; unknown if ties persist. But here? Use him.

"Look at this fool. No read on the vibe."

"Kekeke, ballsy for a pretty face."

"Dumb ones need beatings."

Kind shook off the chill, hyping his voice.

"Enough. You're toast. Was gonna spare ya, but primal bait it is."

Kind grimaced thuggishly. Laughable, no threat.

His antics amused; silent stare—he thought me scared.

"What? Primal food sink in? Heh, should've behaved. Know how scary these primals are? Kneel and beg now..."

Kind yapped empty threats.

"Chiririririt!"

A chilling high-pitched screech from behind.

...!

Kind's crew paled.

"Wh-what?!"

They turned: a cricket primal, head-and-shoulders taller.

Primal Species. Giant Abian lifeforms mimicking insects.

Carnivorous cricket. Baby one?

Small-mid primal. Early danger despite size; mantis larvae no match.

Mantises dominate post-adult, but early crickets are punks.

Kind's group—mantis powerhouses—still outmatched.

Luckily just 1st instar.

For normals like Kind, yes. Not me.

"R-run... away."

Torch stammered, trembling. They backed slowly—frozen by fear, lest movement trigger it.

Clack.

I strolled past toward it casually.

...?

"Hey! What?!"

They gawked, shocked. Looked suicidal.

Proved not heartless—true villains would've sacrificed me instantly.

"Chiriririt!"

Cricket gnashed jaws, glaring. I aimed my dagger, charged.

Shk, shkaaa!

Blade danced; green blood sprayed.

Thud.

It collapsed resistless. I stabbed between eyes at its faint cry.

Board updated; I turned to Kind's crew, dumbfounded, staring between me and corpse.

"So, what were you gonna do with me as primal bait?"

Their eyes quaked like earthquakes.