Rita quickly found something near the shelf that looked like a game joystick. When she pushed it left and right, the falling block moved accordingly. Beside the joystick sat a small square button shaped like a book. Each press rotated the block ninety degrees clockwise. A few other players who recognized the game were trying it too, while those who had never seen such a thing before stared at them intently, watching every move. Rita opened the team channel and began explaining her theory to her teammates, outlining how the game probably worked. It was still just a theory, so no one rushed to act. When their falling blocks lined up perfectly and actually disappeared, the rules became obvious. The design of the arena made sure that every team who figured it out first had their every move observed by all others. The gameplay wasn't complicated. As soon as Rita and the other quick learners confirmed how it worked, the rest of the watching contestants understood too. Now every player's attention turned to the book-shaped monsters jumping and fluttering below. The game seemed playable enough as is, but the glowing blocks above the monsters' heads obviously meant something. Just as she thought that, a sudden grey bar—looking like a wall brick—appeared in the middle of every shelf. Fixed, immovable, dead center. On Rita's team's shelf, the grey block formed a "Γ." It appeared right in the middle, perfectly wedging itself against the T-shaped block falling from above. Even though Rita reacted instantly and shoved the joystick left, the T piece couldn't avoid being caught. The grey block had appeared too suddenly. Now everyone understood what the blocks above the monsters were for. Ninety-nine percent chance they were used to clear these grey bricks. Rita guided the falling piece away from the obstruction and said, "We don't know how often these grey bricks appear. Let's split into three groups. Two people go down and fight the block monsters. If more appear later, two more go. One stays here to control the falling pieces and watch for changes." Quex nodded. "Fine by me." They were all the decisive kind. A few quick gestures and they had a plan. NightFury and Crab formed one pair. Rita and Quex another. Syntax, who could summon undead familiars, would stay solo for now. They'd adjust depending on how fast the fights went. Once they'd agreed, Crab and NightFury headed down first. Rita, Quex, and Syntax exchanged a collective smirk as they watched a watery crab spirit and a sprouting pea plant float beside the shelf. Quex shook her head. "Pathetic. What a disgrace to Twilight Library and Exile Isle." Rita sighed. "No sense of grandeur. And they call themselves seniors." Syntax added dryly, "Small minds, small futures." A round of mockery later, they all gave each other a look of satisfaction. That's what a real team looked like. Once Syntax demonstrated he could handle the controls and clearly understood the mechanics, Rita relaxed a little. They leaned over the rail to watch the chaos below. The central arena was a mess already. Dozens of teams had sent members down to fight the flying books, but the monsters weren't easy to kill. After several minutes, not a single one had been taken down. Worse, the number of monsters hovered at an irritatingly precise range—not quite enough for every player to have one, but enough to keep the arena crowded. There were over thirty-five hundred shelves on the tiers, but fewer than three thousand book monsters below. That left a few hundred players wandering the perimeter, waiting for a chance to steal kills. No one knew whether the reward block would go to the player who dealt the finishing blow or the team that inflicted the most damage. Exactly as Rita feared, five minutes later another grey block appeared suddenly in a new spot on their shelf. This time it was a vertical bar. Rita and Quex immediately jumped down, sprinting into the arena to hunt for a monster with a matching block above its head. Up on the shelf, Syntax bared his teeth as he saw two additional silhouettes—a human-shaped shadow and a little elemental sprite—join him near the joystick. Cold-hearted. Truly cold-hearted. Down below, things were heating up. Monsters were starting to fall, and Crab and NightFury had just finished one off. They sent the intel through the squad channel at once. [Crab]: The block goes to whoever lands the killing blow. Rita and Quex changed direction in unison, heading straight for the nearest monster already bleeding out under fire from another group of students. Rita realized instantly why these things were so troublesome. They were fast, absurdly durable, and switched attributes every ten seconds. Sometimes their lightning resistance maxed out. Sometimes they were immune to physical damage. Sometimes magic did nothing. Occasionally, the nastiest one would appear: "Damage received is converted to double healing." But the most annoying part was that her Nemesis still hadn't triggered. It should have activated the moment they'd both entered the match, just like in the waiting area earlier. She frowned, scanning the crowd of hundreds of students and fluttering tomes—then spotted Maple Syrup among the chaos below. Maple Syrup was looking right back at her. Instantly, Nemesis activated. Ah. So they had to make eye contact. Would've been nice to know that earlier. The skill's power didn't need explaining. They both looked away. Rita charged the monster, dagger flashing, and activated her newly acquired skill—The Wind Doesn't Speak. There was no shortage of wind in the arena. The gust from her blade's swing. The shockwave of spells. The breeze from players' movements. The flutters of book pages in midair. Each tiny current curved and turned midair, all drawn toward her, wrapping around her like invisible threads. One by one, the buffs rolled in. [Strength +5%], [Healing skill effect +2%], [Magic damage +3%], [Movement speed +2%], [Cooldown reduction 2%], [Luck +0.3], [Critical damage +1%], [Lifesteal +1%], [Defense +200]… Each one was weak, but five hundred of them stacked together turned monstrous. Far stronger than what her Waste Guide ever gave after a full day of idling—its S-rank cap allowed only ten buffs at once, no duplicates. This new skill was a gem. And unlike Crab's version, it didn't ring those annoying wind chimes every time. But sharp minds abounded here—especially ones like Quex, whose race was born in tune with the weather. She bared her fangs. "What did you take from me?" Rita answered with a straight face. "Happiness." Quex stared. "You've got some nerve calling me antisocial. Do you even have friends? Oh, right—sorry, I forgot. You don't." Fat Goose happened to be passing nearby, chasing a half-dead book monster, and shouted at once, "Mistblade starts something and drops it!" Motor echoed him loyally, "Mistblade starts something and drops it!" Rita spun mid-attack, stabbed Fat Goose with her dagger, and kicked Motor in the ribs. "Get lost!" Thɪs chapter is updated by 𝗻𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗹·𝗳𝗶𝗿𝗲·𝗻𝗲𝘁