Every week, Brendan is thrown into the deadly arena of early access to fend for himself amid the crafting games and first-person murderthons. This time, he tries to survive The Culling.
When the man with the pink mohawk walked into my tripwire and got his leg trapped, I knew I had him. This creep had been chasing me the whole way down-river, firing arrows at me and harrassing me every step of the way. He pursued me to the arena in the centre of the jungle, where I quickly set up a handful of traps at various entry points. He plodded in and – snap! – gotcha. I ran at him. This was it. Spear up, Brendan. Revenge!
Then I was smashed in the side of the head with a pickaxe. The man’s team mate was still alive.