Reincarnated with a lucky draw system

Chapter 425: PHASE TWO II

Loki took control as usual, creating the simulated battlefield with a wave of his hand.

The god’s eyes sparkled with mischief from the VIP platform, fingers weaving intricate patterns in the air.

Illusions bloomed outward, a vast expanse of shifting terrains: dense forests where leaves rustled with hidden dangers, jagged canyons echoing with phantom winds, urban ruins crumbling under simulated decay.

The air filled with the scents of pine, dust, and rust, the illusions so vivid that participants felt the crunch of gravel underfoot, the chill of fog on their skin.

The battlefield expanded, a galaxy of deception ready to test the survivors’ mettle.

The battlefield this time was different from the last, vast, layered, and deliberately cruel in its design.

Loki had stretched the illusion across several simulated galaxies, a sprawling cosmic maze of nebulae, asteroid fields, derelict space stations, and ruined planetary surfaces.

Hidden enemies lurked in every shadow: cloaked assassins in asteroid crevices, elite guardians patrolling derelict corridors, monstrous constructs buried beneath cratered moons.

Obstacles were everywhere, gravity wells that could crush the unwary, electromagnetic storms that scrambled sensors, collapsing structures rigged to detonate on approach.

The scale alone was meant to break the weak; the hidden threats were meant to break the rest.

Phase two was point-based, pure and merciless.

Every slain enemy granted points scaled to its strength—low-tier drones worth a handful, mid-tier elites worth dozens, and rare boss-class constructs worth hundreds.

Cooperation was permitted; points could be shared among allies who contributed to a kill.

But the system rewarded solo dominance far more generously. It turned the trial into a brutal game of luck and skill.

Luck determined your starting location: a barren asteroid belt with only fodder enemies versus a derelict flagship crawling with high-value targets.

Skill determined whether you survived long enough to capitalize on it.

Could you defeat the enemy worth high points, or would you be unlucky enough to be eliminated by one that outmatched you? The disparity showed exactly how valuable skill truly was in this arena.

The competition began with a low, resonant chime that echoed through every participant’s mind. Aaron, of course, had both skills and luck in excess.

"Hmm?" he muttered in amusement, finding himself standing before a conspicuous but grand building that screamed enemy base from every angle.

Towering obsidian spires rose into a simulated starfield, flanked by floating defense platforms bristling with automated turrets.

Massive double doors of blackened alloy stood half-open, spilling cold blue light from within.

The structure radiated menace and importance, the kind of place that housed the highest-point target in this sector.

Back on the VIP platform, Nick leaned forward, eyes narrowing.

"I know you are friends with him," he said to Loki, voice low and edged with accusation, "but helping him like that should have been avoided, god of mischief."

Seeing Aaron teleported directly to the area where the boss enemy resided, instantly, no travel time, no random scatter, made him deeply suspicious of interference.

Loki raised both hands in mock surrender, a lazy grin spreading across his face.

"No such thing, Governor. Need I remind you I only created the illusion battlefield and that’s all. The rest of the duty, placement, enemy distribution, point allocation was handed to your people to handle."

Nick’s jaw tightened. "So you are saying that was all his luck?"

"Indeed," Loki replied, his wry smile widening. "It seems he’s one heck of a lucky guy."

Back on the battlefield, Aaron simply shrugged his shoulders.

With Black Sphere in his hands, this time reshaped into the sleek, heavy form of a desert eagle, he made his way toward the grand building.

The weapon felt solid, perfectly balanced, the grip cool against his palm even though none of it was real.

[Desert eagle? Seriously?]

"Just for the fun of it," Aaron replied mentally, lips curving slightly. "Besides, I have pretty good eyes."

He forced the massive doors open with a single push of his shoulder.

The alloy groaned as it parted, revealing a cavernous hall lit by pulsing conduits along the walls.

The air inside carried the faint metallic tang of recycled atmosphere and the low thrum of hidden machinery.

Raising the desert eagle in a casual two-handed grip, he fired a single shot toward his three o’clock, toward a patch of shadow that had twitched a fraction too deliberately.

"Urgh!"

A choked groan echoed from the darkness.

A cloaked figure staggered forward, clutching a smoking wound in his chest before dissolving into pixelated light.

Beep!

Points awarded flashed across Aaron’s vision.

"Tch. Why didn’t I think of this all along?" he muttered, beginning to genuinely love using the desert eagle.

The weight, the recoil, the sharp crack of each shot, it felt satisfying in a way the broad sweeps of a sword never had.

"Brave of you to come alone to our base," a voice said from deeper inside the hall. "You won’t be leaving here alive."

One of the enemies stepped into the light, clad head to toe in matte black tactical armor, face obscured by a featureless helmet with a single glowing red visor.

He carried a long, curved sword in a reverse grip, stance low and coiled.

"Oh?" Aaron thought, his estimation of Loki rising even further.

"They can talk. Finally found someone that will give Dream a run for her money."

The enemy, galactic-rank, judging by the aura of restrained power rolling off him launched forward without another word.

His sword flashed downward in a vicious arc aimed to split Aaron from crown to groin.

"You remind me of someone," Aaron muttered to the charging man, his face twisting in displeasure. "I don’t exactly want to remember."

"Shut up and just die!" the man roared, blade screaming through the air.

Aaron didn’t move.

He simply raised the desert eagle, sighted down the barrel with casual precision, and squeezed the trigger once.

The report echoed like thunder in the vast hall.

The black-clad enemy’s helmet snapped backward as the round punched clean through the visor. He staggered, sword clattering to the floor, then dissolved into light.

Beep!

High-value points flooded in.

Aaron lowered the pistol, exhaling through his nose.

"Too easy," he murmured, already turning toward the deeper corridors where more powerful signatures waited.

Behind him, the grand doors groaned shut on their own, sealing the hall once more.

The real fight was just beginning.