Ghost_Zero was one letter behind.

The prompt appeared: The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog.

Classic. Leo’s fingers danced. T-h-e- space-q-u-i-c-k- —he was ahead. Third place. Then second. He could see Ghost_Zero’s cursor flying across the screen, erasing letters before they fully rendered. It wasn’t human. Each word Ghost finished sent a shockwave, erasing the slowest player’s progress entirely. Elimination.

Two more players evaporated.

Leo’s mind went white. This wasn’t a typing test. This was a gauntlet.

Leo swallowed. He’d only qualified for this tournament by accident, smashing his personal best during a late-night caffeine binge. Now, twenty grand was on the line. So was his pride.

Leo opened his eyes. He didn’t rush. He breathed .