Chapter 13

(0/11) Yuki awoke to a knock at the door. (1/11) Yuki always woke up late at the beginning of a game. As a way to obfuscate the location of a game, the organizers would put players under with a sleeping pill while the players were en route to the venue, and that pill was consistently—and unusually—effective on Yuki. Despite having gone through the process on forty-four occasions, she did not see any signs of improvement regarding her body’s reaction to the drug. This time, Yuki had once again slept as soundly as a college student who had only just recently begun living alone. However, being in a state of slumber did not mean Yuki was completely defenseless. Even while asleep, Yuki was always subconsciously on guard. She would certainly awaken to any noise around her, and that went doubly true for the sound of knocking on a door—a noise that was meant to be heard. Yuki sat up. She was inside a wooden room around the same size as a classroom of the night school she attended. Wood planks enclosed the space on all sides—the floor, the walls, the ceiling. The place was equipped with ordinary kitchen, bath, and shower facilities, along with ordinary pieces of furniture, including a refrigerator, a dresser, a desk, a sofa, and a rug. While staring at the wooden-framed bed in which she’d woken up, she began to wonder how one would refer to such a room. Was it a log cabin, a boardinghouse, or a villa? Or perhaps it was a lodge or a cottage. After settling on the word cottage, she immediately perceived that the structure was built near the sea, from the roaring of waves and the gorgeous blue hue of water visible through the window. Yuki had awakened to the sound of knocking on a door. —At least, that was her assumption. Since the noise had occurred at the instant of her rousing, she wasn’t certain that had been the sound’s source. However, a short while later, another more forceful knock came at the door, one that conveyed a clear intention to wake the person inside. Evidently, the first knock had not been an auditory hallucination. Someone had to be standing outside. Yuki had no way to determine if they were her enemy or her ally, but the only way forward was to see who it was. She got off the bed and walked over to the door, which was also made of wood. Giving some consideration to the possibility that the knocker would come bursting through with a loaded gun the moment she let them in, Yuki opened the door. Standing there was— “Huh?” “Huh?” The voices of both Yuki and the person who knocked on the door perfectly overlapped. Standing there was Airi, a girl with beautiful indigo eyes and an aura of melancholy. Like Yuki, she was a survivor of Candle Woods. The two of them had just run into each other a month prior. “…Hey,” Yuki said, offering the same greeting from their previous encounter. “…We meet again,” Airi replied. Unsure how to respond, Yuki took a good look at Airi. The girl’s porcelain skin was on full display. She was wearing a swimsuit, an off-the-shoulder affair that seemed like it would come off with a gentle tug. Her feet were neither bare nor in sandals, but rather covered by a pair of beach shoes extending all the way to her toes. “Um… You look cute in that,” Yuki said. Airi touched her swimsuit and made a sour face before saying, “The same goes for you.” Only then did Yuki realize what she was wearing. Her garments were different from Airi’s—they were made of a snug material that covered no more than a tenth of the total surface area of her skin. For this game by the sea, the outfit was a swimsuit. (2/11) A gentle light poured down on Yuki as she stepped out of the cottage. She was on a beach. White sand and blue ocean stretched as far as the eye could see. Away from the water, the land was covered with nature, bursting with a vivid green that was as striking as the colors of the sand and ocean. Yuki had never been to a resort area before, so she had only seen this kind of scenery in photos. The sky overhead was covered with light-gray clouds. Since the game had only just started, it was probably sometime in the early morning. The cottage had been built on stilts in shallow water. Yuki followed Airi and, after sloshing through seawater that reached her ankles, stepped onto the shore. The two girls walked along the water’s edge. Yuki’s was not the only cottage on the beach. There were eight in total, evenly spaced out in a single horizontal line. Yuki had been made to sleep in the far-right cottage facing the water. Airi pointed two cottages over, at the cottage third from the right. “That one’s mine. I imagine each cottage has been assigned to a single player.” “Which would mean a player count of eight…,” Yuki said, verbalizing the number of cottages. Airi then gestured at the cottage two to the left of hers. “That one is assigned to a player by the name of Koyomi. Have you met her before?” The name was unfamiliar to Yuki, so she shook her head. “She and I woke up rather early,” Airi continued. “I was wandering around the beach when I ran into her. We decided to split up and wake the other players… Oh, there she is now.” Airi was looking at the leftmost cottage, from which two players had just emerged. They were specks in the distance, so Yuki couldn’t make out their faces, but judging by how much of their skin was visible, she concluded they, too, were wearing swimsuits. The two of them were headed for the next cottage over. “Koyomi and I decided she would work her way over from the left, while I would start from the right. We should hurry, too.” Airi increased her pace, and Yuki followed suit. After a few minutes of walking, they reached the second cottage from the right. The door swung open moments after Airi knocked on it, suggesting that the cottage dweller had already been awake. The girl who opened the door appeared to be around elementary school age. She had on a one-piece swimsuit, which was fitting for someone so young. Her expressionless face brought to mind the image of a doll, and her absent-minded aura made it seem as if she could float away right then and there. “H…hello,” Airi said to the girl. “Nice to meet you. My name is Airi.” The girl stared at Airi with a gaze so intense that Yuki half expected laser beams to fly out of her eyes. Shortly thereafter, she turned to Yuki. Using the opportunity to introduce herself, Yuki said, “I’m Yuki.” “Hizumi.” After that brief utterance, the girl fell silent. Hizumi—was that her player name? She didn’t seem to be much of a conversationalist. She was the epitome of a peculiar girl. Although this was Yuki’s first time meeting Hizumi, she had met similar girls countless times before. As the death-game industry brought together outcasts of all stripes, encounters with players like her weren’t rare. Airi told Hizumi about wanting to gather everyone together and asked the girl to join them. Hizumi nodded and tagged along behind Airi and Yuki, albeit with staggering steps. The party of three marched onward and passed straight by the next cottage, which was Airi’s. When they reached the cottage after that, Yuki came across a second familiar face. “Whoa…” Airi was clearly overawed by the player who ducked down when passing through the doorframe. It was Maguma, a giant of a player whose large body towered higher than even the cottage door. Like the other three, she also had on a swimsuit; hers exposed her toned muscles for the world to see. Although Yuki didn’t voice her reaction as Airi had done, she felt similarly daunted at the sight of the woman’s body, much to her chagrin. Yuki knew that if she got into a brawl with Maguma, she would be turned into mincemeat in three seconds flat. “What is it?” Maguma asked, staring at Airi. Airi averted her gaze from Maguma’s abs, which were so cut that one would likely not tire of them even after rubbing them for an entire day. “Oh, nothing,” Airi blurted out. “We were hoping to get everyone together, so could you come with us?” Maguma agreed, increasing the size of their party to four. Once they stepped back onto the shore, they spotted another group of four—presumably consisting of Koyomi and the players she had woken up—walking in their direction. Koyomi was out in front, and she looked over at Yuki’s team before pointing to the cottage directly next to her group. It was the fourth cottage from the left, the one assigned to Koyomi. Shortly afterward, the girl led her team inside. Apparently, that was going to be the gathering place. Yuki’s group headed for Koyomi’s cottage as well. As they walked over, Yuki said, “Hey, Maguma?” “Yeah?” “What game is this for you?” “Number forty-three. I’ve cleared forty-two.” Upon hearing that number, Yuki curled her lips into a smile. “This is my forty-fourth.” “Seriously? Dang, you overtook me.” A frustrated expression formed on Maguma’s face. Although Yuki wasn’t one to believe that a higher game count made someone superior, she still felt a tinge of joy. “Even Airi there has crossed thirty.” Yuki turned to look at Airi, who was walking out in front. “I know,” Maguma responded. “I was with her for her thirtieth.” “Wait, really?” So this isn’t your first time meeting…, Yuki thought. “It was rough going,” Maguma continued. “We were in a mountain villa on a snowy peak, and we had to battle against a short and stout abominable snowman. Beating the game wasn’t hard, but that was when the problems started. Our agents couldn’t reach us ’cause of an unexpectedly strong blizzard. We held out fine for a while, but three or four days later, food and water were running low. By the end, we were fighting one another to the death over provisions. I’ve witnessed ‘number thirty’ for a bunch of players, but never a game like that. That girl was born under a strange star.” “Ah… I get what you mean,” Yuki said, concurring with Maguma’s opinion. “Something similar happened in our game together. She’s a survivor of Candle Woods, you know.” Maguma looked startled. “You serious?” “Yep. It was apparently her first game, and she was on the Stump Team…the one that started at a disadvantage. Still, she managed to survive. I think she’s the kind of girl who finds herself in tough crises but always sticks it out.” “She’s got the devil’s own luck, huh?” At that point in the conversation, Airi turned around, directing her gaze at Yuki and Maguma. Her eyes were free of anger or hostility, but they did convey a message: Would you please stop? The two acquiesced. “Another game with three players who have crossed thirty…,” Yuki remarked, changing the subject. “Nope. There’s four,” Maguma said. “Didn’t you see? Essay was part of that other team.” Essay—a girl with fluffy hair and the aura of a scholar. The last time she and Yuki had met, she had already cleared her forty-fourth game, which meant she had a higher record than both Yuki and Maguma at the moment. Apparently, she was in the other group of four. Since there had been quite some distance separating them, and since the girl didn’t stand out much, Yuki had overlooked her. “If there’s four of us already, there could be others, too. How ’bout you, squirt?” Maguma glanced over at Hizumi, the peculiar grade-schooler. However, the girl not only remained silent but also refused to even make eye contact, instead looking away. Seemingly giving up on communicating with Hizumi, Maguma then turned to Airi. “How about Koyomi?” “I didn’t ask about her game count…but there’s no doubt she’s been a player for a fair amount of time.” “They sure aren’t making this easy on us.” At least four of the eight players had cleared more than thirty games. Whether that should be interpreted as reassuring or frightening was still up in the air. If it turned out to be a competitive game—a game revolving around conflict among players—that would mean the girls would have to fight against seasoned veterans over limited spots to survive. A player with the devil’s luck who thought nothing of Candle Woods and the Wall of Thirty. A player with a body so brawny that one would be ready to admit defeat the moment they faced off against her. It was possible Yuki would have to battle them to the death. (3/11) As she had done with the others, Airi knocked on the door to Koyomi’s cottage. “Come in,” came a reply from inside. The voice sounded rather hoarse, as if it belonged to a woman who was getting up there in years. Was there really a player like that in the other group? And even if there was, would they really be able to join such a dangerous game? Regardless, the door was unlocked, so Yuki’s group entered the cottage. The interior featured the same design as that of the cottage where Yuki had woken up. Four players were sitting around a table in the center of the room. Among them was a player Yuki knew—Essay. Maguma had been right; Essay was there, with her trademark cotton-candy-like hair and her calm, scholarly expression. Layered on top of her swimsuit was a gown, which very much resembled a lab coat. The other three players were unfamiliar to Yuki. One of them was drinking a bottle of ramune soda that had likely come from the fridge, another was acting awfully skittish, and the third emanated a strong, elderly aura. “Sit,” said the older woman. Her voice matched that of the hoarse reply from earlier. Yuki, Airi, Hizumi, and Maguma each sat down at an open spot around the table. “Why don’t we start by introducing ourselves?” Yuki had met three of the other seven in past games. And judging by the demeanors of the others, she figured they also had some degree of connection with one another. However, because mapping out a relationship diagram would be too much of a hassle, the group followed the accepted custom of introducing themselves. The late arrivals—Yuki’s group—agreed to go first. Yuki shared her player name, along with the fact this was her forty-fourth game. Maguma stated, as she had to Yuki earlier, that this was her forty-third game, while Airi revealed it was her thirty-third. Yuki expected to also learn of Hizumi’s game count, but like when they had first met, the girl mumbled only her name and nothing else. Then it came time for the other four to speak. “I’ll start us off,” said the woman with the hoarse voice. “My name’s Koyomi, and this game is my twentieth. Nice to meet you.” Koyomi gave off the impression of being remarkably old. Appearance-wise, she looked to be in her twenties. She was the very picture of a healthy young woman—her skin lacked any wrinkles, her hair was free of gray, and there was none of that characteristic old-person smell wafting around her. Yet, for some odd reason, she had the aura of an extremely elderly woman. Yuki wouldn’t blink twice if someone told her that Koyomi was actually 120 years old and was maintaining her youth by bathing in the blood of virgins. Koyomi’s outfit in the game—a traditional short coat like the kind worn by female pearl divers—suited her quite well. Koyomi turned a pair of inquisitive eyes on Yuki. “You said your name was Yuki? I know all about you.” “…? Have we met before?” “Not directly, no. I’ve heard about you. From your mentor, that is.” Yuki’s heart skipped a beat. Her mentor—player name: Hakushi. A legendary player who had cleared ninety-five games. For a time, Yuki had been learning under her in a mentor-protégé relationship—a common practice in the games. Koyomi claimed to have heard about Yuki from Hakushi. However, Yuki found that odd because— “When did you hear about me? My mentor is, you know…” Hakushi has departed from this world. The woman had died in Yuki’s ninth game—Candle Woods. That psychopath had mutilated her, down to every last rib bone. Yuki had seen the corpse with her own eyes. So how could Koyomi have met with a dead player and heard about Yuki? Alas, no answer came from the woman’s mouth; Koyomi simply grinned and reveled in Yuki’s reaction. Right when Yuki was ready to grill her for more details, Airi nudged Yuki with an elbow. “Yuki, she’s a veteran player,” said the girl with indigo eyes. “What do you mean?” “Apparently, she’s been in the industry since before Candle Woods.” Yuki couldn’t hide her shock. “Nothing strange about that, is there?” Koyomi remarked. “It’s not like every single active player at the time joined that game. Players like me might be a rarity, but I’m not the only one.” “You…didn’t participate in Candle Woods?” “I got a bad feeling when my agent came with the invitation, so I turned it down. I have a good nose for those kinds of omens, you see. That sixth sense is a big reason I’m alive and kicking today.” Koyomi belonged to an older generation of players than Yuki and the others; she was from the pre–Candle Woods era. In which case, it was certainly plausible she had met Hakushi when the latter had still been alive—and it was certainly plausible Hakushi had shared stories about Yuki’s days as a foolish protégé. “Interesting… So you’re that Yuki.” Koyomi giggled, as if finding something funny. Yuki had a strong urge to question the woman about the extent of what Hakushi had divulged, but before she could— “Sorry for the tangent. Go ahead.” Koyomi pointed to the scholarly girl. “I’m Essay,” the player said, touching her fluffy, cotton-candy-like hair. “This game is number fifty for me. Pleased to meet you.” Only Maguma, Airi, and Yuki reacted noticeably to that number. It was perfectly natural for the peculiar Hizumi to be indifferent, while Koyomi and the other two players had likely learned of Essay’s clear count before Yuki’s group had entered. Yuki hadn’t encountered a player since Candle Woods who had reached fifty games. Along with thirty and forty, fifty was a milestone number in her eyes, as it represented the midpoint of her quest to clear ninety-nine games. While Essay had nothing to do with Yuki’s personal goal, the presence of a player who had reached that stage faster than she did inspired both respect and frustration in her. “Mozuku, you can go next,” Essay said. The player Essay had tapped in acted jittery as she introduced herself. “I’m Mozuku. This is, um, my tenth game. Nice to meet you.” The girl lacked any distinguishing characteristics. It was a refreshing sight to see such a nervous player. The attitude was typically the mark of a beginner who had not yet grown accustomed to the games, but if this was indeed Mozuku’s tenth time as a player, she must have been frightened not by the game itself but by the players around her, many of whom were veterans who had cleared thirty games—including the older, muscular woman sitting next to her. “Um… I’m done,” Mozuku said, gesturing to the final player, the one with the ramune bottle in hand. At this stage in the conversation, however, the girl was not only drinking soda. During the others’ self-introductions, she had taken out a pack of takoyaki octopus balls from the fridge and heated it up in the microwave, and she was still munching on the piping hot food. Even after Mozuku had given her the floor, and all eyes were on her, the girl continued snacking away. After making the others sit around until she finished her meal and beverage, she finally introduced herself. “I’m Mitsuba. This is my thirtieth game. Nice to meet you.” A shocking number had casually escaped her lips. The Wall of Thirty—a superstition in the industry. The story went that players would face inconceivable irregularities in and around their thirtieth game that would greatly reduce their odds of survival. Both Yuki and Airi, and most likely Maguma and Essay, too, had struggled as a result of this curse-like phenomenon. Practically every player had heard of it, and Mitsuba was probably no exception. Nevertheless, the girl showed no signs of apprehension. Considering the empty ramune bottle and pack of takoyaki next to Mitsuba, Yuki thought she must march to the beat of her own drum. “Was I the last one?” Mitsuba asked, giving the other players a once-over. The girl then walked over to the refrigerator and, as if her appetite had not yet been sated, pulled out a second pack of takoyaki and set it in the microwave. Staring at the plastic container rotating under an orange light, she continued, “I wonder what kind of game this is. All we have are a beach and swimsuits…and I guess ramune and takoyaki, too.” “Seems to fit the pattern of an escape game,” Koyomi said in her characteristically hoarse voice. “This beach is isolated from the outside world. That’s an escape game setup if there ever was one.” The beach was surrounded by a forest on three sides, and—quite naturally—the sea on the final side. To leave the beach, the players would have no other option but to enter the forest. As Koyomi had stated, the situation fit the traditional template of an escape game. “Regardless, we should start by surveying our surroundings,” Essay suggested. Her authority as a fifty-game player seemed to be exerting its influence, as her words commanded the attention of most of the room. “It won’t be too late to start figuring out the rules after that.” There were no objections. So the players stood up one after another, until only one remained—Mitsuba. (4/11) Everyone but Mitsuba exited the cottage. The group of seven stepped onto the shore and began exploring. The swath of sandy terrain was long enough that a person standing on one end would appear to be a mere speck from the other. The players walked all over the meringue-colored sand, but after failing to find anything of note, they turned their attention to the surrounding trees. The group entered the forest. Since all seven of them were accustomed to the games, nobody showed reluctance to march on ahead in a swimsuit. “Let’s head straight through,” Essay suggested. The group did as she said. If this was an escape game with a goal of making it through the forest alive, it stood to reason that an abundance of traps would await them among the trees. However, it appeared there wasn’t a single one. Although the players could not prove there were no traps, at the very least none of them had sensed a single one, nor had any of them activated a trap and gotten injured. The group continued onward and onward and onward and onward— —until at last, their field of view opened up. “Figures.” The remark came from Maguma. The group stood atop a sheer cliff. The grassy terrain came to an abrupt end, resembling a half-eaten piece of cake. At the bottom of the steep cliff face was the same blue ocean they had seen earlier on the beach. To the left and right, the cliff stretched as far as the eye could see. Although it would be impossible to confirm unless they walked along the edge, it likely continued all the way around to the beach. To summarize, the beach was surrounded by a forest, which itself was surrounded by sheer cliffs. In other words—this entire beach was not connected to land. The players were on a secluded island. “…If this is our situation”—Essay, who always looked as though she was thinking over complicated matters, was now actually mulling over something complicated—“this certainly changes the meaning of ‘escape.’ Maguma, can I ask you something?” “What is it?” “Can you see any land on the horizon?” Yuki instinctively looked across the water upon hearing the question. She scanned the entire horizon, left to right, but failed to spot any signs of land. “Not at all,” Maguma answered, reporting the same thing. “Wanna look from my shoulders?” “Yes, please.” Essay climbed up Maguma’s back and hooked her legs around the woman’s shoulders. The higher the vantage point, the farther away the horizon. That was why Essay had posed that question to Maguma, the tallest of the group, and why she had gotten onto the woman’s shoulders. Their combined heights, minus the length of Essay’s legs, reached approximately ten feet off the ground, but even after the extra boost, Essay climbed down with a glum look on her face; it seemed the effort was futile. “I just want to make sure—did any of you see land while on the shore?” Essay asked. Nobody responded. The answer was obviously no. “The distance to the horizon is around three miles, right?” Maguma asked. “In this case, it would be slightly farther than that,” Essay said. “From on top of your shoulders, my vantage point would have been at a height of about ten feet off the ground.” The horizon exists because the Earth is round, and due to the curvature of the planet, it becomes impossible to see beyond a certain distance. Yuki remembered learning in school that you could calculate the distance to the horizon with a simple application of the Pythagorean theorem. However, before Yuki could turn her superficial knowledge into practical information, Essay beat her to the punch. “That would make the horizon closer to four miles away. Since we’re standing on a cliff, it would be even farther than that. Regardless, it’s no small distance. So if this game is meant to be an escape game”—Essay stared out at the empty horizon—“we’ll have to traverse at least that much ocean.” Four miles away. Yuki tried imagining that distance. The farthest she had ever swum was fifty meters, or around 164 feet, back in middle school. Swimming four whole miles would be the equivalent of swimming back and forth in a fifty-meter swimming pool more than a hundred times. Since her reference point was minuscule in comparison, Yuki had trouble getting a full picture of the situation. “…No way that’ll work,” Maguma commented. “Whether we jump in the water ourselves or build a raft, we have no idea which direction to aim for, so we can’t even set sail.” “You’re exactly right. That’s why, if we assume this is an escape game, there has to be some kind of gimmick. Somewhere around here, there could be a map indicating our coordinates, or a method of communicating with people off the island. Or perhaps…” Essay paused for a second before continuing. “…Maybe this isn’t an escape game at all.” Yuki noticed the shoulders of one of the platers—Mozuku, the hapless girl who had been thrown into a game of elite veterans—twitch at those words. The idea that this was not an escape game but rather a competitive game must have crossed the girl’s mind. Should that be true, the players around her would actually be her enemies. Yuki tried imagining Mozuku’s present state of mind. What if Yuki had, in her tenth game—Scrap Building, if her memory served—been forced to fight players in their thirtieth, fortieth, or even fiftieth games? That feeling could only be summed up in one word: despair. The probability that this distressing scenario would come to pass seemed rather likely at the moment, for on their trek to the cliff, the group had not stumbled upon a single object resembling a trap. Despite being in a death game, they had yet to come across anything that could lead to their deaths—besides, of course, the seven living beings here and the one on the beach, each of which were armed with a full set of limbs. On the other hand, there was a more optimistic way of assessing the situation. Perhaps this was not an escape game or a competitive game, but rather a survival game, like the one Yuki had recently played at an amusement park. For example, it was possible the players would have to endure a hundred days on the island until the rescue ship prepared by the organizers came to retrieve them, meaning the wild environment of an island isolated from the outside world would be precisely what would threaten their lives. And, of course, it was too early to completely discount the group’s initial theory about it being an escape game. Perhaps a bottle containing blueprints for a boat had washed up on shore, and Mitsuba, having discovered it while playing on the beach, was poring over the details at this very moment. Were they in paradise or purgatory? There was only one way to uncover the answer. “Let’s keep exploring,” Essay said. (5/11) The group completed an entire loop around the island but found no passages to land. The island was large enough that it took around an hour to circle the perimeter. Aside from the sandy shore, the rest of the island was covered with trees. The group searched both the perimeter of the island and inside the forest, but they didn’t come across any buildings other than the cottages, nor did they find any man-made items besides surveillance cameras that were used to transmit footage of the game. The players returned to the beach empty-handed. By that time, the sun had already started to set. “Oh, welcome back,” Mitsuba said upon their return. It seemed she had just gone for a swim, as she was carrying a swim ring on her shoulder and her entire body was wet. A trail of water droplets extended behind her on the sand. “…………” Yuki and the others ignored her. After having walked around for hours, they lacked even the energy to chastise the girl for slacking off and having fun all by herself. “Mitsuba,” said Essay, the only one willing to speak to the girl. “Yeah?” “Have you learned anything new about the game?” “Nope, nada. I’ve been around here the whole day, so I’m totally in the dark.” “…………” Essay looked away from Mitsuba and turned her gaze to the scarlet sky. “Shall we call it a day?” she suggested. “The sun is setting, so let’s pick things back up tomorrow.” A sudden breeze blew across the beach. The evening chill set in, assaulting their skin, which was more exposed than usual. “Will we have to sleep in our swimsuits?” Airi asked, hugging herself. “With these outfits, no number of blankets will be enough to fight off the cold.” “Well, there weren’t any other clothes around,” Mitsuba answered. “There were tons of extra towels and swimwear, but not a single piece of normal clothing.” Yuki had figured as much. It was hard to imagine the organizers preparing any clothing besides the game outfit. Since there were apparently extra swimsuits, the most the players could do to take measures against the cold was borrow relatively less-revealing outfits, such as Essay’s gown or Koyomi’s short coat. After agreeing to meet again in Koyomi’s cottage the following morning, the players disbanded for the day and returned to their individual dwellings. Standing outside her cottage door, Yuki noticed there was no lock. The door could always be opened or closed if you applied force to it. Since there was no way to lock the cottage, anyone could sneak in at any time. Yuki entered the building. The same pieces of furniture she had woken up to that morning sat there untouched. One of them caught her eye: a sturdy, five-tiered dresser. She lifted it with both hands and carried it over to the door to use as a barricade. Yuki had not envisioned a specific threat; she was only blocking the door as a precaution. Even if she had no problem with sleeping in a swimsuit, she was not so unflappable as to be able to sleep in a fully unlocked room. Since the door could swing outward, the dresser would not actually prevent someone from opening it, but setting up an obstacle was unquestionably better than having nothing there at all. Afterward, Yuki had dinner. Since a certain someone had been snacking earlier that day, she already knew what was inside the fridge. It was stocked with food and drinks appropriate for the beach, including packs of takoyaki, yakisoba noodles, and bottles of ramune soda. Atop the fridge sat a microwave, which she knew was safe to use to heat up the plastic containers. Because Yuki had been walking around the entire day, her stomach was growling with hunger, but since she didn’t know how many days she would have to stay on the island, she was hesitant to chow down like Mitsuba had without considering the consequences. Yuki decided to stop eating when she was 80 percent full. The food was delicious. After showering, changing into a different swimsuit, and brushing her teeth with the provided toothbrush, she got into bed. She had no intention of falling into a deep slumber. Although she had set up a barricade, she did not think for a second that it would be enough to guarantee her safety. It would only take one strong kick to bring down the dresser, not to mention the windows of the cottage did not seem sturdy by any means. If someone was adamant about getting into Yuki’s room, none of those barriers would be of much use. She had to sleep lightly, in such a way that she could wake up at the first sign of an irregularity. Yuki had acquired the ability to modulate her sleep. That skill was indispensable for games that lasted longer than a single day. Any player who had crossed the thirty-game mark—and even Mozuku, Koyomi, and, although her play count remained a mystery, Hizumi—had likely learned to do the same. It was a basic technique anyone in the industry would be expected to pull off. And so Yuki was able to swiftly achieve the level of sleep she desired. Fortunately, she would awaken to see another day. (6/11) Yuki awoke to a knock at the door. (7/11) Yuki leaped up the moment the noise reached her ears, vigorously flinging her blanket into the air. Had someone been creeping up on her, that would have blocked their vision. With the strength of her legs alone, she stood up on the bed and adopted a fighting stance. However, she was tilting at windmills, for nobody else was inside the cottage. Feeling a pang of embarrassment, Yuki calmed herself down. Just then, another knock came at the door. It was the same noise she had heard the previous day. Upon straining her ears, she heard a voice repeatedly call out, “Yuki, Yuki.” While working out the visitor’s identity through her voice, Yuki made her way to the door. Then she frowned at the object standing before it. A dresser. Yuki had set it up as a barricade the previous evening. The first thought that came into her mind: What a pain. She then asked herself, Who the heck put this here? before answering, You did last night, stupid. With arms that were not quite operating at full strength due to only having just woken up, Yuki moved the dresser aside and opened the door. Airi was standing outside. “Morning,” Yuki greeted. However, her visitor did not respond immediately. The girl was panting, and her cheeks were flushed. If Yuki assumed she hadn’t caught a cold, did that mean she had sprinted over to Yuki’s cottage at full speed? What reason would she have to rush over? “Good morning.” Relief came to Airi’s face. “Did you place that in front of the door?” she asked, looking past Yuki at the dresser that had been relieved of its barricade duties. “Yeah, well, I figured it couldn’t hurt to be cautious,” Yuki answered. “…That was probably the right call.” “Huh?” “Please, you have to come with me.” Airi grabbed Yuki’s hand and pulled. Yuki felt her center of gravity tilt forward. “Wait, I haven’t gotten ready yet…” “That can wait.” Yuki touched her hair with her free hand. Since she had only woken up moments ago, it was rather disheveled. Yuki placed greater importance on her morning routine than ordinary people. Since she innately carried the aura of a phantom, she looked all the more striking when she was unkempt from just waking up. Yet Airi had still told Yuki to postpone getting ready, even after seeing Yuki’s dreadful state. What could have made the girl so impatient? Yuki could think of only one answer. (8/11) There were five other players on the beach. A player whose giant body brought to mind the image of a bear: Maguma. A peculiar girl who seemed to rebuff any attempt at conversation: Hizumi. A veteran player who had been in the industry since the pre–Candle Woods era: Koyomi. A player in her tenth game who was once again acting all jittery: Mozuku. And the free spirit who had demonstrated an utter lack of cooperativeness the day before: Mitsuba. Adding in Yuki and Airi, that made seven. Everyone turned to Yuki as she came out of her cottage. As someone who spent the majority of her private life in a tracksuit, Yuki was as prone to shame as anyone else. Being seen in an unkempt state, her phantom aura turned up to eleven, was extremely embarrassing. “What were you up to?” Maguma asked, without a word of greeting. “I was asleep,” Yuki answered. “…You sure are a sleepyhead, huh?” Maguma was aware of Yuki’s disposition from their previous games together. “Did something happen?” Yuki asked, with a sneaking suspicion of what had transpired. “There’s, um…one player missing.” The others exchanged glances. Yuki had predicted they would react that way. Maguma replied, “Remember how we agreed yesterday to gather in Koyomi’s cottage in the morning?” “Yeah.” “So this morning six of us showed up. Neither you nor Essay came over, so we decided to head to your cottages. We had Airi go to yours, like yesterday, and I went over to Essay’s, since the two of us know each other from past games.” Maguma’s expression turned troubled, as though the spirit of the scholarly Essay had possessed her. She then looked over at one of the cottages. “That cottage over there, third from the left, is Essay’s. It’s right next to Koyomi’s. Since your cottage is all the way at the end, I reached Essay’s before Airi got to yours. There was no answer when I knocked, so I went in…” The crease between Maguma’s eyebrows grew more profound. “Then I called everyone else over.” Yuki could sense the unease in the air amplifying. All the others—even Mitsuba, to some extent—had solemn looks on their faces. “So we started wondering if you’d also met the same fate. It was the logical next thought. That’s why Airi sprinted over to your cottage. Thankfully, you came out without a worry on your face, and that’s where we are now.” “I’m glad you’re safe,” Airi said. Her normal expression had returned, one that seemed like she was forcing herself to look at something she didn’t want to. “Is Essay”—Yuki looked over to the cottage—“still in there?” “Yeah.” Yuki touched her disheveled hair and looked down at herself; she was covered with lint from her blanket. “Um…Maguma?” “What?” “Do you think it would be rude of me to go see her in this state?” (9/11) Inside the cottage lay Essay’s corpse. (10/11) Players of death games had their bodies modified via a procedure known as the Preservation Treatment. The effects were wide-ranging, but the most important was the transformation of the blood. After a player received the Preservation Treatment, any blood that flowed out of their body would immediately solidify and change into a fluffy white substance. Hence, to players, the color of blood was not red but white. The color that signified gruesomeness, too, was not red but white. Yuki had so deeply internalized this notion, she would be startled just by seeing cotton jutting out of a mattress. The inside of the cottage was covered with white fluff. It was as if a plushie had been ripped apart, as if a bathtub filled with bubbles had been knocked over, as if a machine that made artificial snow had been left running at maximum power. And there it was, lying on the table in the center of the room. Although the body, too, was covered in white fluff, the distinctive cotton-candy-like hair peeking out made identifying the figure no challenge whatsoever. It was Essay’s corpse. Or, to be more precise, it was her head and torso. Her limbs were scattered around the vicinity. Yuki had little trouble locating them, as they were relatively intact. Essay’s left arm rested on the sofa, her right arm lay on the bed, and her legs were on the floor by the dresser. Although her limbs were still identifiable, their joints had been snapped, their skin had been torn, and their nails had been ripped off. They were also missing a few fingers and toes. Essay’s arms and legs were in a grisly state, but her torso on the table was even worse for wear. It had been cut open like a dried mackerel, and exactly five of its rib bones were pointing toward the ceiling like a hand reaching for salvation. Her other rib bones were not untouched—some were broken, and others were stabbed into the bed; not a single one was in its original position. With Essay’s chest unprotected, it was unreasonable to expect the parts that lay deeper inside to be unharmed. Her heart, lungs, and other organs had been neatly organized and laid out like items confiscated by the police. Many of them were placed near the entrance, constituting part of the reason Yuki found it difficult to step inside after opening the door. Essay’s body had been horribly mutilated. However, the fright Yuki felt was not because of the gruesomeness of the corpse. “Yuki,” Airi called out from behind. “This…is the same, right?” Airi’s words carried little substance on the surface, but Yuki fully understood the meaning behind them. Exactly—the corpse seemed familiar to Yuki. Of course, this was the first time Yuki had seen Essay dead, but she had seen a body in a similar state in the past. It had been during her unforgettable ninth game, Candle Woods. The body of the legendary player Hakushi, Yuki’s mentor, had been torn apart at the hands of that psychopath—and the corpse before Yuki at this very moment gave off the exact same impression. However, like Hakushi, that psychopath should have died in Candle Woods. In fact, it had been Yuki herself who had ended the woman’s life by stabbing her repeatedly with a knife shaped like a bamboo leaf. Yuki could still vividly remember the sensation of clutching the blade and thrusting her entire left fist into the psychopath’s stomach. So why? Why was there another mutilated corpse here? (11/11)