Unholy Player-Chapter 103: Dangling a carrot [BONUS]

While effortlessly dodging the first drone, Adyr was already tracking the others, mapping their trajectories through his sharpened senses. When all five closed in, equidistant from his body and moving in perfect sync, he made his move.

Without warning, he twisted his upper body and kicked off the ground, lifting into the air with fluid precision. His body spun mid-air, limbs tucked in with the control of a seasoned acrobat. He passed through the narrow gap between the five drones—an opening so tight it seemed impossible to slip through.

The drones, suddenly deprived of their target, failed to react in time. Their emergency halt systems didn’t even activate before they crashed into each other mid-flight. A chain of sharp metallic collisions erupted as their sleek black shells smashed together, spraying fragments and sparks in every direction.

One slammed into the ground, trailing smoke. Another bounced off a wall and spun wildly before crashing beside it. Within seconds, the room fell silent again, save for the faint hiss of burning circuits.

"What did we just watch?" One of the researchers asked, rising from his seat, eyes wide as he stared at the screen.

"Play the replay. Slow it down. I want to see it again," another researcher said loudly, his voice cutting through the stunned silence. The others nodded without a word. Everything had happened too fast. None of them had fully grasped what they’d witnessed.

In real-time, it was a blur. One moment, Adyr was standing still, seemingly about to be overwhelmed by five incoming drones. Next, there was a violent crash, shards of metal scattering in every direction, and Adyr, calm and composed, was standing at the center of the wreckage as if the chaos had never touched him at all.

"Uh... Mr. Adyr, there was a technical issue, so we’ll need to delay the next phase for a bit. Apologies for the inconvenience," Corven’s tense, startled voice echoed from the speakers.

"It’s okay. Take your time," Adyr replied with an amused chuckle.

In the observation room, every researcher had gathered, replaying the footage in slow motion over and over again.

"This is insane. How can someone track the movement of drones at that speed and calculate the perfect moment for them to collide? I’m not even getting into the evasion itself. What kind of body and instinct lets someone slip through a five-drone formation with only millimeters to spare?" one of the researchers blurted out, barely able to keep up with his own thoughts.

The others remained silent. No one had an answer that made sense.

Of course, their shock had a clear reason. Adyr’s [Will] stat allowed him to perceive and process movement with exceptional clarity, commanding his body with exact control. Paired with [Sense], which sharpened his awareness of his surroundings and incoming motion, the combination created something far beyond rare. It was a singularity.

For the first time, the researchers had witnessed what a high-level synergy between [Will] and [Sense] could truly achieve.

But that alone wasn’t enough.

Adyr’s cold-blooded nature and analytical thinking, honed through years of survival and violence in his previous life, were just as crucial. Seeing and sensing the movements wasn’t enough to pull off what he had just done. It also demanded fast thinking, tactical intelligence, and a level of real-world experience that bordered on unnatural.

All of it had come together in one perfect moment, resulting in an image that looked less like a real event and more like a scene crafted with high-budget CGI.

While Adyr stood waiting for the test to resume, the door to the room opened, and Corven entered with quick steps.

"Mr. Adyr, thank you for your cooperation. The test is concluded," Corven said, forcing a polite smile.

Adyr raised an eyebrow. "I thought there were more phases?" He had actually wanted to finish the course—it looked entertaining.

Corven let out a tense chuckle. "Mr. Adyr, we believe we’ve seen enough. Also... we only have 15 drones." He paused, glancing at the broken pieces scattered across the floor, then corrected himself. "10 drones left to continue the test, and I don’t believe that would be enough to engage you."

His words reflected not just his own thoughts but the consensus of the entire research team. After reviewing the footage, they had all come to the same conclusion. This training field simply wasn’t equipped to measure someone like him.

"So your final score is..." Corven paused, checking the notes in his hand, then said it more like a question than a statement. "125? Yeah, it’s 125 anyway."

Adyr found the man’s delivery oddly amusing. He looked like he was just tossing out numbers without any real scientific backing behind them.

Still, even Adyr was a little surprised by the result. He had scored 125 on the force test thanks to his Spark, but getting the same score here—on a speed test—didn’t reflect his raw speed. It was mostly due to his reflexes and professional-level adaptation.

If I go by their metrics, my real speed should be somewhere between 50 and 60. He calculated the number internally, assigning himself a more realistic score. But he had no intention of saying it out loud. Letting them believe it was 125 worked in his favor.

"With this included, your total score is..." Corven hesitated for a moment, then swallowed before finishing. "It’s 304. Congratulations, Mr. Adyr. Based on the numbers, you’re now officially as strong as an STF operative."

It had only been days since he became a mutant and started playing the game. Yet he had already reached a level that normally required years of brutal training and unwavering dedication.

No wonder everyone watching was left speechless.

STF, huh? Adyr’s thoughts couldn’t have been more different from the researchers’. frёewebηovel.cѳm

Being as strong as them wasn’t enough. He needed to be stronger.

After all, they were the ones who had been wiped out by the Cannibal—a first-generation mutant.

If Adyr wanted to see blood, to taste it again, he had to surpass them. Strength alone wasn’t the goal. It was only the threshold.

"You monster, how the hell did you do that?" Victor said with a crooked grin, walking up and smacking Adyr’s arm.

"Hey, you’re hurting my arm," Adyr said, pulling away.

"Me? What the hell are you talking about? You’re the one hurting me. You hurt my ego, my feelings. How can you be so much stronger than I? What the fuck?" Victor snapped, but Adyr could see it wasn’t anger behind his words—just genuine pride and amusement.

He really was the type who could watch his friends rise above him without feeling even an ounce of jealousy.

Corven watched the exchange in silence, observing the conversation between two monsters.

Victor might have been calling Adyr a monster, but he was one in his own right. Corven had personally reviewed his test data before, and in every single one, he had noticed Victor was holding back.

He didn’t know why. But one thing was clear: the 135-point power ranking definitely didn’t reflect Victor’s real capabilities.

Adyr knew it too, but he said nothing. He understood Victor’s character well. For all his lazy, goofy demeanor, there was serious talent buried underneath. He often looked like an idiot, acted like he didn’t care, but that exterior hid frightening potential.

"By the way, Mr. Adyr, according to your score, 304 merit points will be deposited into your account shortly," Corven said, cutting in. "And as the new number one, you’ll receive a one-week, fifty-percent discount on all government store products."

"Oh. I didn’t know that," Adyr said with a hint of surprise. There hadn’t been any mention of such a benefit anywhere.

"Haha, yeah, it’s a new trick they added. Like dangling a carrot in front of us donkeys—just to get better data out of us," Victor said, laughing loud enough while ignoring the stares of the nearby researchers.