Adek the God of Games had secretly appeared on many battlefields during the Titanomachy. It would be reasonable to assume he’d been part of the demon army, but that hadn’t been the case. He’d taken his pick of prey from either side of the battlefield, then had his fun sending them to hell with his games.
There’d been no end to the soldiers betting their lives on the battlefield during the era of the great war, but they, too, had panicked, quivered, and writhed in agony when face-to-face with death in Adek’s games. Humans who’d thrown themselves into countless battles not knowing when they might die had wept like babies. Adek’s games had been different than fighting, because the rising fear of death was gradual but deliberate.
On the battlefield, the soldiers had experienced a constant state of excitement because of the chemicals surging through their bodies. Much like those around them, they’d had to desperately keep pace with the heat of battle, moving and reacting without much time to spare on thought. They’d fought together with other humans, laying their lives on the line as a unit. All that had inured them to one thing: the fear of death.
In Adek’s games, on the other hand, they’d had to sit around a desk and carefully think about what they’d gotten themselves into. That had forced them to take a good look at reality. The fear of slowly inching closer to their deaths, and the fear that a single mistake would end the game in the blink of an eye. The desk-turned-monster devouring their bodies piece by piece had served to emphasize their plights.
Back in the present, the woman before Adek was unshaken despite having only 20 points left. The monster had devoured most of her body, robbing her of her stamina and leaving her pale, but she didn’t show the slightest hint of fear.
This is so boring, Adek complained to himself. I suppose there are rare cases like hers. Humans who believe in their own superiority to the bitter end.
Among the countless enemies he’d finished off in his ten thousand years, several of them had acted like Isabella. Adek found each instance truly regrettable. These victims followed the efficient strategy they’d established in their minds to the end, and blamed bad luck for their inevitable defeat. In a sense, they were delusional, failing to understand the world around them. People like them made this whole thing pointless. His reason for living was to watch living creatures scramble around in confusion when faced with their own mortality. Calling his games a means to that end would be an apt description. Now, even if he won, it would be a waste if Isabella never showed fear.
There’s nothing I can do about it, though. I’ll just smash her little strategy to bits and finish her off.
In other words, Adek would aim for a direct hit. He’d use the triple damage rule Isabella had suggested to assure her own victory, killing her through the decisive mistake of discarding the card her opponent needed. When he’d finally crushed delusional players in the past, they had at least shown him their fear of death at the bitter end.
“Let’s continue, shall we? All I need to do is find how to quickly go out, so I’m having a pretty easy time,” Adek said as he drew his cards. “Oh, I already have a meld. Lucky me!” he added before placing his meld on the table.
“Most of your opening hands have a meld in them, don’t they? Or have you developed amnesia?” Isabella replied.
Adek couldn’t sense a crumb of anxiety in her voice. Bah, this is so boring. Just you wait, I’ll manage to twist that expression of yours.
✦ ✦ ✦
In his fourth turn, Adek only had two cards left. Oh, this is looking good.
His cards were the jack and queen of diamonds, the ideal hand to wait for a direct hit, because the cards he needed were the ten and king of diamonds, both cards with high values that Isabella would never hold on to when she only had 20 points left.
As for Isabella’s hand, she still had a full set of seven cards. Since Adek only had two cards left, it was likely she would suspect he was waiting to go out and hastily try to empty her hand.
Come on, discard it for me. However, Adek’s wish didn’t come to be.
“I’m discarding the seven of spades, concluding the round,” she said. Since the deck was empty, the round was over.
She didn’t discard it in the end, huh? Adek shook it off, knowing that such things happen. She might’ve noticed that I was one card short of going out in my fourth turn.
Isabella had ended the game with all seven of her cards remaining. Since players had the option to swap a card every turn, the chances of someone being unable to drop even one card on the table were pretty low. Therefore, it was probable that as soon as Isabella had deduced that Adek had been waiting to go out, she’d given up on forming her own melds and avoided discarding the cards that Adek wanted.
This is similar to the strategy known as “betaori” in mahjong, where a player gives up on winning a round and only discards safe tiles to minimize the likelihood of dealing into other players’ hands.
Hmm, I see now. She’s formidable. Even though her skill led her into the delaying-the-inevitable trap, I never imagined she could entrust herself so fully to the probabilities and efficiency she believes in. Adek had met people like her in the past, but their moves in the game had become a little disheveled after they’d been driven into a corner and the endgame lay in front of them.
Hmm... A bit of contrivance will be necessary to get that direct hit.