—

  —

  At exactly 7:00 AM, I stood with my team among the other participants, each group loosely arranged in rows across the wide clearing. In front of us stood the exam supervisor and coordinators, with Marcus beside them.

  Earlier that morning, we had been issued identical backpacks containing the standard supplies. Mine was already strapped to my shoulders. Our uniforms consisted of a white short-sleeved shirt made from ultra-light fabric, one sleeve boldly marked in red, grey reinforced hiking pants, and durable boots built for rough terrain. A utility belt with several pouches, including space for the school-issued tablet, completed the gear.

  Sato-sensei stepped forward, hands clasped behind his back.

  “The special exam is about to begin,” he announced. “I trust that everything is now in order.”

  Conversations died down, and students straightened.

  “Everyone is to keep on the fitness band that has been passed around at all times. Removal during the test will result in penalties.”

  I figured this was the school’s method of tracking our movements and monitoring our vitals throughout the exam, likely a safeguard in case of emergencies.

  Support staff moved down the rows, fastening sleek white bands around each student’s wrist. When one reached me, I extended my hand, and the band snapped into place. I glanced down at it, and it was sleek, minimalist, and surprisingly light.

  But what caught my eye was the small embedded dial on the top surface, which was a small digital compass with a thin red line glowing faintly as it rotated to point north. A small circular frame surrounding the compass face displayed cardinal directions and subtle hash marks.

  So, not just for tracking… this was going to help with navigation too.

  Smart.

  Sato-sensei’s gaze swept the clearing.

  “We will now commence the exam, provided there are no questions.”

  Silence.

  “Very well,” he concluded. “Everyone… begin.”

  I pulled the tablet from my utility belt. Its screen lit up, revealing a clean interface with all tools and functions on a single page, intuitive enough for quick use. My fingers tapped the screen, opening up the map.

  The terrain spanned roughly 400 hectares, according to the manual, enclosed by a clear boundary line and crossing it came with attached penalties.

  Our current location was marked with a soft red dot. None of the other teams appeared, even though I knew several were still within visible distance. What did stand out, however, were two marked points: K and I. I recalled from the manual that these represented locations where we were to establish our base.

  

  Site I was closest to us.

  Around us, teams were already disappearing into the trees. I snapped the tablet back into its pouch.

  “Alright, guys. Let’s move.”

  I stepped forward and took the lead, my team falling into formation behind me. As we began our trek, I allowed myself one last glance back at Marcus, who stood silently among the coordinators. Then I turned my eyes forward and focused on the path ahead.

  I set a steady pace, careful not to burn energy early. The ground was uneven but manageable, and I kept noting any landmarks as I built a mental map.

  Roughly ten minutes later, our bands vibrated, and I checked the tablet again. A notification blinked on the tablet: Entered Site Area – Location I. The site was nothing more than a natural clearing ringed by foliage.

  “We’re here.” I let my pack drop. The others followed. “Let’s get set up.”

  After about fifteen minutes of coordinated effort, the essentials were in place. With the base now established, I took a moment to sit down and study the map on the tablet more thoroughly, this time focusing on the grid system.

  By default, the map was divided into a 5x5 grid, which I felt was slightly too broad for precision movement or pinpoint navigation. Fortunately, I could switch to 10x10 or 20x20, which I made a mental note to use later if needed.

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  Additional features caught my eye as I explored the tablet: custom markers for points of interest, a live latitude and longitude reader for exact positioning, and an input box for manually entering coordinates, which was an odd inclusion that hinted we might need that level of precision later.

  With the base established, I took a short walk to survey the surroundings. From my pacing and observation, it became clear that the site spanned roughly 100 by 100 metres. As I circled the perimeter, the faint sound of running water reached my ears.

  Following it, I found a small stream about 150 metres away, winding through the forest. Access to fresh water meant one less thing to worry about. I crouched by the edge, watching it trickle over smooth stones, and briefly considered whether it widened further downstream. It might’ve led to a larger water source, but tracking it would require a longer trek, and I wasn’t ready to spend that kind of energy just yet.

  Satisfied with what I’d discovered, I turned and made my way back to camp. When I returned, my team was already seated in a loose circle near the tents.

  “Alright, everyone,” I said. “Let’s talk strategy.”

  “First, we need to keep our site hidden as long as possible. If we do, we lower the risk of our totem being stolen.” I gestured over my shoulder to the object behind me.

  The totem stood about 30 centimetres tall, its cylindrical body covered in sleek geometric panels that gave it a futuristic, almost mechanical look with a sturdy hexagonal base. Weighing around two kilograms, it had a matte black finish and at its centre, a translucent orb pulsed softly with a faint glow, likely housing the transmitter and power source.

  “I get that,” Amara said. “But if someone finds us, we’ll need someone here to defend it.”

  “True, but avoiding detection is safer,” I replied. “I’ll leave camp occasionally, but I won’t wander too far. I’ll run regular scans for nearby movement.”

  Tylan crossed his arms. “Yeah, but what about teams using location masking? It lasts two hours, right? Long enough to slip past a scan entirely.”

  He was right, and it was something I’d been mulling over since I saw that feature in the manual. If someone clever like Tomiko or Natsumi exploited it, we’d be blind for hours.

  Kamaye raised her hand. “I might have an idea. If we know when someone’s using location masking, we can prepare.”

  “Go on,” I said.

  “This method isn’t perfect, but we could monitor the number of people showing up on the map. There are thirty participants total, and a full map scan should show all of them. So, if the scan shows fewer people than expected, that’s a clear sign someone’s hiding with location masking.”

  I had thought along similar lines, but this reinforced the idea that we’d need to run frequent scans, maybe every hour or two, to avoid blind spots.

  Kamaye continued, “The interesting part is the wording in the manual—it says the feature That implies that only one person in a group can use it at the same time. It can’t be stacked.”

  The realisation clicked.

  “She’s right,” Priya said, echoing exactly what I was thinking.

  “It means we could turn it to our advantage,” Kamaye added with a shrug.

  Using that limitation to our advantage sounded promising, but it didn’t fully solve the problem.

  Maybe we could try this...

  “We’ll run both nearby and full map scans regularly,” I decided. “Over time, I’ll start noticing patterns in the behaviour.”

  Tylan eyed me. “And how do you plan to do that?”

  I gave a faint smile. “Don’t worry about the details. I’ll handle it.”

  Even though we were teammates, I knew that by day three, one of us would be swapped out. Revealing everything now could backfire if someone decided to use it against me later.

  Kamaye chuckled. “Diya-senpai is a meanie.”

  I laughed, then shifted focus. “There’s a stream about 150 metres southeast. Collect water and sterilise it before drinking—”

  I stopped mid-sentence as a sudden flash on the tablet caught my eye. A green circle had appeared in the northeast region of the map. It was unlabelled, but the meaning was clear.

  It was a blip.

  I tapped the screen, brought up the ruler tool, and measured the diameter, which was about 300 metres. There was no timer or indication of how long it would last, so I’d have to keep track manually.

  “We’ve got a blip,” I announced. The team shifted, eyes on me. “We’re not heading straight for it, but it’s time we spread out.”

  They nodded, and I studied the map. Spreading out was the most efficient way to intercept and secure as many blips as possible; hence, strategic placement was key. As I planned, I factored in each team member’s physical and spatial intelligence.

  “Priya,” I said, making her jump.

  “Yes?”

  “I need you to head northeast,” I said, turning the tablet so Priya could see the general area I had marked.

  “Got it.”

  “Tylan,” I continued, shifting the map slightly, “you’re covering the northwest sector. Hug the interior so you can pivot if needed.”

  He nodded. “No problem.”

  I looked up, meeting the eyes of the remaining two. “Kamaye, southeast. Amara, centre.”

  Amara hesitated. “You’re covering this region yourself?”

  “Trust me.”

  She sighed, lips pressing into a line before looking away. “If you say so,” she murmured.

  “Everyone, clear the camp,” I said, clapping my hands. “Grab walkie-talkies and be ready in two minutes.”

  The team dispersed instantly. Tablet in hand, I scanned the terrain for blind spots before moving to a thicket ten metres away. Parting the foliage, I slipped the totem into a shallow depression, covered it with ferns and bark, then brushed dirt and leaves until it blended perfectly. One last glance, then I turned back.

  By the time I returned, the camp was gone. The others were already gathered and waiting.

  “Be careful and report any activity.”

  They nodded.

  “Move out.”

  One by one, they left. Soon, I was alone.

  I lifted the tablet, watching the map update in real time as their markers spread outward like spokes on a wheel. This special exam was turning out more complex than expected, and I welcomed the challenge. As the team leader, the responsibility of steering us to victory rested squarely on my shoulders.

  A smirk tugged at my lips.

  “General Diya,” I muttered, tucking the tablet under my arm as I stepped into the woods, “let’s guide the team to the best path.”