Gianna, Selector 7.

"Liam... I'm sorry." Tears streamed down my cheeks as I gave Liam a faint, bittersweet smile.

My long black hair swayed gently in the wind as I spoke those words.

Liam looked at me in confusion. He opened his mouth, about to say something, but before he could speak, Kent suddenly appeared behind him and struck the side of his neck.

Liam's eyes widened in surprise before his body went limp, and he collapsed unconscious.

I simply stood there and watched it happen without a word.

"Put him on the plane." My gaze turned cold as I gave the order.

"Yes, Ma'am," Kent replied respectfully.

Without hesitation, he lifted Liam into his arms and carried him toward the waiting airplane.

 "Ehhh?"

A voice called out from behind me.

But I recognized it instantly.

"That was the last one, right?" he asked.

"Liam was his name, wasn't it?" he added.

I turned around, and there he was—just as I expected.

Joseph Larson stood a few steps away, wearing the same carefree grin that always seemed to be plastered across his face.

"Why are you here, Joseph?" I asked as I walked past him toward the other plane.

"Nothing special," he replied with a shrug, falling into step beside me. "I just came to wish my fellow Selector good luck."

His grin only widened as he followed me toward my plane.

 "Hey, Gianna, you wouldn't mind giving me a ride to Veritas Island, right?" Joseph asked.

I shot him a sharp glare.

He immediately flinched.

"Haha—just this once!" he said quickly, rubbing the back of his head with an awkward smile. "I promise I won't ask again next time."

I let out a weary sigh.

Sometimes, arguing with Joseph was more exhausting than simply giving in.

"Fine."

His eyes lit up instantly.

"Really? Yay!" he shouted excitedly, looking more like a child who had just received a gift than an adult.

I shook my head in disbelief.

A few minutes later, we boarded the plane. Joseph practically skipped up the stairs while I followed behind at a much calmer pace.

Once everyone was on board, the engines roared to life.

The plane slowly began moving along the runway before accelerating into the sky, carrying us toward Veritas Island.

 "You really have a taste for luxury, Gianna," Joseph said as he leaned back in his seat, glancing around the cabin of my private plane.

The soft hum of the engines filled the silence.

I didn't answer.

My eyes remained fixed on the window as the clouds drifted past outside.

Joseph studied me for a moment before speaking again.

"Hey."

I remained silent.

"Why did you choose them?"

The playful tone he usually carried was gone.

"Aren't they your friends?"

His gaze sharpened.

"Well... except for Liam."

The cabin suddenly felt colder.

"Just a minute ago, you looked at him differently than the others."

I slowly turned my head toward him.

Joseph was no longer smiling.

For once, he looked genuinely serious.

"What are you trying to say?" I asked calmly.

"I'm asking why."

He folded his arms.

"We've both been Selectors long enough to know what this means."

His voice was quiet.

"You didn't choose random people."

I looked away again.

The clouds outside seemed endless.

"They all had potential," I replied.

Joseph let out a dry laugh.

"That's the official answer."

Silence.

"Try again."

My fingers tightened slightly against the armrest.

Joseph noticed.

Of course he did.

He always noticed things he wasn't supposed to.

"You're unusually interested," I said.

"Because you're unusually emotional."

His response came immediately.

The words hung heavily between us.

For several seconds, neither of us spoke.

Then Joseph sighed.

"You cried."

My expression remained unchanged.

"You never cry, Gianna."

The steady drone of the engines seemed louder than before.

"Not when missions fail."

"Not when people die."

"Not even when you became a Selector."

His eyes locked onto mine.

"But you cried for Liam."

I closed my eyes.

A painful memory flashed through my mind.

A boy smiling.

A promise made years ago.

A future that would never happen.

When I opened my eyes again, the emotion was gone.

Buried.

Locked away.

"He'll survive," I said.

Joseph shook his head.

"That's not what I asked."

The cabin fell silent once more.

For several moments, only the steady hum of the engines could be heard.

Then I finally spoke.

"They will be the ones to succeed my plan."

My cold gaze settled on Joseph.

The moment our eyes met, his expression changed.

Joseph immediately became alert.

He had seen that look before.

It was the look I wore whenever I had already decided on someone's fate.

"And when that plan succeeds," I continued calmly, "Veritas's wrongdoings will be exposed."

I tilted my head slightly, resting my cheek against the back of my palm as I stared at him.

"And its Patrons will fall along with it."

The temperature inside the cabin seemed to drop.

For the first time since boarding the plane, Joseph looked genuinely uneasy.

The usual carefree grin on his face faded.

Instead, a small, nervous smile appeared.

"That plan of yours..."

He paused.

"...am I part of it?"

There was a trace of humor in his voice, but it failed to hide the caution underneath.

I looked at him for a moment.

A long moment.

Then I turned my gaze back toward the window.

The answer never came.

Joseph stared at me in silence.

The absence of a response was somehow more unsettling than any answer I could have given.

A bitter smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

"Yeah..."

He leaned back in his seat.

"I figured."

Neither of us spoke again.

Beyond the glass, endless clouds stretched across the sky.

Inside the cabin, silence reigned.

Only the distant roar of the engines accompanied us as the plane carried us closer and closer to Veritas Island.

___________

Several hours later, our plane finally arrived at Veritas Island.

As the aircraft descended through the clouds, the island came into view.

At its center stood a massive circular structure that towered above everything else—a symbol of Veritas's authority and power.

The plane slowly approached the rooftop landing platform located at the very top of the building.

This was the Core of Veritas Island.

The heart of the entire organization.

A place where the ten Patrons, three Hosts, and more than thirty Selectors resided and carried out their duties.

The aircraft touched down smoothly on the landing pad.

A few moments later, the engines powered down.

Joseph stretched his arms as he stood up.

"Home sweet home," he muttered.

I ignored him and stepped out of the plane.

A cool breeze immediately greeted me.

Waiting near the landing platform was a woman with long silver-blonde hair and sharp blue eyes.

She wore an elegant white coat over a formal black outfit, giving her an air of authority that few could match.

The moment she spotted me, a bright smile appeared on her face.

"Gianna!"

Jeannette Robertson.

One of Veritas Island's three Hosts.

And one of the few people I considered a friend.

She walked toward me with confident strides.

"It's been a while," she said.

"Three months," I replied.

Jeannette laughed.

"You actually counted."

"Someone had to."

Her smile widened.

For a brief moment, the tension that had been following me seemed to ease.

Then her eyes shifted toward Joseph, who had just stepped off the plane behind me.

"...And of course you brought trouble with you."

"Hey!" Joseph protested. "That's a terrible way to greet someone."

"It's an accurate way."

Joseph placed a hand over his chest as if wounded.

"I've always treated you with kindness, Jeannette."

"That's exactly why I'm suspicious."

I could feel a headache coming just from listening to them.

Jeannette glanced back at me.

The amusement in her eyes gradually faded.

Instead, her expression became serious.

"You've completed the selection?"

"Yes."

"And the candidates?"

"They've all been secured."

Jeannette nodded slowly.

"I see."

There was something in her gaze.

Concern.

As if she already knew there was more to the story than I was willing to tell.

But being the person she was, she didn't ask.

Not here.

Not in front of Joseph.

Instead, she stepped aside and gestured toward the large entrance leading into the Core.

"The others are waiting."

Her words caused the atmosphere to grow noticeably heavier.

The others.

The Hosts.

The Patrons.

And the Selectors who served under them.

I stared at the towering doors ahead.

Sooner or later, every plan had to begin.

And mine was no exception.

"Let's go," I said.

Without another word, I walked toward the entrance of the Core.

The others followed behind me.

-------

As we entered the room, we were greeted by a grand gathering.

Rows of chairs were occupied by the Selectors, each seated in their designated places. In front of them stood twenty-six additional chairs, reserved for the Top 26 Selectors. Towering above the hall were ten giant screens, each displaying the shadowed silhouette of one of the Ten Patrons. Their identities remained hidden, their presence alone enough to command respect and silence.

At the front of the room were three chairs reserved for the hosts.

Jeannette took her seat in the center host's chair, carrying herself with calm authority.

Joseph walked toward the Selectors' section and sat in the tenth chair.

As for me, I made my way to the seventh chair and settled into my seat, quietly observing the room as everyone prepared for the voting to begin.

Then—

The chamber echoed with laughter.

One after another, the Patrons cast their votes.

Glowing symbols appeared beside the names of the chosen groups on the enormous screens, marking predictions of victory, failure, and survival. To the Patrons, it was less a serious evaluation and more a form of entertainment.

"A complete waste of a selection."

One of the shadowed figures scoffed.

"I give them five days."

"Five?" another replied. "You're far too optimistic."

A wave of amusement spread through the screens.

"They'll be dead before the first month is over."

"Just like the last batch."

"Just like the batch before that."

The laughter grew louder.

Many of the Selectors remained expressionless. They had heard these remarks countless times before. The Patrons enjoyed reminding them of one simple truth:

Everyone eventually died in the game.

Every candidate.

Every champion.

Every hopeful soul is selected for greatness.

Sooner or later, death claimed them all.

One Patron leaned back in their seat.

"You Selectors become attached too easily."

Another nodded.

"You spend years searching for talent, nurturing potential, building expectations..."

Their voice dripped with mock sympathy.

"...only to watch them die."

More laughter followed.

The chamber felt less like a council meeting and more like a gathering of predators discussing prey.

I remained silent in my seat.

Joseph looked equally uninterested.

Even Jeannette simply watched from the host's chair without interruption.

The Patrons continued their amusement.

Until—

A chair moved.

The sound was barely audible.

A simple scrape against the floor.

Yet it was enough.

Instantly, the laughter vanished.

The room fell silent.

Not gradually.

Not awkwardly.

Completely.

The kind of silence that seemed to swallow sound itself.

I looked toward the source.

Gianna had stood up.

The woman herself hadn't said a single word.

She merely rose from her seat.

And somehow, that was enough to silence ten Patrons.

The newer Selectors looked confused.

Some glanced between the screens and Gianna, unable to understand what had happened.

The older Selectors, however, understood perfectly.

Because all of them remembered.

Three years ago.

The same chamber.

The same screens.

The same seats.

The same Patrons.

And the same woman.

Back then, Gianna had stood exactly where she stood now.

She had been younger.

Less experienced.

Far weaker than she was today.

Yet she had done something nobody had ever dared to do.

She had threatened the Patrons directly.

The memory remained vivid in everyone's minds.

A chilling memory.

Not because of her words.

But because of how she had spoken to them.

She laughed.

A strange laugh.

A laugh filled with excitement rather than fear.

As though she had been offered the greatest challenge of her life.

As though the thought of opposing the Patrons genuinely entertained her.

Her eyes had sparkled.

Her smile had stretched wider and wider.

And while standing in the center of this very room, she had declared—

"I'll be the one to destroy you."

The entire chamber had frozen.

Yet she hadn't stopped.

Her laughter had grown louder.

"I'll tear down the Patrons."

Another laugh.

"And when I'm finished..."

Her gaze had swept across every screen.

"...this island will fall with you."

For a moment, nobody had spoken.

Nobody had moved.

The declaration sounded insane.

Completely insane.

And perhaps that was why it had been so terrifying.

Because Gianna sounded like she was having fun.

As though she genuinely intended to do it.

As though she could already see it happening.

Many Patrons had mocked her afterward.

Others had dismissed her as a delusional fool.

But three years had passed.

And things had changed.

Far too many things.

Impossible accomplishments.

Broken expectations.

Carefully laid plans overturned one after another.

Again and again, Gianna had achieved things that should not have been possible.

And with every success, the memory of that declaration became harder to laugh at.

The present returned.

The chamber remained silent.

Gianna slowly lifted her gaze toward the ten screens.

The shadows of the Patrons stared back.

No one laughed.

No one mocked her.

No one even interrupted.

A faint smile appeared on her face.

Not a threatening smile.

Not an angry one.

The same smile that had unsettled everyone three years ago.

The smile of someone who genuinely enjoyed impossible challenges.

She crossed her arms.

Then she spoke.

"Continue."

Her voice was calm.

Dangerously calm.

"What happened?"

Her eyes moved across the screens.

"You were all laughing a moment ago."

The silence deepened.

Several Selectors lowered their heads to hide their expressions.

Even the hosts remained quiet.

Gianna tilted her head slightly.

The smile never leaves her face.

"Don't stop on my account."

Nobody answered.

Not a single Patron.

And for the first time that day, the ones who had been laughing moments before looked far less amused than the people they had been mocking.

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