Chương 64: Chapter 63 - Alpha (XXV)

Alonso gazed ahead. He was already 50 kilometers deep into the jungle, but today wasn't the day to push further. There was no need to take unnecessary risks, not yet. With a shake of his head, he turned and started his journey back. In the past two days, he had ventured just beyond the 60-kilometer mark, where the worms began attacking in groups of five. It had been a challenge at first, forcing him to craft his current hide armor to better defend himself. The decision had paid off.

Now, with the armor and his sword, he could afford to let one or two worms slip past his sword net and strike his vest. The panther hide was thick and durable, and as long as the worms didn't land a direct hit, they would glance off harmlessly. All he needed was to twist his body at the right moment, and he could manage five or more worms without breaking a sweat. Still, today wasn't meant for a full-scale expedition. This was just another training run. He'd head back to the beach, clean up, eat, and rest.

As for dinner, he'd pick it up along the way. The sun was already sinking low, after all. As he trekked back, instinctively cutting down the swarms of worms that pursued him, his mind wandered. Somehow, he had adapted to this isolation. Not that he enjoyed it, but the loneliness wasn't as unbearable as he'd expected. He still missed his friends, still longed to be at his mother's side, bringing her flowers every day at the hospital.

And, like it or not, he even found himself missing the face of his annoying PhD supervisor. Yet despite all that, he had begun to feel a strange sense of peace on this island. Of course, life here wasn't exactly comfortable. His grocery runs had turned into foraging from the corpses of eyeless panthers, his kitchen had been replaced by heated rocks, and his bathroom was nothing more than a hidden spot behind a coconut tree. His showers? Taken in leech-infested waters.

As for his roommates, they tried to kill him on sight. But honestly, wasn't that just a small step up from the usual student housing at uni? Since Jonah's encounter on day three, Alonso hadn't seen anyone else. It was partly by design—he spent less time on the beach now, opting instead to stay on the jungle's edge, where the worms and panthers didn't roam. He trained there, slept there, and kept himself hidden, ensuring that anyone passing along the shore wouldn't notice his presence.

Yet, one pressing issue loomed over him. While food and water weren't immediate concerns—he could survive for months if necessary—he knew he couldn't stay here forever. Eventually, he would need to find a way out of this strange reality. But the more he explored, the more daunting that task seemed. Just the other day, he had measured the size of the island, and the results were far from encouraging.

He had studied the island's layout, factoring in that each person—or challenger—seemed to start at different points along the perimeter, all being driven toward the center. Based on this pattern, he suspected the island was perfectly circular. To confirm this, Alonso had run several kilometers along the shore, using his EM Domain to measure the distance covered. By calculating the arc and factoring in the Earth's natural magnetic dipole, he was able to estimate the island's radius with a small margin of error.

And the result? Somewhere between 770 and 785 kilometers. For reference, this meant the island's area would be between approximately 1. 86 million and 1. 93 million square kilometers. To put that into perspective, the island's size was comparable to Greenland, which covers an area of about 2. 17 million square kilometers. This meant he was effectively trapped on an landmass nearly the size of the largest island on Earth. That… was not good.

He had only made it 60 kilometers in, and already the worms were proving troublesome. Not overwhelming, but definitely a challenge. So what about at 100 kilometers? Or 200? Or worse—700 kilometers? This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report. Another worm leapt at him, snapping him out of his thoughts. He shook his head; dwelling on it wouldn't help. He had to believe something would change.

Surely the entire 780-kilometer stretch couldn't just be an endless barrage of increasingly aggressive worms. It wouldn't make sense. There had to be transitions, maybe to different creatures or obstacles that would push him to grow stronger along the way. But even so, how long would it take him to cover that distance? Even with his enhanced physical abilities, the sheer scale of it was overwhelming. And that wasn't even considering the need for food, water, and rest.

Sure, he could maintain a steady running pace of around 35 kilometers per hour—close to Olympic-level 100-meter sprint speeds back on Earth—but that was the limit. Even at that pace, it would take him nearly a whole day to cover the full distance, assuming no rest and no interruptions. And who was he kidding? There was no way he could sustain that speed for so long, even with his enhanced body. It just wasn't realistic. The whole thing painted a grim challenge ahead.

He could only hope that along the way, there would be checkpoints—places to rest, replenish his supplies, maybe even find water and food. The thought of the entire journey being infested with monsters from start to finish was too much to bear. As his thoughts wandered, the jungle dimmed, the sun's rays no longer piercing the thick canopy. Then he sensed it—every step, every movement. His EM Domain mapped the creature's body with precision. The first panther, huh.

He continued jogging, seemingly unconcerned, until it was right behind him. In an instant, he planted his foot hard into the ground, gripping his sword tight. As he turned, his entire body rotated in one fluid motion, not just his arm but his legs, hips, and torso all contributing to the strike. Like the famous five-inch punch in martial arts, where the force comes from the whole body compressed into a small movement, Alonso's slash packed devastating power.

It was a short, controlled motion—not a wide arc—but it carried the momentum of his entire mass behind it. The blade struck with surgical precision at the panther's neck. The impact was swift and lethal, as if the beast's flesh were no more resistant than wood against a sharp ax. The panther's body, still propelled by its own momentum, rolled forward as blood splattered from the severed neck. With a quick flick of his wrist, Alonso cleaned the blood from his sword. He didn't bother looking at the corpse.

The meat was too heavy to carry from here; he preferred a closer pick-up location. August 6, 2024 - Yarra Ranges, Australia It was hard to see the outside as it was dark already, and he dared not get his phone out to check their current location. After a couple of hours of travel, though, Pablo guessed they should be close to the Yarra Ranges by now. And sure enough, the familiar sign flashed by in the headlights. But then… it wasn't at all what he remembered.

The area felt subtly different—small changes he couldn't quite pinpoint. As they rounded a bend, signs of human intervention became apparent: warning notices about prohibited access and a modest checkpost with a striped barrier to stop cars. As they neared the checkpost, the officer pulled to a smooth stop. The headlights illuminated the barrier ahead and the figure of a soldier standing by, his face partially shadowed under his camo helmet.

The officer stepped out of the car, opening the rear door for Pablo and Jack.

"You'll be under the care of the military from here," the officer said, his voice calm but carrying an air of finality. Pablo and Jack exchanged a quick glance, then stepped out of the car. The soldier standing nearby approached them, his expression neutral but attentive. He wasn't imposing, but his presence, like everything else about this place, made it clear that this was no ordinary situation.

"Evening," the soldier greeted, his tone professional yet soft.

"Can I get your full names and date of birth, please?" Pablo blinked, slightly caught off guard, yet he quickly responded, "Pablo Garcia, April 9th, 1996." Jack followed right after with his own details. The soldier nodded, tapping something on his tablet, then looked up, satisfied.

"Alright, you're clear. We'll be taking you up to the site now. Follow me."