The incident.
Or perhaps I should say the accident.
Also, I don’t think it exactly “happened” right then─it had been “happening” all along. I just happened to realize it was happening at that moment.
I, and only I.
Realized, or rather, saw.
…While our comrade the councilman was locked in battle over some large sum of money whose exact sum I didn’t know, I (pardon me for talking about myself so much) couldn’t keep my mind from wandering as the game dragged on─to be specific, it was my glasses.
The glasses that I wear to protect, rather than correct, my vision─broadly speaking, I suppose they fall into the same category as sunglasses, but anyway, the point is, they’re a type of protection. Armor, if you will.
So I ought to be grateful for them and not depressed about having to wear them, but still, glasses are glasses, and after I’ve had them on for a while, my ears and nose start to get sore─and sometimes I just want a break.
Which is why I took them off, just for a second─although in retrospect, that was a careless act on my part.
Earlier, the leader had told me I could throw down a side bet if I wanted to, but it was still problematic for me─a person unquestionably on Sakiguchi’s side─to employ my preternatural vision as I watched from the floor.
That’s because I was able to see through the cards in Fudatsuki’s hand, which only he was supposed to be able to see─and theoretically, I could have used some sort of sign to communicate the content of his hand to Sakiguchi.
In other words, we could have cheated.
Which means that no matter how bored I was by the game (sorry), I shouldn’t have taken off my glasses in the middle─but.
What I saw when I took them off this time wasn’t the inside of Fudatsuki’s cards─well, I did vaguely see that, too, but I saw something else even more clearly.
Something, or rather…
Someone.
There should only have been three people on stage─Sakiguchi the challenger and Fudatsuki the reigning champion, plus the dealer─but at some point, a fourth person had joined them.
At what point?
Probably before the show even started.
I mean, I can’t imagine this fourth person was waiting for me to take my glasses off before coming on stage─and needless to say, we weren’t talking about a bunny girl here.
To the contrary, in contrast to the eminently visible bunnies, this was a “kuroko”: a black-clad stagehand.
Performance is performance, but this was the kind of stagehand you see in traditional puppet theatre, not casino shows─not like I’ve ever been to a puppet theatre performance, but even I (or anyone for that matter) should know about kuroko.
They do share one thing with the bunny girls, though─their all-black outfits.
Their faces, bodies, hands, and feet are wrapped in cloth─you could call it a full-body dress code meant to symbolize absence or invisibility.
The thing is, this kuroko was present.
And visible. To me, anyway.
“…”
Unable to fully hide my confusion, I looked around─observing not only the members of the Pretty Boy Detective Club but the entire audience, which was still going wild over the tug-of-war on stage, with the full powers of my “vision.”
Not a single person seemed aware of the fourth person on the stage, however─I could tell because none of their gazes were trained on the kuroko.
…Was I the only one who could see this other figure?
Was the kuroko like a ghost─as invisible as air?
Still confused, I looked back at the stage. The issue wasn’t just the presence but the location of the kuroko.
He─or maybe she? I’d assumed it was a boy based on the silhouette, but I myself was evidence that such things could be misleading─anyway, he or she was standing directly behind Sakiguchi.
The kuroko’s position was that of a guardian angel, although of course an angel would be hovering rather than standing, but in any case, no matter how carefully I choose my words so as not to be accused of slander based purely on assumption, the fact is that the kuroko was peering over Sakiguchi’s shoulder at his cards.
And not just that.
After peering at them, the kuroko was signaling─with silent hand gestures─to Fudatsuki where he was seated across the table from Sakiguchi.
I don’t possess the brilliant insight to have actually deciphered the signs, but naturally, it wasn’t hard to figure out that they were meant to communicate the content of Sakiguchi’s hand.
In other words, the kuroko was telling Fudatsuki what cards his opponent held─and Fudatsuki was using that information to decide whether he should bet or fold.
It was the only possible conclusion.
I’m sure it wasn’t quite that simple─Fudatsuki wasn’t necessarily winning every game, and actually, if you went by number of wins alone, Sakiguchi was ahead.
But even with fewer wins, Fudatsuki seemed to have the upper hand whenever a lot of chips were at stake, and in that regard, I had to conclude that he was able to see through Sakiguchi’s bluffs.
See through, or rather, see from behind─which meant that what looked like a close tug-of-war between the two players was really no more than judicious manipulation on the part of the maestro.
Meant to excite the audience.
Which doesn’t sound so bad, when you put it that way, but in truth the game was rigged─because when you know your opponent’s hand, you can manipulate him however you want.
It was probably far easier than engineering that close game of Othello with me earlier.
“Um…”
I brought my hand to my chin, and considered the situation like a detective.
An undefeated overseer with an unbroken winning streak?
A desperate gamble, bringing guests who won too much on stage and then betting everything?
A momentous showdown, with the casino itself on the line?
But with a kuroko employed to peek at the challenger’s cards… I put my glasses back on.
The kuroko vanished.
All I saw was the back wall of the stage.
Just like “Mr. Businessman,” aka Fudatsuki, had vanished on the morning he dropped a million yen─vanished and was gone.
I shifted my glasses down my nose.
The kuroko reappeared.
I pushed them back up.
The figure disappeared.
…I didn’t get it.
This wasn’t just beyond my powers of imagination, it was beyond the bounds of human knowledge.
Still, there was one thing I could say with complete certainty─and after taking a long, deep breath, I yelled it at the top of my lungs.
“This is a scam!”