Chapter 14

(0/15) Candle Woods. Yuki’s ninth game, the game that had led to her decision to make a living as a player. No other game had been as special as that one, and Yuki was not alone in thinking so. Not a single soul in the industry was unaware of Candle Woods—it represented a watershed moment in the history of death games, with players regularly referring to time periods as “pre–” and “post–Candle Woods.” The game was infamous for its high player count and low survival rate. There had been a total of 330 participants divided across two teams, but hardly any had managed to clear the game and survive. The majority of the game’s players—the majority of the regular players in the industry at the time—had been killed as a consequence of a certain player going berserk. That player’s name was Kyara. She was a homicidal maniac with agarwood-colored hair who had joined the game with a goal not to survive—but to kill. Making full use of her skill set, which was the polar opposite of a typical player’s, she had driven the industry to the brink of collapse. Much time had passed since then, and the industry had seemingly made a near-full recovery from the damage she had caused. However—Essay’s mutilated body before Yuki brought the handiwork of that psychopath to her mind. The sight could very well be a sign that everything would once again collapse into oblivion. (1/15) Seven players gathered in Koyomi’s cottage. (2/15) Like the previous day, the players gathered around a table. Only two things about the situation were different. The first was that Mitsuba did not open the door to the fridge, either because she was not in the mood to eat or because she simply lacked an appetite. The second was, needless to say, the fact that they were down one girl. The body of the missing player, Essay, had been left the way it had been found. Thanks to the Preservation Treatment, the players did not need to worry about the corpse rotting even if it was left out in the open, so they’d decided to first carry out their morning meeting. Naturally, the conversation revolved around one particular topic. “—There are a number of things I find curious.” It was Koyomi who spoke first. She had the same hoarse voice and was wearing the same short coat as the previous day. It seemed she would take the helm as discussion leader. “It’s obvious what we need to figure out—why did Essay die?” Koyomi clearly enunciated her words, ensuring that the other players would not fail to hear them. Why did Essay die? That went without saying—because this was a death game. The “death” aspect of the game, which had remained hidden the previous day, had finally reared its ugly head and sank its sharp fangs into her. “Based on what we know,” Maguma said, maintaining her usual tough face, “it’s gotta be murder. Can’t imagine anything other than a living being tearing apart Essay’s body with that much care.” Initially, the group had theorized that this was an escape game, the kind of game in which players had to flee a designated space while evading dangerous traps that were lying in wait. However, nobody believed Essay had died in such a trap. The way her body had been mutilated was far too deliberate to have been the work of an automated device, and as far as Yuki had seen, there hadn’t been anything resembling a trap inside Essay’s cottage. Since none of the other cottages seemed to contain traps, it was implausible to assume Essay’s was the only one that’d been rigged. This meant someone must have killed her. “Question is, who did her in? It could’ve been the work of a trained animal or an assassin invited by the organizers. Or maybe…” Maguma trailed off, but it was clear where her sentence was heading. “Let’s start by sharing everything we know for certain,” Koyomi suggested. “We’re looking at two possibilities. The first is that there’s someone other than us on this island under orders to attack players, and they killed Essay.” That would make this a survival game, just like Yuki’s fortieth game in the amusement park. In that case, all seven players in the room would have to work together as a team. “Probability-wise, I don’t buy it,” Maguma said. “We looked all over the island yesterday. If anyone else was here, we would’ve run into them.” “Exactly. That increases the likelihood of the second possibility—that we eight are indeed the only people on this island, and that the murderer is among us.” The players exchanged glances. Koyomi continued, “If you stop to think about it, doesn’t everything seem to point that way? After eight people spend a night on a secluded island in the middle of the ocean, with nowhere to escape, a dismembered body suddenly turns up. It’s a textbook setting for a suspense story. It feels like it has to be that sort of game.” A closed circle mystery—was that the name? This subgenre of detective fiction depicted murder cases that occur in an enclosed space shut off from the outside world, such as on an island at sea or in a mountain villa during a blizzard. Since Yuki rarely read novels, much less mysteries, she had never personally encountered such a work before, but she was at least familiar with the term. “…If the murderer is one of us,” Mitsuba said, resting her head on her hands, “then why did they kill Essay?” “’Cause that’s their victory condition, of course. Whoever it is would have been informed in advance that they were going to play the role of the ‘culprit.’ In that case, they would have to kill a certain number of players… Either two or three, I’d reckon.” Two or three—Koyomi had probably reached that conclusion after factoring in the average survival rate. The vast majority of games were designed so that at least half of the participating players could survive. Yuki surmised three was the most likely number. “Then…what do the rest of us have to do to win?” “Who knows. Maybe we only need to survive, or maybe we need to unmask the culprit. Or perhaps, as we discussed yesterday, we’ll have to escape the island by rowing a raft all the way to land.” “For now, it seems like we can focus on survival,” Yuki said, jumping in. “Why’s that?” Koyomi asked. “None of the rules have been explained to us. If we need to play detective and ultimately identify the culprit, wouldn’t the organizers convey that to us in a clearer way? Like setting the game in a spooky mansion and dressing us in deerstalkers and trench coats. It’s way too far-fetched to expect us to make the leap from the information we currently have to concluding that we need to investigate the scene and deduce the killer. And as we learned yesterday, escaping the island seems near-unfeasible.” Koyomi appeared convinced by Yuki’s logic. Yuki continued, “The rules haven’t been made clear because we don’t have any need for them, don’t you think? The players who aren’t the culprit simply have to survive for a designated period of time to clear the game. Meanwhile, the culprit needs to kill a certain number of players within that same time frame.” Yuki turned her gaze to the refrigerator. “Mind if I open that?” “…? Be my guest.” With Koyomi’s permission, Yuki opened the door to the fridge. Inside were chilly bottles of ramune and packaged foods. “How many packs did you eat yesterday?” Yuki asked. “Two. Factoring in the ones Mitsuba ate, there should be four fewer than what was there initially.” “Then there was twenty-one meals’ worth of food to start with.” Currently, the fridge contained seventeen packs. Adding back the four that had been consumed the previous day, that made twenty-one. Yuki could only think of one logical reason why it hadn’t been a round number like twenty. “You mean to say this game will last for a week?” Koyomi asked. Even a grade-schooler could carry out the simple calculation. Twenty-one meals divided by three meals a day equaled seven days. Although the portion size of a pack was slightly less than appropriate for a single meal, and there likely wouldn’t be any players who would want to routinely eat three meals a day in the middle of a death game, it was safe to assume the quantity of food was conveying a message about the game’s duration. “It’s too risky to say for certain, though.” Yuki closed the refrigerator door. “There’s no definitive evidence. The little food we have is precious, so we should be careful to consume it without considering the consequences. And even though I’m the one saying this…I could be the culprit making up lies.” It was possible Koyomi was right about the players needing to actually unmask the culprit. Maybe the rules weren’t clear because the players simply hadn’t explored everywhere they needed to. Even if it seemed like they could clear the game by waiting out the week, Yuki wasn’t in any kind of mood to spend the whole time doing nothing but eating and sleeping in her cottage. Koyomi shot a glare at Mitsuba. “You hear that? The food is precious,” she said in an annoyed tone. “You better return what you ate yesterday.” “Huh?” “Don’t ‘huh?’ me. Got it? After this meeting, we’re going to your cottage.” After this meeting. As if spurred by those words, Mozuku spoke up. “Um, about that… What are we going to do today?” The players all focused their attention on Mozuku, who was visibly worried. “Are we…going to stick together in a group like yesterday?” The concern in her voice was as rich as a piece of fatty tuna. The reason for her distress was obvious—she was nervous about the culprit being in their midst. Sticking together and acting as a collective group would mean spending time with the killer. Of course, as evidenced by elementary school students walking to school in groups, it was safer to stick together than to be by oneself. With everyone banding together, the culprit would find it difficult to incite trouble. Still, Yuki could understand Mozuku’s anxiety. “Count me out.” Maguma broke the silence. “The culprit is pretty much confirmed to be one of us. Being with them is way too dangerous. I’m gonna go it alone.” “That’s exactly the thing you shouldn’t do.” Mitsuba smirked. “The people who go off on their own are the first ones killed. Don’t you know the first rule of thrillers?” “I’m not gonna go down easy,” Maguma replied in the same forceful tone. “Even if everyone here ends up my enemy—I’ll strike you all down.” Nobody could respond with the same level of conviction. A giant player reminiscent of a bear. Yuki was well aware from past games that the woman’s muscles were not just for show. No player could stand a chance against her in a head-on fight. Her claim of being able to defeat the other six players simultaneously was by no means an exaggeration. In Maguma’s case, she would be safer alone. The risk of being caught off guard by someone nearby far outweighed the danger of being by herself. “Those of you who want to flock together, go right ahead. But I’m gonna go my own way.” “Me too,” said an unfamiliar voice. It came from Hizumi—the absent-minded player who had only said a handful of words the previous day. “I’d rather be alone, too.” “…You two aren’t team players, huh?” Koyomi gave a wry grin. “Well, whatever. We’re all free to do as we see fit. Besides, it’s by no means certain there’s a killer in our midst.” The theory of the culprit being among them was credible only because their search had turned up nothing the previous day. There was no hard evidence backing the logic. Maybe there actually was an assassin sent by the organizers who had either escaped detection or had arrived by night. The probability of the culprit being outside the group of players was not negligible. “Still… Even if we do as we see fit, we’ll run into trouble if we aren’t coordinated to some degree. This game won’t be easy if we don’t know who’s alive or dead, right? So how about we gather for a daily meeting, just in the mornings? We’ll share what we did the day before and any new discoveries we made. We can act according to our own judgment, but we’ll mandate gathering here every morning. Does that sound good?” Koyomi turned to Hizumi and Maguma. “It’s not like either of you want to be alone the entire time, right?” “…Well, I guess,” Maguma said. Her emotionless expression was likely a facade. “If we’re having meetings…do we have to reveal everything? Can we reserve the right to remain silent?” “That’s fine. After all, the culprit certainly won’t tell the truth…and it’s not like the rest of us are unconditional allies. Feel free to keep your mouth shut if that’s what you want. Though, I believe speaking the truth will lessen the extent to which people suspect you of being the culprit.” Maguma scoffed at Koyomi’s remark. In these games, the attitudes of participants varied widely. Some were like Yuki, preferring to cooperate with fellow players in clearing games when possible, while others were like Maguma and Hizumi, preferring to act as lone wolves. Just as the culprit would attempt to hide their deeds, so too might other players conceal information to improve their odds of survival. “Any other questions?” Koyomi took a look around the room. After confirming that nobody had anything they wished to say, she continued, “Then we’ll disband for today. See you tomorrow. Hopefully, we’ll all still be among the living.” (3/15) Maguma was the first to leave the cottage, followed by Hizumi. Mitsuba attempted to head out, too, but as she got up— “You’re not going anywhere,” Koyomi said, stopping the girl in her tracks and making her sit back down with a pout. The other three players—Mozuku, Airi, and Yuki—remained perfectly still around the table. After gauging the attitudes of everyone else, Airi spoke up. “I’m thinking of paying a visit to Essay’s cottage… Would you all care to join me?” A short silence followed. Mitsuba was the first to respond. “I’ll pass. It’s too much of a hassle.” “I’ll come with,” Yuki said. “I have a couple of things I want to investigate… But Airi, if you want to go to the scene of the crime, does that mean you plan to track down the culprit?” “Yes. That is my intention,” Airi answered with a sullen look on her face, one that signaled exasperation at her life. Running counter to her expression, Airi’s approach seemed awfully aggressive. Yuki found that surprising, but after giving it some thought, she realized it may actually have been well within her character. After all, Airi had killed five players in her first game, Candle Woods. Despite her gloomy countenance, she was someone who would get things done when they needed doing. Airi glanced at the remaining two players—Koyomi and Mozuku. “I’d like for you two to join us if you’re able… Safety in numbers, as they say.” In this kind of game, there were two ways to ensure one’s safety. The first was to act alone, as Maguma and Hizumi had elected to do. Not allowing other players to get close would naturally decrease one’s odds of being killed. The second was, as Airi had just suggested, sticking together in a large group. With multiple sets of watchful eyes on alert, the culprit would find it harder to act. The one approach to avoid at all costs would be acting in a small group, one perfectly sized for the culprit to wipe out with ease. “I don’t mind, but…,” Koyomi responded, “can I take care of some business first? There’s something I need to claim from this little troublemaker.” She pointed her thumb at the “troublemaker,” Mitsuba, who pouted once more. Yuki thought back to earlier in the meeting, when Koyomi had demanded Mitsuba return the food she had eaten the previous day. “That’s fine,” Airi replied. “Actually…we’ll go with you. It would be dangerous for the two of you to be by yourselves.” “I-I’ll join. Please let me go with you,” Mozuku said, bringing the group to four. “You’re really serious about this, huh?” Mitsuba said to the others. She had clasped her hands on the table and was resting her chin on them. “We’re on a heavenly beach, but you’re really going to spend your time playing detective instead?” “It’s more bizarre for a player to be acting so frivolously in her thirtieth game,” Koyomi shot back, bringing the girl’s game count into the conversation. However, Mitsuba showed no concern. “There’s really a culprit, huh? I was watching everyone during the meeting, but I have no clue who it could be. Guess they’re a pro at hiding it.” In truth, Yuki had covertly been doing the same. She had thought the culprit, however used to killing they were as a player, would have acted suspiciously after dismembering a human being with such brutality. But she had learned nothing more than Mitsuba—it had been impossible to tell who was responsible. Everyone had looked somewhat more serious than they had the day prior, but none of their behaviors could be deemed suspicious. Yuki had even felt unsettled about the overall lack of reaction to Essay’s death. Although she was certainly in no position to judge, the players were all far too accustomed to the sight of death. “Koyomi, did you hear any screams or noises last night?” Mitsuba asked. “Your cottage is right next to Essay’s, right? Were there no sounds of a struggle?” “I didn’t hear anything. And these ears of mine are pretty sharp,” Koyomi answered. She then asked in return, “How about you? Isn’t your cottage to the left of hers?” “Nothing at all. I had no idea there was a murder going on.” Mitsuba sounded far too carefree to be talking about a killing. “The problem is, any of us could have done it. These cottages can’t be locked. All it would have taken was sneaking in while Essay was asleep and killing her with a single blow. Sounds like a piece of cake.” Apparently, Yuki’s cottage was not the only one lacking a lock. While they could put up a barricade, as she had done the previous night, preventing an intruder from opening the door at all was basically implausible. “It certainly wouldn’t have been a ‘piece of cake,’” Koyomi rebutted. “Wouldn’t it?” “Nope. Sure, entering a cottage might not be hard, but going up against Essay? She was a seasoned veteran in her fiftieth game. Even pre–Candle Woods, there were hardly any players of her caliber. I wouldn’t consider it a piece of cake to sneak into her room and kill her.” Koyomi’s explanation made perfect sense. Even in this game filled with experienced players, Essay stood out. She would surely have been able to wake up on command the moment someone entered her cottage. Even if she had been ambushed in the dark, it was unthinkable that she had gone down so easily. “Why did they go after Essay?” Airi jumped into the discussion. “If I were the culprit, I don’t think I would intentionally target the player with the highest game count… I don’t mean to offend…but I would probably go after Mozuku or Koyomi.” Mozuku visibly recoiled at the sudden mention of her name. This game was number ten for Mozuku, and number twenty for Koyomi. Although a player’s game count was not necessarily a reflection of their abilities, there was some degree of correlation. If the culprit only needed to kill a certain number of players, it would be most logical to start by targeting the weakest of the bunch and working up from there. “Maybe they wanted to cut off the head, so to speak,” Yuki said. “Remember how Essay was acting as the brains of the group yesterday? The culprit may have intentionally gone after her to prevent us from coordinating…” “And while Essay did have the highest game count, she didn’t exactly look strong,” Koyomi said. “That could be part of the reason. She wasn’t the kind of player to fight with her fists, you know?” “Exactly. True to her appearance, she was more of a strategist.” Yuki had been in multiple games with Essay in the past, and as far as she knew, Essay’s brains were her biggest strength. She fell on the completely opposite side of the spectrum as physical monsters like Maguma. It wouldn’t be unreasonable to think that the culprit had taken one look at her slender body and then concluded she was an easy target. “We may be able to uncover why the culprit went after her by investigating the scene,” Airi said. Her words set the group into motion. “Let’s get going.” Koyomi stood up. Yuki, Airi, and Mozuku followed suit. Only Mitsuba did not move a muscle, until Koyomi told her, “You’re coming with.” With a sour face, Mitsuba rose to her feet. (4/15) The five players went outside and walked across the sand, heading for Mitsuba’s cottage. On the way there, Yuki spent time thinking about the cottages. From right to left, the cottages were assigned to her, Hizumi, Airi, Maguma, Koyomi, Essay, Mitsuba, and Mozuku. They were spaced apart equidistantly, and reaching an adjacent cottage took several minutes on foot. Walking from Koyomi’s cottage to Mitsuba’s—a distance of two cottages—therefore required twice the time. The group retrieved two packs of takoyaki and one bottle of ramune from Mitsuba’s cottage. “Well, this is my stop,” Mitsuba said, staying behind. The party, now reduced to four, quickly doubled back to Koyomi’s cottage to store the retrieved items in her fridge. They had completed their first mission without any issue. The four players then made their way to Essay’s cottage. Unable to dismiss the sense of looming danger despite being in a large group, Yuki remained wary of the other three as she walked. The sand crunched beneath the players’ feet as they proceeded onward. It was the second day of the game, and the previously immaculate shore was now littered with footprints. Since the players each wore different footwear, ranging from sandals to shoes, they left behind unique footprints. For a second, Yuki thought they would be able to determine who had visited Essay’s cottage by investigating the imprints in the sand, but she immediately realized that would be out of the question. After all, the cottages were built on stilts in shallow water, not on the shore. Although the four of them were leaving behind footprints by walking on the shore, someone wading through the water would not. Naturally, the culprit must have gone that route to carry out the murder. It took little time to reach Essay’s cottage, as it neighbored Koyomi’s. Yuki stood before the entrance and, imagining what waited beyond, opened the door. However— Although she had mentally prepared herself for what she’d expected to see, she was taken aback. “—Wha…?” Yuki turned around. Airi, Koyomi, and Mozuku were behind her. The three of them seemed as cautious as Yuki had just been; they lingered some distance away. From where they stood, they could not see inside the cottage. After noticing Yuki’s surprise, Airi asked, “…Is something wrong?” “Um, here, look.” Experiencing a momentary lapse in language, Yuki stepped aside. The other three came closer, and after reaching a position where they could peek through the doorway— “…Huh…?” “Oh my…” “Wha…?” —the players offered differing reactions. Inside the room, Essay’s corpse was nowhere to be seen. The torso on top of the table, the limbs lying on the sofa and bed, the numerous organs laid out by the entrance—everything had vanished. Yuki wondered if they had entered the wrong cottage, but she immediately dismissed the thought. There were two cottages to the left and five to the right—it was assuredly the same place she had entered earlier that morning. And although Essay’s body was missing, the room was in the exact same state as before, with white fluff scattered all over, as if someone had ripped up a cotton comforter. This was undoubtedly Essay’s cottage, the place where her body should have been. Where it should have been. “What does this mean…?” Yuki stepped inside; entering was much easier now that the organs lined up on the floor had disappeared. “Could…someone have come in here before us and cleaned things up?” Airi suggested after following Yuki inside. That was a reasonable explanation. If the corpse hadn’t gotten up and walked away by itself, and if a mischievous breeze hadn’t whisked it away, then someone must have carried it out. In that case, the responsible party could only be one of two people. “Maguma or Hizumi?” Those two had left Koyomi’s cottage right after the end of the morning meeting. Since the other five players had stayed put for a little while, either Maguma or Hizumi had to be responsible for taking away Essay’s body. Perhaps the two had even worked together to do so. “But why? To give Essay a proper burial?” While burying the dead was an accepted custom in society at large, that was not the case in the world of death games. Giving someone a burial in a game venue would make neither the deceased nor the organizers happy. For corpses that did crop up, it was common practice to either leave them be or move them to a place where they would not get in the way; both Maguma and Hizumi should have been well aware of this. “This may sound rude, but I don’t think either of them is the type to do that.” “I agree. There must be some other reason at play…” Airi put her hand to her lips, as if deep in thought. “Actually, if we assume the two of them are responsible—even if they were working together, there wouldn’t have been enough time. No more than five minutes passed between the time they left the cottage and the time we went outside…” Although the body would have been lighter due to blood loss and easier to carry due to being dismembered, it still would have had to weigh around one hundred pounds. Even Maguma would have a hard time carrying something that heavy. When Yuki and the others had gone to retrieve food from Mitsuba’s cottage, neither Maguma nor Hizumi had been on the beach. They would have needed to clean up the body and take off in the few minutes the others had been talking after the meeting. It would have been physically impossible to pull off such a feat. None of the seven players could have carried away Essay’s body. Thus, the logical conclusion was— “Gives more credence to the theory of there being an outside culprit,” Koyomi said, touching the table from which the corpse had disappeared. “The assassin let loose by the organizers cleaned up the body during our meeting… That’s the only explanation.” The discovery of the corpse had caused their daily meeting to last quite a while. There would have been plenty of time for someone to transport the body while the group had been having their extended discussion. Consequently, it was more logical to think that the culprit was not among the players. Even if that was true, however, why the body had been moved was still a mystery. If it was also the work of the killer, then it certainly would not have been an act of mourning. Would an investigation of the body have turned up something undesirable for the culprit? (5/15) Although the disappearance of Essay’s body came as a shock, it didn’t change the group’s plans. The four players began to investigate the scene. The first thing that stood out about the room was Essay’s blood. White fluff filled the cottage just as it had in the morning, either because whoever had taken away her body had been unable to collect it, or because they hadn’t needed to. Because the blood had puffed up, it was difficult to determine exactly how much had been shed, but there was no question it had been a considerable amount—enough to have killed Essay. However, contrary to the gruesome sight, there were no signs of a struggle. Nothing in the room had been destroyed, and there was not a single scratch on the wooden walls or floor. Both Koyomi and Mitsuba had testified to not hearing anything, and most likely, there would have been little to hear. The culprit had murdered Essay silently. The group immediately concluded the culprit had noiselessly come in through the entrance, as there were no signs of damage to the windows or walls, nor was there any evidence of something having been placed in front of the door. It appeared Essay had neglected to put up a barricade. Maybe she had thought it pointless, since the door could still be opened, or maybe she had felt confident in her ability to fend off an intruder. Or perhaps she hadn’t felt much need for caution, as the rules of the game had still been unclear the previous day. Yuki was hoping Essay had secretly left behind a dying message, but there was nothing of the sort. The group scoured the room, but they failed to discover any information—intentionally or unintentionally left behind—that could lead to the killer’s identity. “Well, this is all we got for our troubles,” Yuki said with a hint of sarcasm. She was staring into the open fridge. Evidently, the killer had not taken anything from it—six days’ worth of food remained inside. “…Are you thinking of eating?” Airi asked. “It’s not like these are offerings to the dead,” Yuki responded. “We won’t incur the wrath of the gods if we take stuff.” Yuki grabbed a ramune bottle and opened it by pushing down on the marble. She offered it to Airi. “…Thank you,” Airi said before accepting it. Yuki opened another bottle for herself and took a sip. Even in a room where a tragedy had taken place, the drink was refreshing. After taking out another two bottles, she asked, “You two want any?” The faces of Koyomi and Mozuku appeared distorted on the glass. “I’m feeling a little hungry, so why don’t we break for a meal?” Yuki heated up four packs of food in the microwave. Since eating at the table where Essay’s body had been would not do their appetites any favors, the group stepped outside. Yuki and Koyomi gobbled the food down like they were eating a normal meal, and although neither Airi nor Mozuku seemed particularly at ease, they still ate, too. “Shall we go over what we know?” Airi suggested while eating. “…Although…there isn’t much information to sort through.” “Better than doing nothing,” Yuki said, offering her support. “Then let’s start by narrowing down the time of death. When was the last time you all saw Essay alive?” Everyone had the same answer: the previous evening, when they had dispersed and returned to their cottages. “And we found her dead this morning… There weren’t any noises hinting at violence during the night, right?” Airi asked Koyomi, whose cottage was adjacent to Essay’s. “I didn’t hear anything,” Koyomi answered. “Or more accurately, I wasn’t listening. No idea what happened after I nodded off. Even if our cottages are adjacent, there’s a fair bit of distance between them, and I certainly wouldn’t notice anything while sleeping.” “How about her cottage lights? Were they on when you went to bed?” “I wasn’t paying special attention to her cottage, but I’d say they probably were.” “If we assume the crime happened after Essay turned off the lights and went to sleep, that would still mean it occurred sometime between last night and this morning…” “If we factor in the time needed to dismember the body, it couldn’t have been later than early morning. The span of time is too long.” Furthermore, since there were no clocks on the island, they couldn’t accurately determine the time of day, so the exact range of time during which the crime could have occurred remained uncertain. It was unlikely that would contribute to identifying the killer. With these kinds of murder cases, it was typically common practice to estimate the time of death by examining the body’s state of rigor mortis, but the disappearance of Essay’s corpse made that impossible. The only way to narrow down the time range of the crime would be through player testimonies. Right now, it seemed unlikely the group would uncover anything new about the topic. “Shall we discuss the method of killing next?” Airi suggested. “Between last night and early morning today, the culprit sneaked into Essay’s cottage. Since the windows and exterior walls are undamaged, we can assume that whoever it was entered through the front door. They probably killed Essay in one fell swoop; there were no signs of a struggle. After that, the culprit dismembered Essay’s body before returning to their own cottage.” “Dismembered… Does that mean the culprit has a weapon?” Mozuku asked, speaking her first words in quite some time. “I can’t imagine someone accomplishing that barehanded…” “I’d say so, yeah,” Yuki agreed. “The organizers must have given the culprit different tools to make it easier for them. At the very least, the killer definitely has a blade that can cut through flesh. And considering how easily they took out a player of Essay’s caliber, we can practically confirm they have more than that.” Mozuku visibly quivered. “If they’ve been supplied with weapons, then searching everyone’s cottages may lead to something…,” Airi suggested. “Oh, no, but…” For some reason, Mozuku showed a great deal of reluctance. “Wouldn’t it be strange if the killer left weapons in their cottage…? Surely they’d hide them somewhere else…” Her attitude seemed awfully suspicious. Perhaps Mozuku had something in her cottage she didn’t want other players to find. Still, Yuki agreed with the girl’s logic. The culprit wouldn’t be so incompetent as to leave evidence out in the open linking them to the murder. “It’s not like anyone would want to casually invite other people in, either,” Koyomi said. “Forget an old lady like me, you wouldn’t feel comfortable having a teenage girl searching your room, would you?” Although Koyomi had said it as a joke, she made a good point. The thought of the culprit possibly looking around every inch of one’s cottage would naturally make players hesitant about allowing a search. Besides, it would likely be difficult to search all the cottages. The two players who had chosen to act alone—Maguma and Hizumi—would certainly signal disapproval. “…I suppose so…,” Airi said. Although she looked as if she wanted to object, she quickly changed tack. “Then let’s try to paint a picture of a culprit. For now, we have two theories—they’re either one of us or an outside party.” “I’m not really buying either…,” Yuki said. “If the culprit is a player, they would have had to carry out Essay’s body in the few minutes after the meeting. If they’re an outside party, then it’s odd we didn’t run into them yesterday.” “We can set that aside for now. There’s something more important to talk about,” Koyomi said. “First, the culprit has a blade sharp enough to chop up a human body. And second, they managed to kill Essay, an experienced player in her fiftieth game, without her resisting. There’s one question we should be asking: How can we protect ourselves from a killer like that?” The air suddenly grew heavy. It was a reality none of them wanted to face head-on. To reiterate, a player’s game count did not necessarily reflect their ability. However, there was a correlation. Essay, the player with the highest game count among them, had been taken out. This implied that, if one of Yuki’s group was targeted, they had absolutely no guarantee of safety, despite having the advantage of being able to exercise caution. The time of the murder. The method. The culprit’s profile. Soon after they had covered all those topics, and their moods had somewhat darkened, the group finished their meal. “Um, Airi?” Yuki called out. “Yes?” “Can I talk about how the corpse seemed familiar?” Airi’s ordinarily gloomy face became even gloomier. “I’m positive I killed her, but I wonder if she’s somehow still alive… That psychopath, I mean.” “Well…I don’t think she did this herself…” Airi gave a serious response. “But if there’s someone like her around, then we need to be careful… This game might end up becoming another great tragedy like Candle Woods.” “Yeah, you’re right.” “What are you two talking about?” Koyomi interrupted. “What was that about a psychopath?” “Oh, um…,” Yuki replied. “There was a player who enjoyed cutting up people in a game we were in long ago—Candle Woods.” The mention of the game’s name seemed to draw the veteran player’s interest. “Huh…,” Koyomi said. “Her name was Kyara. She’s long dead by now, so she can’t show up in this game…but it’s weird a corpse resembling her handiwork turned up. The culprit might be someone with a similar disposition.” “If it’s not the psychopath herself, then maybe someone connected to her is in this game,” Airi continued. “Remember? She had a protégé…Moegi. Maybe she had others, too, and one of them is among the players…” Moegi. The name brought back memories for Yuki. That girl was as memorable as Kyara herself. As in many other industries, the death-game industry featured countless mentor-protégé relationships. Since one wrong step could be fatal in this world, everyone in it understood the importance of learning the ropes from someone more experienced. Finding a mentor as soon as one could was essential for a player’s long-term survival. For a mentor, taking on a protégé was equivalent to adding someone to their own team, growing the number of players who would ally with them out of common interest. There was nothing stipulating those connections be one-on-one. Kyara could very well have taken on protégés besides Moegi. If one of them was in this game, the most likely candidate was the absent-minded— Yuki shook her head. It was too early to jump to conclusions. Kyara didn’t have a monopoly on mutilating corpses. It wouldn’t be strange if there was someone else around with the same fondness for the act, regardless of how unusual it was. And yet Yuki felt nervous agitation. It wasn’t a by-product of a sugar rush from the soda she had just drunk—it was an animalistic instinct. Although her sixth sense wasn’t as sharp as Koyomi’s—who had turned down an invitation to Candle Woods—over the course of her career as a player, Yuki had acquired the ability to detect foreboding premonitions of the future. A game filled with elite players. Yuki’s forty-fourth game. I’m sure this one will leave a mark on me. (6/15) After heading back inside the cottage to throw away the empty packs of food and ramune bottles, the four players left the area. “What should we do now?” Yuki asked the others. “Should we keep sticking together?” “…No, let’s call it here.” The response came from Airi. “You can continue to do so if you wish, but I want to be by myself.” Yuki found that surprising. After all, Airi was the one who had invited everyone else to investigate the scene. “Wouldn’t it be safer to act as a group?” Yuki asked. “Yes, but…if that’s all we do, I don’t think we can survive.” Although those words did not offer much of an explanation, Yuki understood their implication. Airi likely wanted to arm herself. Since they believed the culprit had weapons at their disposal, the immediate priority for all players was to prepare as much as they could to counter them. Although there were no traditional weapons on the island, a player who had surmounted the Wall of Thirty, like Airi, was probably bursting with ideas on how to outfit herself. If that was her goal, acting alone would be better than staying in a group. While it wouldn’t be inconceivable for Airi to prepare supplies while in a large group, she would run the risk of revealing her hand to the culprit, who was possibly lurking in their midst. The players had been temporarily working together because it was safer to do so, but after investigating the scene, Airi must have determined that going it alone was better. “M-me too,” Mozuku chimed in. “I’d also prefer to be by myself…” Yuki was even more surprised; she hadn’t expected to hear that from a player like Mozuku. Combined with the fact the girl had objected to a search of her cottage moments ago, she seemed to be plotting something. “…Can’t really call a pair of two a group, can you?” Koyomi looked at Yuki. “Shall we follow their lead and go our own ways?” “Sounds good,” Yuki replied. “Let’s call it a day here, then. Hopefully, we’ll see one another again tomorrow.” The four players bid farewell to one another and disbanded. Yuki observed where the other three were headed: Airi walked toward the forest, as the players had done the previous day, and Koyomi and Mozuku went toward the beach in different directions, each going to their own cottage. After watching them disperse, Yuki also took her leave. She first headed in the direction of the beach—but not toward her cottage. Instead, she was hoping to explore the perimeter of the island. During the search the previous day, she had only gotten to see the beach and the forest—the interior of the island—so she decided to look around the water’s edge. Her plan was to first search the shallow waters before heading a little deeper into the ocean. Although her top priority was preparing for a clash with the culprit, searching the game area was equally important, since it could allow her to uncover more of the game’s rules or find items prepared by the organizers. So Yuki slowly waded through the shallow waters of the beach. Immediately, she ran into another player. “Oh, Yuki. Hello there.” It was Mitsuba. The girl was in the ocean again today, floating atop a swim ring. Yuki stopped a good distance away from Mitsuba, ensuring that she could make a quick getaway if the girl was the killer. “…All that time yesterday playing around wasn’t enough for you?” Yuki asked. “Not even close,” Mitsuba replied. “I mean, do you see how gorgeous the ocean is? One day is nowhere near enough to get my fill. It’s like that proverb about how you don’t get bored of a pretty woman in three days.” “Isn’t it supposed to be that you do get bored of a pretty woman in three days…?” “Is that how it goes? Anyway, I want to enjoy myself while I’m still able—it’s not like I can swim in the ocean if I’m hurt or dead. That would literally be rubbing salt in the wound.” This game was supposed to be Mitsuba’s thirtieth, a milestone moment in a player’s career known as the Wall of Thirty. Despite that, she did not show even the slightest unease. “Life’s winners are those who have fun, huh?” Yuki mused. She expected the girl to agree, but instead— “I’m not a fan of that saying,” Mitsuba replied. “Really?” “Yeah. I mean, isn’t it pretty glum? The idea of life having winners and losers. It’s not at all clear if you should interpret that as a good thing or a bad thing.” I guess that’s one way of looking at it, Yuki thought. The conversation came to a screeching halt. “…Um…” Finding the silence awkward, Yuki searched for a topic. “Oh, have you learned anything new about the game?” “Nope, nothing. No clues. Not even a single piece of trash. I tried heading farther out into the ocean, but I still couldn’t see any land.” Mitsuba kicked the water, sending both the swim ring and her body spinning. “You’re probably right, Yuki. About this being a survival game with a player playing the role of a murderer, I mean. Your theory ties everything together.” Mitsuba thrust her legs into the water, slowing the rotational inertia acting on her body. When the swim ring came to a stop, the girl was directly facing Yuki. “You just came from investigating the scene, right? Did you find anything?” Yuki saw no problem with telling Mitsuba about what had happened. “Just the opposite, in fact. We lost something.” “Meaning…?” “Essay’s corpse is gone.” “…Oh?” “Her fluffed-up blood was still everywhere, though. It’s like her body vanished into thin air. The culprit probably took it away.” “That’s an important clue.” Mitsuba stroked her chin. “So that means either Maguma or Hizumi has to be the culprit, right? The rest of us have alibis.” “Not necessarily. If we assume one or both of them was responsible, they wouldn’t have had time to carry out the body. There were only a few minutes between when those two went off and when the rest of us left the cottage. In that sense, they both have alibis, too.” “Ah… Point taken.” “So we were wondering if the actual killer is an outside party. That theory has holes of its own, though… Anyway, we couldn’t find any conclusive evidence linking to the culprit’s identity.” Mitsuba again kicked the water, causing her body to spin with the swim ring. “What’s your personal take on the situation? Who do you think is the most likely culprit? I don’t care if it’s a stab in the dark—I just want to hear what’s on your mind.” Yuki took some time to organize her thoughts. “…I’d say either Hizumi or Mozuku.” “Oh? Why’s that?” “Hizumi is…hard to get a read on. If she’s responsible, it makes sense that she was able to keep a blank face at this morning’s meeting.” Yuki decided against sharing the real reason she suspected Hizumi—the girl reminded her of the psychopath from long ago. “As for Mozuku… I dunno, it feels like she’s hiding something. This is supposed to be her tenth game. Maybe she’s only acting nervous, and she has an ulterior motive. Still, there’s no evidence pointing to her being the killer.” “Oh yeah, I can see that.” “How about you, Mitsuba? Any thoughts on the culprit?” “Me? Well…” Mitsuba took the same amount of time as Yuki to think. “I think Mozuku’s pretty sketchy, too. Like, it’s all in her name.” “How so?” “This game is called Cloudy Beach, right? And her name’s written with the characters for ocean and cloud. There’s gotta be a deeper meaning there.” “…Seems like a coincidence to me.” Yuki narrowed her eyes. “Besides, she’s had her player name since way before this game. And yeah, while the characters themselves are a match, they mean something totally different when you put them together in a name—it’s a type of seaweed.” “Guess so.” Mitsuba roared with laughter. Someone sure is carefree, Yuki thought. “Well, none of the others can be trusted, either,” Mitsuba continued. “Every death-game player is suspicious in their own way. There’s always the chance someone other than the culprit will use the commotion to take me out.” “Huh…? Why?” Yuki asked. Mitsuba’s statement came out of left field. Mitsuba seemed puzzled, as if she couldn’t understand why Yuki didn’t get it. Moments later, she shot an uneasy smile at her. “You’re too pure, Yuki,” she said. “I can’t believe you can still be so pure in your forty-fourth game.” “What are you talking about?” “The world is one of resenting and being resented. That goes doubly so in this industry. Wherever I go, there could always be a player who’s vowed to kill me at the first opportunity because of something that happened in a past game.” “Do you have anyone in particular in mind?” “What, you think I don’t?” Absolutely not. Mitsuba was a girl who marched to the beat of her own drum and had not a single cooperative bone in her body. She was certainly the type to have many enemies. “It’s not like you’re an exception, Yuki,” Mitsuba said. “In fact, even I have strong feelings about you.” “…?” Yuki grew even more confused. “Isn’t this our first game together? Have we met somewhere before?” “Not directly.” Mitsuba’s reply was similar to what Koyomi had said the day prior. “But I know of you, Yuki. I have for a long time.” Mitsuba got out of her swim ring. The seawater came up to her shins, as it did with Yuki. “I’ll let you in on a little secret,” Mitsuba said, beckoning Yuki forward. “Here, come closer so I can whisper it to you.” Yuki hesitated. The possibility Mitsuba was the killer crossed her mind. With only two of them on the beach, approaching the girl would come at great risk. However, Yuki’s curiosity won out. What were those “strong feelings” Mitsuba had toward her? What did she mean about knowing Yuki for a long time? Her tone had made it seem like her awareness went beyond rumors. At a glance, Mitsuba didn’t appear to be hiding a weapon capable of dismembering someone. She didn’t seem hostile, either. Those facts came together in Yuki’s mind, leading her to conclude it would be all right to approach the girl. So Yuki walked up to Mitsuba and leaned forward. However… …that was a lapse in judgment, for Mitsuba’s next words caused Yuki’s mind to go blank. “I was Mishiro’s protégé.” (7/15) Mishiro. The name of a player who had a strong adversarial relationship with Yuki. The two had first met in Yuki’s tenth game, Scrap Building, and they had reunited in her unforgettable thirtieth game, Golden Bath. Mishiro had stood before Yuki as the embodiment of the Wall of Thirty, the harrowing trial that afflicted players like a curse. Yuki knew Mishiro had taken at least one protégé. In fact, Yuki had met and fought her—a player by the name of Riko. Mishiro must have instructed her to kill Yuki, because the moment Riko had heard Yuki’s name, she’d glared in anger and begun to attack. As it turned out, however, Mishiro had taken another girl under her wing. And that other protégé swept Yuki’s legs out from under her. (8/15) Yuki was unable to react; her feet lost contact with the ground and her balance gave out. Only after Mitsuba’s Got you! face and the blue sky entered her field of view did Yuki finally realize what had happened. But with no way to stop herself from falling, Yuki crashed into the water with a great splash. Then a weight pressed down on her from above. The bubbles spewing from her mouth prevented Yuki from identifying who was to blame, but the answer was obvious: Mitsuba. She was pinning Yuki down. Although the water level only reached up to their shins, Yuki would drown if she was kept beneath the waves in a supine position. Yuki forced her mouth shut and pinched her nostrils to avoid depleting her limited supply of oxygen, then attempted to sit up using her ab muscles. “Must’ve been about a year ago.” Mitsuba began casually monologuing while Yuki thrashed below her. “I met Mishiro right around the time I joined these games. Apparently, she was searching for players she could turn into her protégés…or rather, her lackeys. Subservient girls who were empty inside and would listen to her every command. I wouldn’t call myself the subservient type, but I am empty inside. That’s why I caught Mishiro’s eye.” At last, Yuki managed to stick her head out above water, but Mitsuba pressed down on her face, submerging her yet again. “I wanted a mentor to help me survive a long time, so I became her protégé. And geez, was it rough. It was always Yuki this, Yuki that, around the clock with her. I’ve never met anyone that vindictive. She’s the kind of person who would hold a grudge against her least favorite elementary school teacher her entire life. ‘If anything happens to me, crush Yuki in my stead’—that was what she ordered me and her other protégés.” Yuki attempted to rip Mitsuba off her, but the girl deftly stymied her efforts. “Don’t worry; I’m not going to kill you. I quit being her protégé, after all. And I’m not empathetic enough to be motivated to act on someone else’s grudges. I’m jealous of how the other girls could so passionately devote their lives to another person. I couldn’t do that even if I wanted to.” Indeed, Mitsuba likely had no intention of killing Yuki. After all, she still emanated no malice. But regardless of her intentions, any human would die from being submerged in water for an extended period of time without air. “I bet you’re wondering why I’m doing this. Well, I just felt like it. I was curious what kind of person could make Mishiro so obsessed, but from what I see, she deluded herself into having an inflated view of you.” Ultimately, Yuki failed to push off Mitsuba. Instead, Mitsuba got up. With her newfound freedom, Yuki raised her head above the water to see Mitsuba picking up her swim ring. “Farewell, Yuki,” Mitsuba said before briskly walking away. Yuki stood there on the beach. Catching her breath, she muttered, “…What a free spirit…” (9/15) Now that Mitsuba was gone, Yuki was free to explore the beach with peace of mind. She walked in the shallow waters, attempted to wade out farther into the ocean, took a lap around the island, and even did a little swimming. However, she found nothing of note. She tried swimming out a comfortable distance from the shore, but not only did she not reach land, she also couldn’t even see any land to aim for. For the second day in a row, her search had borne no fruit. Perhaps there was nothing to be found in the first place, and her theory about the game’s only rule being to survive was correct. As Yuki continued to go around in circles, the sun started to set. Right when she was about ready to call it a day, she realized something extremely important: The players had all spent the previous night in their cottages, but there was no rule mandating they do the same that night. Nothing was preventing them from spending the night outdoors, and in fact, they were under no obligation to sleep in the first place. With Essay’s killer roaming the island, sleeping in a cottage without a lock was far more dangerous than falling asleep in front of a mirror. This was no game of werewolf; there was no need to stay in a fixed location and wait for a wolf to attack. In reality, however, the decision about where to sleep was not so simple. Sleeping outside offered no guarantee of safety, either, and more importantly, Yuki had made no preparations to do so. The beach was by no means an eternal summer paradise, as the air became chilly after sunset. The environment was not so forgiving that a player could enjoy restful sleep by simply bringing out a mattress and blanket. And while staying up the entire night to be ready to counter the killer’s attack was a viable strategy, heading into the critical moments of the game in a suboptimal, sleep-deprived condition was just as risky as sleeping inside a cottage. So—what was the best course of action? (10/15) Night fell. Mitsuba was in her cabin, staring off into space. (11/15) She was wide awake, since she’d taken an extended nap after returning from the beach. Although Mitsuba lay in bed, covered by a blanket, her eyes were wide open, and her cottage lights were on. Unable to decide if she was trying to fall asleep or not, she stared off into space while the seconds continued to tick away. As she lay there fully conscious, her mind naturally wandered to various places, like how she was tired of drinking ramune, and the daily missions of the mobile game she had been playing lately. But those trivial thoughts paled in comparison to the ones about the phantom girl she had fought earlier in the day. So that’s Yuki, she thought. She’d grown tired of hearing the name back when she’d been Mishiro’s protégé. According to Mishiro, Yuki was a truly godlike player. After meeting the girl in the flesh, however, Mitsuba concluded Mishiro had been suffering from delusions. Mitsuba believed she could have easily killed Yuki if she had so wished. Yuki was neither god nor phantom—just a completely ordinary human. Mitsuba thought her mentor foolish for having obsessed over someone so unremarkable. This opinion also extended to Mishiro’s other protégés, like Riko, whose minds had been completely dominated by their mentor’s nonsensical motives. “…………” But she wasn’t as foolish as me, she thought. Mishiro, the other protégés—they’d all had life in their eyes. They’d all been driven. They hadn’t been frivolous, like Mitsuba. Human happiness boiled down to the extent to which one could deceive the brain inside one’s head. Foolishness was not something to be pitied—it was far better to be foolish than to not even have the capacity for it. People often called Mitsuba a “free spirit.” She, too, believed that to be true. Nothing in the world could hold her down. Although she wasn’t incapable of finding things to be fun, she would always forget those memories by the next day. There was nothing she considered particularly compelling. Nothing captivated her spirit, and nothing made her feel alive. In the end, not even her mentor, someone who’d taken great joy in controlling others, could hold sway over Mitsuba. She was hopelessly empty. Apparently, this very quality made her fit for these games. Even when her fellow protégés had all died, even when her mentor had perished, Mitsuba remained alive. After continuing to join games whenever invited by her agent, she reached her thirtieth—the Wall of Thirty. Perhaps this one would be what finally did it for Mitsuba. Perhaps it would finally offer her something she couldn’t escape from. From the bottom of her heart, Mitsuba hoped that would be true. That was why, when her cottage door opened, she felt not a hint of panic. (12/15) The intruder entered brazenly through the front door. Their face was concealed, wrapped with thin pieces of fabric cut from a gown resembling a lab coat—the outfit Essay had been wearing. The covering was not just limited to their face; it was wrapped around their whole body, making them look like a mummy. However, it was almost certainly a girl beneath those layers of cloth. There was definitive proof the mummy intended to hurt Mitsuba: They were holding a blade of a middling size in their right hand. It was larger than a knife, but too small to be considered a sword. It was likely best described as a machete. There was no doubt about it. They had to be the culprit. “Good evening,” Mitsuba greeted, sitting up in bed. The ideal strategy for survival would likely be to shout at the top of her lungs to inform other players of the culprit’s presence. However, that would be a little too embarrassing, and she had no way of knowing if anyone would hear her screams. Besides, Mitsuba was probably the only player who had ignored the dangers and stayed in her cottage while knowing the killer was on the prowl. And so she didn’t scream. She had a plan for how to win without needing to call for help. “Shall we do this?” Mitsuba jumped off the bed, bouncing off the springs of the mattress. Clinging to her blanket, Mitsuba walked straight toward the culprit. The mummy did not appear the least bit intimidated, yet they did not seem eager to accept a head-on fight, either. Their free hand—their left hand, which was also wrapped with pieces of a gown—moved ever so slightly. Mitsuba had known exactly what they had in mind. And because of that—nothing happened. “……?!” Mitsuba couldn’t see the mummy’s expression, but they appeared to be shaken. She continued to approach the mummy, just as she had been doing in the seconds prior. The mummy was completely startled, as if witnessing an impossible feat. Their mental agitation was not lost on Mitsuba. The exact same moment that the mummy reacted in surprise—from Mitsuba’s perspective, before the mummy had even moved their left hand—Mitsuba broke into a run. She threw off the blanket, exposing her arms and legs. With as wide a gait as she could manage, Mitsuba closed the distance between her and the intruder in just three steps. For the final step, she stomped hard on the floor, turned horizontally while in the air, and channeled all her momentum to her legs. She was giving a flying kick. She hit her target in the chest. The mummy staggered back, temporarily winded. Mitsuba then delivered a high kick to the mummy’s face, sending the intruder flying out of the cottage into the shallow waters that reached their ankles. Mitsuba didn’t let up on her assault. After exiting the cottage herself, she swiftly retrieved the machete the mummy had dropped. Her opponent had yet to recover from the kick to the face. With light movements, Mitsuba approached the mummy— —and thrust the blade at their chest without a moment’s hesitation. There was no recoil whatsoever. The machete plunged through the mummy’s chest so easily that it felt as though it were cutting through the air. Mitsuba let go of the machete. The weapon was so deeply embedded in the mummy’s body that it reached through to their back, and it stayed in place even after Mitsuba released her grip. The image of sticking chopsticks in a bowl of rice entered her mind, and she gave a self-deprecating smile after realizing how inappropriate the comparison was. “—You won’t be getting what you want,” Mitsuba said to the mummy, knowing her words would fall on dead ears. “I removed them during the day. I’m not so obedient as to let myself be bound by that shoddy contraption.” Mitsuba looked into her cottage. More precisely, her gaze was directed at the triangular sink strainer in the kitchen. Of course, she couldn’t actually see it from outside, but in her mind, she was picturing what was tossed inside there—twelve objects in total, which had forced Mitsuba to go through a painful experience. She had noticed them just a few hours prior. After awakening from her nap, she’d discovered them while blankly staring at her body. That was the moment Mitsuba had understood why Essay’s body had been so thoroughly mutilated: The act had been carried out to conceal the existence of those objects. They represented the culprit’s biggest advantage against their victims, constituting a scythe of death that not even the fifty-game veteran Essay could escape from. However, Mitsuba had noticed them. And because she had—this was the result. “Now…” Mitsuba circled her finger around the mummy’s face. “Let’s see who you really are. Time to get a good look at that face of yours.” Mitsuba ripped off the thin pieces of fabric that resembled bandages. Although she didn’t expect to need to put in much effort, it took a fair bit of time to remove the numerous layers of cloth. After much frustration, the bandages finally came to an end— “…Huh?” Mitsuba’s face froze when she saw what was underneath. The next moment, a force struck her in the head, one powerful enough to knock her out. (13/15) Dawn broke. Yuki stepped out of her cottage, alive. (14/15) After considering all her options, Yuki had decided not to sleep. Although she had the skill to fall into a light sleep, Yuki had been convinced that sleeping was dangerous; after all, Essay had been killed despite presumably possessing the same skill. So Yuki had waited inside her cottage, fully awake, preparing herself to counter an attack from the culprit. She had determined that to be the safest choice. Thankfully, the morning arrived without incident. And since she had stayed awake, she did not need to be woken up by Airi knocking on her door, as had happened the previous two days. As soon as the sun came up, Yuki walked over to Koyomi’s cottage. She considerately tapped on the door, loud enough to be heard by a waking person yet quiet enough to not rouse a sleeping one. “I’m awake,” a voice came from inside. “Come in.” Upon receiving permission, Yuki entered the building. The cottage was unlit. The only light came from the door Yuki had just opened and the windows that were barely large enough for a person to fit through. Koyomi was standing close to a window. “Oh?” she said, upon seeing Yuki. “I’m surprised to see you here first.” Koyomi stared at Yuki inquisitively. “…Aha. You didn’t sleep, did you?” She immediately deduced why Yuki had gotten there before everyone else. “Not a wink.” “If you’re right about this game, there’ll be five more days. Will you be okay?” “I’ll make it work… And you, Koyomi? Did you sleep in your cottage?” Yuki glanced over at the bed, which had signs of someone having slept in it. “Sure did. It wouldn’t be easy for an old lady like me to sleep outside or to stay awake all night. Ironically, I’m confident in my ability to sleep lightly. I don’t have to pay any special caution. I’ll wake right up if someone’s approaching my cottage.” “…How old are you?” “Twenty-eight. That makes me a grandma in this industry, doesn’t it?” Although Koyomi’s age matched her appearance, she gave the impression of being far older. “…I dunno,” Yuki replied. As she had done the previous two days, she motioned to sit down by the table. “Hold it right there,” Koyomi said, stopping Yuki in her tracks. “Don’t get any closer. You wait right where you are until the next player gets here.” “Huh? …Oh, right.” Yuki and Koyomi were the only two in the room, which provided the culprit the perfect opportunity to make a move. It was natural to be on guard, so Yuki waited obediently by the entrance. Around half an hour or so later—at least, according to Yuki’s internal clock—a second player, Airi, arrived. When she entered the room and saw Yuki, her expression changed to one of utter disbelief. With skepticism on her face, Airi said, “Good morning.” Intrigued by the meaning of the girl’s expression, Yuki replied, “Morning.” Soon afterward, a third player appeared—Maguma. Hizumi came next. And finally, Mozuku entered, exhaustion coloring her face. Presumably, Mozuku would have arrived earlier had she stayed up the entire night; the girl’s exhaustion could likely be explained by her attempting to stay awake but accidentally drifting off in the middle of the night, getting only a middling amount of sleep before morning. Five players had come into the cottage. With Koyomi, that made six. There would be no seventh player arriving. (15/15)