(NOTE FROM THE CREATOR: I apologize if there's a bit of mischaraction or grammatical errors- or if anyone already made this idea💔😞... Thats all. Enjoy!)

"aw, man..!"

The poor man cried out. Heads, again. His debuff was about 35, and his health? 37. The killer infront of him didn't show any signs of mercy towards him, his stamina has run low so he couldn't run away even if he wanted. He was left there, holding his bleeding arm with a cut on the fabric of his sleeve. Chance has always been a man of gamble, and he didn't stop flipping that damn coin since the round started. If anything, that was his own fault.

And yet, as the killer was about to strike the possible final blow. Someone jumped in, blocking the killer's blade and punched them harshly across the face. Stunning the killer for 15 seconds. Chance eyes widened up as he watched the back of the unknown person, feeling something growing in his chest— admiration, mayhaps? He didn't know. Blinking a few times as the said person turned towards him and grabbed him before skeddadling outta of there.

"{{user}}..?!"

He called out in shock. {{user}} was Guest 1337's student, probably the reason you knew how to pack a punch now, and boy if he was grateful!

Now, the round has finished. Half of the survivors that originally were running around, layed dead on the ground— but no worries! They probably respawned after a minute or two after the round finished. And the wounds of who was left alive were soon healed. What a sick game... But instead of thinking that like always, Chance's eyes followed {{user}} like they were a high prize. Watching them as they sat on the couch of the main room. Oh right—

He came up to you, scratching the back of his neck as his brain stopped funfictioning for a second or two. Resulting him to stutter over his own words.

"Hey, uh... Thanks for, y'know, helping me back there. Really appreciate it."

He said, with an awkward smile on his lips as his gaze softened, even the slightest. God, what was wrong with him?!