DEADLY GAME SYSTEM

Chapter three: The Infirmary

The heavy iron door groaned shut behind them, sealing with a final clang that echoed through their ’ bones. For a moment, no one spoke. The silence pressed in, broken only by ragged breathing, the shuffle of exhausted feet, and the distant hum of the system’s unseen machinery.

Then torches flickered to life along the walls, illuminating a long corridor that stretched ahead. At the far end, glowing letters hovered in the air:

[Infirmary Access – 100 Points]

[Food – 80 Points]

[Water – 100 Points]

The students froze, eyes darting between the glowing signs and each other.

“What the hell is this now?” muttered Marcus, still half-carrying Sophia, whose leg was still bent at a sick angle.

 “We’ve already killed monsters, and now we’re supposed to pay for… what? For being alive?”

Sophia winced, clutching his shoulder. “Marcus… I need treatment. I can’t walk on this.”

“Treatment?” one of the boys snapped from behind. He was tall, with messy curls plastered to his forehead with sweat. His name was Jamal Brown—Ethan vaguely remembered him from the basketball court back in school. “They’re charging us to fix injuries they caused? That’s robbery!”

“They don’t care about fair,” Ethan said flatly. His sharp eyes flicked across the glowing signs. “This is a system. Cold, logical. Survival costs points. If you don’t spend them now, you might not live long enough to use them later.”

“What do you know about this delivery boy”

Oliver Grant said 

“This is not the time for this shit” Marcus snapped 

Lena, the pink-haired girl, crossed her arms. “And if we waste them now, we’ll never hit ten thousand points for the next level.”

The words struck a chord. Murmurs broke out, louder this time—confusion, anger, fear.

Ethan pressed his palm against his bleeding side. The cut burned with every breath, sticky warmth soaking his shirt. His first instinct was to rush straight to the infirmary. But the glowing letters made his gut twist. One hundred points—for one patch-up. He only had five hundred. Was his life worth twenty percent of his progress?

His chest tightened. Of course it is… but what if I need those points later?

---

The survivors shuffled forward cautiously until the corridor opened into a large hall that looked almost… sterile. Gleaming white walls, strange metal tables, and glowing pods lining the sides. It felt completely different from the jagged, hellish battlefield they’d just survived.

A mechanical hum filled the air. Then—

[Welcome to the Infirmary.]

The system’s voice was calm, indifferent.

[Rules: Treatment costs 100 points. Food costs 80 points. Water costs 100 points. Purchases are non-refundable. Refusal to eat or drink will not result in immediate elimination, but weakness will accumulate.]

Ethan’s breath caught. Weakness. That meant starvation and dehydration were possible here. The system wasn’t just killing them with monsters. It was draining them slowly, forcing them into impossible choices.

“Bullshit,” Jamal muttered again, clenching his fists. “We’re just university kids. You think I got money—points—to pay for this crap?”

A smaller boy nearby—short, wiry, with glasses askew—spoke up nervously. Ethan thought his name was Aaron. “We all got points from the first quest. At least five hundred. It’s enough for food and water, and treatment if you’re hurt.”

“Yeah? And what happens when they run another quest tomorrow? And the next day?” Jamal shot back. “We’ll burn through points just staying alive. You think that’s by accident? They want us desperate.”

“He’s right,” Ethan said coolly. “This isn’t about fairness. It’s about survival.

A few students gasped, others cursed under their breath.

Sophia whimpered suddenly, tears streaking her face. “Please, Marcus, I can’t—”

Marcus’s jaw tightened. He marched toward one of the glowing pods, glaring at the sign like it had personally offended him. “Fine. Take the damn points.”

The pod opened with a hiss. Sophia was guided inside, and the glowing light washed over her broken leg. A moment later, the bone snapped back into place with a sickening crack. She screamed, then gasped as the light smoothed over her skin, knitting it whole.

When the pod opened, she stepped out—shaky, pale, but healed.

“Points deducted: 100,” the system chimed.

Marcus clenched his fists. His balance sheet flashed in his vision:

[Player 390: Marcus Hale]

Points: 400

He spat on the ground. “Robbery.”

---

The others began debating in louder voices.

“Food should be free!” one girl shouted, her blond hair sticking to her tear-streaked face. “We didn’t ask to be here!”

“None of us did,” Lena said sharply. “But crying about it won’t change the rules. Spend your points smart or die.”

“That’s easy for you to say!” another boy barked. He was broad-shouldered, wearing a torn letterman jacket. Ethan recognized him—Derek, one of the football players. 

“You’re not starving, you’re not bleeding out—”

“She killed her monster with her hairpin” Ethan cut in suddenly, surprising even himself. His voice was low, steady, but it carried. “We all saw it. Don’t act like she’s had it easy.”

The room fell quiet for a beat. Derek glared at him but didn’t argue.

Ethan sank against one of the cold walls, clutching his wound. His vision was blurring at the edges now. The ache spread deeper with every heartbeat. He knew he needed treatment. But the cost…

Beside him, Lena crouched. “You’re hurt worse than you’re letting on,” she said softly, though her tone wasn’t kind—just blunt.

Lena wasn't a girl that did kindness 

“I can handle it,” Ethan muttered.

“You’ll bleed out before Quest Two even starts.”

Their eyes met briefly. She wasn’t challenging him. She was stating a fact.

And she was right.

Grinding his teeth, Ethan dragged himself to one of the pods. The moment he stepped inside, cold light enveloped him. Fire seared through his wound as the claws’ damage rewound itself. His flesh stitched back together in seconds, but the pain was unbearable. He screamed, fists clenched so hard his nails cut into his palms.

Then it was over. The pod hissed open. He stumbled out, panting, but the wound was gone.

[Player 382: Ethan Cole]

Points: 400

He felt weaker—but alive.

---

The hall buzzed with tension as more students argued about spending points. Some refused treatment, clutching their injuries. Others rushed for food and water like starving animals. A few, like Oliver, conserved every last point.

“Eighty points for food? A hundred for water?” Jamal barked. “What the hell—water costs more than food? This system’s rigged!”

“Maybe the water’s safer,” Aaron muttered.

“Or maybe it’s poison,” Derek shot back.

“Stop it!” a girl cried, her voice breaking. She had curly dark hair and wide brown eyes. “You’re all acting like animals already!”

“That’s because this place wants us to,” Ethan said smoothly, stepping forward. He looked around at the group, his voice calm but sharp. 

“Don’t you see? The system is forcing us to fight over scraps. If we waste points, if we panic, we’ll be easy prey. We need rules. Order. Leadership.”

“Leadership?” Marcus scoffed. “You volunteering, delivery boy?“

“I’m the only one here thinking straight,” Ethan replied coldly.

The murmurs turned into shouts—some agreeing, others mocking, a few outright cursing him. The tension thickened, simmering toward violence.

Ethan stayed quiet, watching. He felt his stomach churn—not just from hunger but from dread. They weren’t just fighting monsters anymore. They were fighting each other.

---

Hours seemed to pass inside the infirmary, though time felt strange here. Some students huddled in corners, hoarding their points. Others devoured food, gulped down water, or collapsed from exhaustion.

Ethan sat near Lena, Marcus, Sophia, and Jamal. A small cluster forming without anyone quite saying it aloud.

He didn’t trust them—not even a bit. But he knew instinctively that no one could survive this game alone.

Just as his eyes were starting to close, the system’s voice boomed again:

[Reminder: To advance to the next level, each player requires 10,000 points. Current survival rate: 150/400.]

[Next Quest begins soon.]

The words froze the room. The infirmar

y no longer felt safe.

And for the first time, Ethan realized the truth:

This wasn’t just survival.

It was economics.

It was war.

It was control.

****