Player 380 Death Novels & Stories

I sighed after saying those words. As moments passed, the gong rang. It was a signal that the battle was about to begin. “Abram Thas is back! One of the judges is currently having a draw and—the first to count numbers 808 and 321!” The arena became clangorous once again. People were relentlessly screaming and causing chaos. Someone was already injured . . . based on the rumors. A few more minutes passed and the pair came out and showed up inside the field. The man behind number 808 was a muscular man while the person behind number 321 was skinny. 321 was the man I saw earlier.

I said. “the f*ck is wrong with you?! It’s a name, why can’t you just tell me now.” He said like a kid. “The excitement will ruin f*cker.” I said and he just rolled his eyes at me like a girl and crossed his arms on his chest. Third Person POV “You also felt it?” Death asks Chaos as the others leave to head to the hospital. “Because we have some unfinished business to take care off.” Chaos said and walked around holding his gun.

A person appeared by the large tree ahead, and before he could react, he heard a gunshot. Then, his avatar turned grey. He was killed! And the one who killed him was none other than Z! As Frank was eliminated, John in the audience took a sip of his water, feeling satisfied. "Well played," he thought to himself. Frank stared at the capitalized "Game Over" on his computer screen, almost ripping out his green hair in frustration. Did he dye his brain along with his hair? Does he really need to worry about it himself? Great, now he's given away his victory to someone else.

Instead, the system gave me a new notification. 'This body will die in three days, so you may return to your original world then.'

“But don't worry! Dying is the first step.” Dead? My blood ran cold. He smirked. “Just don’t do it again.” “This is nonsense. I refuse to listen. Let me out of this fucking insane bus,” I yelled, hitting the metal ground with my right foot. The man was too cold. Too cold to the point you could not look into his eyes for too long. As if he was a grim reaper. “It’s too late. The game has already been activated, and you have been registered as a player.” His voice was too quiet. Too hazardous.

Her dress actually stayed white at the end! 【Unbelievable. This new player just changed her entire attribute set. She’s got some serious skills.】 The next morning, I woke to the sound of that eerie mechanical voice again: 【Initial players: 30 | Current survivors: 15】 Half-asleep, I grabbed my phone and saw the player chat blowing up. Another five people had died overnight. Three of them were killed by the entities.

Reggie said, standing up from the bank and threw his duffle bag over his shoulder. "Yeah, let's bounce." I said in agreement, grabbing my own duffle bag. Everyone had already left. It was only the three of us left in the locker room. The fluorescent lights hummed above us, too bright, too sharp for the headache pounding behind my eyes. Reggie let out a low groan as he stretched his back. "Bro, Coach was on crack today. Why the hell did he make us run suicides again?" "Because you suck," Jasper shot back, slinging his bag over his shoulder.

I whisper. Kieran doesn’t move. “I will not.” “You have to.” My voice trembles now. “I’m not going to be the reason the system you built turns you into something that can’t feel.” “Nora.” “If you keep choosing me,” I say quietly, “eventually the Weave will stop you.” Kieran steps closer. “I am Death,” he says softly. “No one dies unless I allow it.” His gaze never leaves mine. “And I will not allow your life to end.”

Jenna was dumbfounded. "You… You were reborn too?" I pressed my lips together, answering, "Yeah. Maybe the universe noticed how unjustly I died, so it gave me a second chance at life. Jenna, in this life, you're going to face the consequences of your greed." With that, I hung up. On the live stream, Jenna was so devastated she couldn't even cry anymore. As Keith wasn't the type to be merciful, he pinned Jenna to the ground and punched her face repeatedly.

If it ever did, he would dismiss it as a mere gossip. Marcus continued staring through the windows as the greenery rushed past them, while he turned back inwardly to something that was troubling his soul. His mind told him he had made a mistake. His ego told him that what he did was right. It was not every day that one got to deal with a witch, even if it was a little boy. That wouldn’t have been a problem if he had not nearly choked because the boy, Jason was looking at him. Dean had died soon after. Problem was he didn’t know how powerful the boy was.