B W B W

W B W B

B W B W

W B W B

B W B W (Ray is here at this moment) [Mistake]

W B W B

B W B W

W B W B

B W B W [Mistake]

W B W B

B W B W

W B W B

<Start>

…

Ray's frustration simmered as he stared at the broken tile. His mind raced, searching for an answer.

He recalled the pattern that had just failed him.

"Zig-zag pattern was doing right till now, even the black to white on straight worked," he muttered, his eyes darting between the tiles. "Then why suddenly did the pattern change?"

He tried to force his brain to connect the dots, but his mind went blank. The frustration was overwhelming, and for a few minutes, he just stood there, unable to think.

[46:55]

After a moment, he started to recall all of his steps, one by one.

He counted them, tracing his path in his memory. One, two, three… he was now on his eighth step. The number echoed in his mind, and a new thought sparked.

"Could the steps also make a difference?" he thought. The idea that the number of moves mattered, not just the pattern of the tiles, was a whole new terrifying possibility.

"My first step was on black, then I followed the zig-zag pattern, after that was a straight step? This is confusing…."

Ray muttered, his frustration was evident on his words. The math just wasn't adding up.

He had changed the pattern after his first successful step, and that seemed to be the problem. But if his new combination was also right, then why had he made a mistake?

He took a long, shaky breath, and the pieces began to click into place. He recalled his steps again, counting them in his head.

The zig-zag pattern had been going smoothly for seven steps. The mistake happened on the eighth.

"So I changed the pattern on the third step, but the zig-zag pattern was going smooth for seven steps," he thought.

A new theory sparked in his head, a simpler pattern. The game didn't just have one set of rules. It had at least two or even more.

He needed to verify it. He breathed a long, heavy air and decided to choose his next move with this new theory in mind; a grim determination set on his face.

He looked up at the floating digital clock.

[40:01]

Ten minutes were gone, leaving him with only forty.

"Seems like crossing it isn't the most time-consuming part," he muttered, "but using your mind to find out the outcome of your steps."

He took another deep breath and, trusting his new theory, stepped onto the black tile directly in front of him. His increasing heartbeat was proof of the tension, but with the sound of the safe chime, he felt the pressure ease.

[SAFE]

Just like that, he continued, following the same zig-zag pattern from one black tile to another.

He decided to ignore the straight path, which had become more confusing to follow, and stuck to the zig-zag, stepping on black tiles only. He made quick, confident moves and stopped at the fourteenth step.

[SAFE]

[SAFE]

[SAFE]

[SAFE]

[SAFE]

"So next will be the fifteenth step," he thought, "but also the eighth if I follow the seven-to-seven pattern which feels more realistic to me."

Ray stood still, considering the theory for a moment before stepping onto the next tile.

…

W B W B

B W B W

W B W B

B W B W

W B W B

B W B W

W B W B

B W B W (Ray is here at this moment)

W B W B

B W B W

W B W B

B W B W

W B W B

B W B W [Mistake]

W B W B

B W B W

W B W B

B W B W [Mistake]

W B W B

B W B W

W B W B

<Start>

…

According to his latest pattern, the eighth step was a breakdown point where he had to change the sequence.

Without wasting any time, he stepped onto the white tile that was straight in front of him. He stood in serene silence, waiting for the confirmation sound.

[SAFE]

A wide grin spread across his face. His theory was correct. "Now, it becomes so easy," he muttered to himself, his voice laced with pure confidence.

He again followed the zig-zag pattern, moving with swift, sure steps for the next seven tiles.

His mind and body were in sync, his movements fluid.

On the twenty-second tile, which was the halfway point to the end, he changed the pattern again, confidently stepping onto a black tile.

He looked at the digital clock floating in front of him.

[30:35]

"Now that I've grasped the pattern," he muttered with a smirk, "I don't think time really matters." With a newfound calm, he began stepping toward the end.

After that, he didn't stop or look behind. He stepped one after another until he got the final notification.

He sprinted the rest of the way until he reached the final tile.

[Congratulations, you have completed the task in 29 minutes, 16 seconds.]

[You have levelled up]

[Player: Ray]

[Level: 14]

[Health: 100/100]

[Mana: 100/100]

[Skill: Scavenger One]

[Passive skill] -Pocket Dimension -Restore -Modification -Search -Lucky one

[Eight hundred thousand coins have been credited to your account.]

[Balance: Seven million, six hundred seventy-two thousand, eight hundred (7,672,800)]

Ray looked at his stats, a sense of quiet satisfaction filling him.

"Finally, level 14," he muttered, a sense of grim purpose in his voice. "Now I can meet the Red Hand."

With that thought, his body dissolved into a wisp of light, and he materialized back into the familiar, bustling atmosphere of the level 11 safe zone.

He was so focused on his next goal that he was oblivious to the fact that his actions had caused a stir.

The rumors he had spread through Tusk and his group had worked too well. Unseen by Ray, the whispers had twisted, mutated, and spread like a plague, dividing the Apex Survival community into two parts.

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