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The Alpha’s Game Novel Cover

The Alpha’s Game

After a fatal crash, a family enters a lethal werewolf world to earn their resurrection. To return to life, they must secure a Blood Oath Token from a sadistic Rogue King. While Chloe attempts to manipulate the Alpha by mimicking his lost love, bloodthirsty Spectators watch the broadcast with mockery. The family soon discovers this is no fluffy romance; it is a brutal survival game where even a Fated Mate is not safe from the Alpha’s blade.
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Chapter 2

Before we could recover from the horrific sight of Chloe’s death, the System’s cold, mechanical voice blasted again.

[Next Round Countdown: 29:59]

We had exactly thirty minutes to select the next batch of family members for the trial.

But we still didn't have a clue how to conquer the Alpha.

Those blood-red numbers pulsed in mid-air, looking exactly like a countdown to an execution.

Uncle David broke.

He was a simple, honest accountant in his former life. Now, he rushed the holographic screen like a madman, screaming at the void.

"What the hell do you want from us?! We’re just ordinary people!"

"This is murder... you’re livestreaming a massacre! I’m calling the police! I want a lawyer!"

The System remained silent. Only the countdown continued its ruthless tick.

"I quit! Fck this rebirth crap! I want to go home! Let me go back!"

David screamed hysterically, turning to run toward the deep mist at the edge of the space.

The System finally reacted.

[Detected Player David attempting to forcibly exit the trial.]

[Warning: Your physical body in the real world is dead. Exiting midway equals soul obliteration.]

[Confirm exit?]

The surrounding family members cried out, begging him, "David, don't be rash! Come back!"

But fear had already shattered his sanity.

"Confirm! Just get it over with!"

As soon as the words left his mouth, there was no lightning, no blade.

David’s running body suddenly froze in place.

Then, it looked as if a pair of invisible, giant hands grabbed him by the head and feet.

Rrrrip—

A tooth-aching tearing sound echoed through the space.

Right in front of everyone, he was torn into pieces alive.

Blood and viscera splashed down like rain, drenching Aunt Isabella, who was standing closest to him.

Isabella froze for two seconds, then let out a scream that pierced our eardrums.

"Ahhhhhhhh—!"

The chat instantly erupted. The so-called "gods" were in a frenzy of delight.

"Nice shot! 10/10 for the gore."

"That’s a Rogue’s fate. Cowards don't deserve to survive in the werewolf world."

"Heehee, that Alpha has caught the scent. The hunt is just getting started."

I bit my lip hard, tasting rusty blood.

Watching the chat treat us like ants to be toyed with, I felt a wave of nausea.

These were the "gods."

They were no different from that tyrannical Killian.

Seeing that no one else dared to make a scene, the System spoke again.

[Please select the next batch of participants before the countdown ends.][If there is no response, half of the remaining survivors will be randomly obliterated.]

The shadow of death loomed over everyone.

People were trembling, their eyes darting around, afraid to look at one another.

The System notification continued:

[Current Deaths: 3 (Chloe, Mike, David).]

[Inherited points have been distributed evenly.]

[Spend 5 points to purchase "Death Playback"?]

We needed to know how they died. Especially Grandpa, who had entered with Chloe.

Grandpa was the backbone of our family, a respected judge before he retired.

He had chosen the identity of the Chief Enforcer.

We thought that with his wisdom and the laws of that world, he could at least keep that crazy Alpha in check.

We pooled our points and bought the Memory Fragment.

The holographic projection unfolded.

It was Grandpa’s perspective moments before his death.

Inside the magnificent Wolf Council Hall, Killian sat lazily on a throne draped in wolf pelts.

Below him sat the Alphas of the various subsidiary Packs.

Grandpa, wearing a crisp black robe and holding a scepter symbolizing the law, was righteously condemning Killian’s atrocities.

"Alpha Killian, under Article 7 of the 'Wolf Covenant,' you have no right to execute prisoners of war without a trial! This barbaric behavior must cease immediately!"

Killian looked as if he had heard the world's funniest joke.

He slowly stood up. His massive, oppressive frame instantly cast a shadow over Grandpa.

"The law?"

Killian tilted his head, his scarlet eyes filled with mockery.

"In this world, only the weak beg for the protection of the law."

"And I... am the law."

In the next second, Killian moved.

He was so fast he was barely a blur.

A large hand clamped directly onto the back of Grandpa’s neck.

Crack!

The crisp sound of bone fracturing echoed through the hall.

Right in front of everyone, Killian crushed Grandpa’s spine like a dry twig, and then—

He twisted his head clean off.

In the recording, Killian tossed Grandpa’s body off the dais casually, wiped his hands, and said coldly:

"The next person who tries to suppress me with rules will end up just like him."

The screen cut to black.

Our family looked like ashes.

The "Savior" emotional route: Dead.

The "Loyal Consigliere" rules route: Dead.

Killian was a demon who couldn't be reasoned with! He didn't need love, and he didn't follow rules!

"It won't work..."

I muttered in despair. "He's crazy. He's invincible. We're all going to die here."

"No, there is a chance."

A calm voice cut through the panic.

It was Cousin Alice.

She was a Ph.D. in Sociology from Harvard, the smartest person in our family.

She pushed up her glasses. Although her face was pale, her eyes were incredibly steady.

"Did you guys notice? The ones who died in the first batch all chose 'high-profile' roles."

Alice analyzed, "Whether it was the White Moonlight or the Consigliere, those identities were too conspicuous. They walked right into Killian's line of fire."

"Killian loathes betrayal, fake rules, and anyone trying to control him."

She pointed to a corner of the chat log.

"Look here. One comment said: 'Killian has never killed the Omega servants in the castle because he feels killing bugs would dirty his hands.'"

I paused. "You mean..."

"We need to go low. We need a completely different approach."

Alice took a deep breath. "Since being a big shot guarantees death, we will be the most invisible ants."

"We'll be Omegas. We'll be maids scrubbing floors, stable hands shoveling manure."

"The System has no time limit."

"We can lurk by his side and play the long game. We'll use the Omega's natural weakness to lower his guard."

"His past is tragic; he was bullied by the strong. Perhaps... he might have a sliver of empathy for those struggling at the bottom like he once did?"

Hearing her analysis, I subconsciously looked at the chat.

Sure enough, her words sparked a discussion among the "gods."

"Yo, there's actually someone with a brain in this batch."

"True. Killian is brutal, but he never slaughters non-threatening Omegas."

"This 'boiling the frog' strategy is interesting. The one who almost succeeded before was a mute little maid."

But...

That person who almost succeeded still failed in the end, didn't they?

I still felt uneasy.

Where exactly did that mute maid go wrong?

With only three minutes left on the countdown.

Alice spent all her points to exchange for an item called [Camouflage Potion]—it allowed one to perfectly disguise their scent and aura as a wolf Omega.

She was gambling everything.

"No time to hesitate."

Alice looked at us. "I choose the identity: [Castle Laundry Maid (Omega)]. Is anyone willing to come with me?"

In the crowd, my usually silent Second Sister, Sofia, raised her hand.

"Since we just need to be at the bottom... I... I want to try too."

Aunt Isabella also gritted her teeth and stepped forward.

"I'll go too. We're dead anyway, might as well take a gamble."

I tried to stop them. "Alice, it's too dangerous. What if..."

Alice looked at me with a tragic smile.

"Sis, do we really have a choice?"

"As long as there's a glimmer of hope, someone has to be the one to clear the minefield."

In the end, six family members stepped forward.

Three men, three women.

Alice and Isabella entered the inner castle as maids.

My little cousin went to the stables.

The other three chose to be gardeners and low-level Delta patrols.

A flash of light.

They disappeared into the portal.

Leaving the rest of us praying to the pitch-black screen.

Please, survive.

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