The Lounge had been designed to look comforting, almost luxurious enough to make people forget what had happened only minutes earlier.

Long tables stretched across the hall, filled with sweets, fruits, meat dishes, warm breads, roasted food, and desserts arranged with the same excess the Capital seemed to enjoy displaying at every opportunity. Trays were replaced the moment something emptied, and drones moved silently between tables carrying drinks and fresh plates as if the death of thirty-three participants had no connection at all to the calm atmosphere being offered now.

For many sector survivors, the food immediately became more important than dignity.

The moment permission to eat was understood—even though no one had formally announced it—many participants moved toward the tables and began eating with little restraint. Hunger won over caution quickly, because for most of them, even the feast earlier had not erased years of eating whatever could simply keep a person alive.

Tansy, Rose, Victor, and Kennedy were no different.

Rose had already gathered sweets and small cakes onto one plate while still chewing something else. Tansy focused more on meat and bread, though she kept glancing around as if half expecting another hidden rule to suddenly appear. Victor held a burger in both hands and ate carefully but quickly, while Kennedy had already taken a roasted lamb leg and tore into it with such force that the meat disappeared in seconds.

To them, this was not greed.

It was honesty.

Because none of them had grown up seeing food offered like this without cost attached.

Tyler stood near them with a plate in hand but ate much less. His attention stayed mostly on the room itself.

He observed the survivors.

At the same time, he noticed something else.

Many of the others were watching Sector 11.

Not casually.

Repeatedly.

Victor noticed it too and lowered his burger slightly.

"Why do I feel like everyone is staring at us?" he asked, voice quieter than usual.

Kennedy bit another piece from the lamb leg and answered before swallowing.

"Well, we’re the only sector where all five survived, boy. Of course we’re the center of attention."

He spoke casually, but the truth behind it was obvious.

Out of fifteen sectors, many had already lost people in the very first game. Some sectors had only two survivors standing here now. Some had three. A few had four.

Only Sector 11 remained untouched.

Victor sighed but did not look relieved.

"We barely survived the first game," he muttered. "We might not survive the next one."

Kennedy immediately nodded while still eating.

"That part is probably true."

Victor visibly flinched.

Before he could respond, another passing participant overheard them, carrying two plates stacked with food.

"Then at least don’t die on an empty stomach," the man said dryly before moving on.

That earned a weak laugh from Rose.

Then suddenly the atmosphere changed.

A female participant near one of the side tables dropped her plate.

The metal tray struck the floor sharply.

She clutched her stomach and bent forward.

"Oh no... my stomach... it hurts..."

The pain in her voice sounded real enough that nearby people stepped back instinctively.

Within seconds, several medical drones descended from the ceiling.

Their movement was fast, precise, and entirely mechanical.

A compartment opened beneath one drone, and a syringe extended automatically.

Tyler’s attention sharpened immediately.

The drone injected a bronze-colored serum directly into the woman’s arm.

The reaction was instant enough to catch his full interest.

"Bronze Med?" Tyler muttered under his breath.

He couldn’t bring the one he got from the sector. He just left those and their copies in Veena and Tansy’s house.

Inside Dr. Dan’s workshop, only bronze-grade medical injections had been available. So he took one. But here, through the partially opened drone compartment, Tyler noticed something more.

Another syringe remained inside.

Silver.

The color difference was unmistakable.

The woman still groaned and held her stomach.

"Ow... it still hurts..."

The drone paused.

Then, without hesitation, the injector arm retracted.

Another mechanical section opened.

This time a weapon emerged.

A short barrel rotated into position and pointed directly at her forehead.

The drone spoke in flat mechanical tone.

"Since participant cannot participate, eliminate."

The woman’s face lost all color instantly.

"No, no—wait! I’m fine! I’m alright! Hahaha... just a little pain—see? I’m standing."

She forced herself upright immediately, laughing too quickly while backing away from the gun.

The drone studied her for two seconds.

Then the weapon folded away.

The medical arm returned.

After scanning her once more, the drones rose and moved aside.

The tension in the Lounge loosened slowly, but no one forgot what they had just seen.

Even illness here could become death.

Several participants shook their heads and returned to eating more carefully.

But Tyler’s eyes remained on the drones.

Quietly, Tyler lowered one hand near his sleeve.

The white fabric shifted slightly as nanobots loosened beneath it, exposing a small hidden syringe containing bronze liquid before sealing again.

Then he looked back toward the hovering drone now stationed near the side wall.

Tyler’s eyes narrowed slightly.

"I wonder if I can upgrade it," he muttered.

The drone remained hovering near the side section of the Lounge, inactive for now, its mechanical sensors dimmed while waiting for another emergency.

That was enough.

Tyler had already begun calculating.

Tyler waited until the attention inside the Lounge settled again.

The fallen participant had already returned to pretending she was perfectly healthy, though her hands still shook slightly every time she reached for food. Most of the survivors were once again distracted by the tables, by hunger, by exhaustion, or by quiet conversations about what the next game might be. Even those who had witnessed the medical drone nearly execute her were slowly forcing themselves back into ordinary behavior, because fear became easier to bear when hidden behind movement.

That was exactly the kind of moment Tyler preferred.

He stepped away from Sector 11 people without attracting attention, moving casually toward the side of the Lounge as though simply looking for another table. His face remained calm, his posture loose, giving no reason for anyone to pay him extra attention.

But beneath the polished white suit, the nanobots had already begun moving.

The edge of his right shoe softened first, the outer material loosening at the front until microscopic silver strands gathered near the tip. Hidden inside that reshaped section was the bronze medical syringe he had concealed earlier.

He did not look down.

He only adjusted his pace slightly.

Then the nanobots acted.

The syringe shot silently from the tip of his shoe, low enough that no one nearby noticed. It slid across the polished floor in a straight line and stopped near the far edge of the Lounge where the light reflected strongly enough to make small objects easy for automated sensors to detect.

Exactly as expected, the hovering medic drone noticed it almost immediately.

Its scanning lens turned.

Then it descended.

The drone moved quickly, lowering itself with mechanical precision until one manipulator arm extended and picked up the fallen syringe from the floor.

No alarm sounded.

The system simply treated it as misplaced medical equipment.

A small compartment beneath the drone opened automatically.

The bronze syringe was placed inside.

The compartment closed.

That was the moment Tyler had prepared for.

Because the syringe itself was no longer truly a syringe.

The outer shell broke apart first.

Then the bronze liquid within shifted.

Both transformed instantly into nanobots.

The false bronze medicine had never been medicine at all —only nanobots arranged into perfect disguise.

Inside the drone’s compartment, the hidden swarm moved fast. 𝒻𝘳ℯℯ𝑤ℯ𝒷𝘯ℴ𝓋ℯ𝘭.𝑐ℴ𝑚

They wrapped themselves around the silver syringe stored inside the drone, covering it before internal sensors could register abnormal motion. Then part of the swarm detached and reshaped into something much smaller.

A screw.

Tiny. Sharp. Rotating.

The improvised drill immediately drove itself into a circuit line near the compartment wall.

One precise puncture just enough damage to interrupt internal balance.

The drone’s systems reacted half a second later.

It twitched once in midair.

Then glitched violently. Its stabilizers failed. The machine dropped.

The impact against the floor produced a metallic crack loud enough to draw attention across the Lounge.

Several participants looked over immediately.

Rose nearly stopped chewing.

Victor straightened in surprise.

Even nearby attendants turned their heads.

Above the control systems monitoring the Lounge, members of the game operations team saw the same event through surveillance feeds.

One technician frowned briefly at the screen.

"Probably some malfunction," he muttered.

No one sounded alarmed.

The Capital trusted its systems too much to fear a single drone failure.

Within seconds, two other drones descended, collected the fallen machine, and carried it away with practiced efficiency. Another small cleaning unit followed behind, wiping the floor so quickly that even the crack left by impact vanished.

The Lounge returned to normal almost immediately.

People resumed eating.

Conversation returned.

No one considered the fallen drone important enough to remember for long.

Tyler waited.

He did not move too quickly.

Only after the drones left did he casually cross the area where the malfunction had happened.

To everyone else, he was merely walking past polished white flooring like any other participant.

But one tile beneath his foot was not entirely floor.

A second thin layer sat above the original tile, so perfectly camouflaged that even direct light failed to reveal it. It had been placed there moments earlier— The same nanobot which broke the drone, flattened into exact color and texture after the drone had fallen.

The instant his shoe touched it, the false tile dissolved.

Silver threads flowed upward.

They merged seamlessly back into the edge of his shoe.

And hidden within that returning swarm was the real prize.

A silver medical syringe.

Tyler continued walking without pause.

The shoe restored itself completely before he reached the next table.