Chapter 16

(0/22) Learning. That one word perfectly summed up Essay’s strength as a player. She would gain knowledge from other people and the past and use it to guide her next steps. When seeking success, Essay was far more interested in observing the efforts of others than attempting to figure things out herself. Yet it was more than just an interest—her capacity for learning was truly outstanding. It was precisely the kind of aptitude that allowed someone to comfortably walk the high road in death games, which thoroughly punished players for even a single failure. Essay considered Hakushi—the ninety-five-game veteran whom she had requested to be her mentor—a premier resource for knowledge. Her primary strategy for survival was mimicking every aspect of her teacher. She learned from not only Hakushi’s direct teachings, but also from the woman’s behavior. Essay even studied her mentor’s past games—including Candle Woods, which she had obtained a video of from a certain source. Naturally, the knowledge she had acquired included information about a body modification procedure Hakushi had received, one that would grant a player nigh-immortality, allowing them to survive even being dismembered by a psychopath. To follow Hakushi’s lead, Essay had needed to discard almost the entirety of her original body, but the decision had meant nothing to her. If she was going to stand above the competition, she would have to make greater sacrifices than others. Her stellar results proved her way of doing things was correct. She effortlessly racked up clears, breezed past the Wall of Thirty, and found herself on the precipice of clearing fifty games—an achievement that had been rare even in the pre–Candle Woods era. And now she was playing in her fiftieth game. That was a milestone to be celebrated, and it offered Essay a brand-new experience: being informed of the rules in advance of the competition. The game would take the form of a closed circle mystery and be held on a secluded island in the middle of the ocean. A killer lurking among the participants would murder player after player, night after night—and Essay had been chosen to play the role of the culprit. To mitigate the disadvantages of being a one-person team, the organizers had given Essay two pieces of equipment: The first was a large knife—a machete. The second was a small electronic gadget. Devices had been implanted under the skin of every player besides the culprit, and by using the gadget, Essay could pinpoint their locations at any given time. That was not the only function of the gadget; it could even be used to remotely activate the implants and send an electric current through the players’ bodies, temporarily incapacitating them. However, since it needed to cool down for twenty-four hours after each use, Essay could use it to kill at most one player per day. She understood this stipulation was to make the game more like a closed circle mystery featuring a string of serial killings. As for more detailed rules, the game would last for a week. The culprit, Essay, would clear the game if she killed at least three players in that time. There was no prescribed method of killing, and she was free to use or not use the gadget as she wished. However, her deeds had to be “murders,” not “disappearances”—in other words, she needed to leave the dead bodies where other players could see them. After the week passed, a rescue ship prepared by the organizers would arrive, and the victory condition for everyone other than the culprit would be to board the ship and escape the island. If Essay had failed to kill three or more players at that point, the many agents on the ship would execute her. Essay had pondered the rules after being informed of them. The game was going to last a week. However, she only needed to kill three players. The advantage provided by the gadget could only be used once per day. The rules did not require she keep her status as the culprit under wraps, but she wanted to avoid detection if at all possible— After some deliberation, Essay had decided to strategically let the first day go to waste. She would turn herself into the first victim. After misleading the others into thinking they were playing an escape game, she had dismembered her own body that night. There were two reasons she had made her death so over-the-top. The first was to give her competitors a strong impression of her demise, and the second was to lay the groundwork so she could extract the implants from her subsequent victims’ bodies without raising suspicion. Despite ripping off all four of her own limbs and even splaying out numerous organs, Essay survived on account of the procedure she had undergone. And so she slipped under the others’ radar and obtained freedom. From the next night on, Essay had actively engaged with the game. For her first target, she had selected Mitsuba. Since she only needed to kill a designated number of players, it would seem logical to target the weakest first, but the implants flipped the script of the game. It was important to get the stronger players out of the picture in the early stages, before anyone noticed the devices. That was why Essay had gone after Mitsuba first. She hadn’t expected Mitsuba to have removed her implants, but when the girl flinched in surprise upon learning her attacker’s identity, Essay used the opportunity to counterattack and secure victory. For her second victim, she’d initially decided on Maguma. The woman was unrivaled in terms of physicality, but Essay had the perfect tool to negate her might. Her decision had been influenced by the fact that she was aware of Maguma’s capabilities, on account of having played with her in multiple games before. However, since Maguma had already removed the implants, Essay turned to plan B and targeted Hizumi instead. Essay was aware the girl had been Kyara’s protégé. Since before the game, she had been planning to eliminate Hizumi if the chance arose, in order to prevent a repeat of Candle Woods. Hizumi had discovered the existence of the implants, but since she had neglected to remove the ones in her heels, Essay had no trouble sending the girl to the same place as her mentor, Kyara. And so she had succeeded in killing two players, but the third murder would be the real challenge. From the odd movements of the transmitters, Essay had deduced the other players had discovered the implants. She had already confirmed Maguma had extracted hers. Yuki and Airi had likely done so as well, while Koyomi and Mozuku would both remove them in short order. Without those devices, Essay’s advantage had whittled away to her lone machete. Since she had dismembered herself recently, she was not in peak form, either. Challenging the remaining players head-on would be unwise. However, Essay had already settled on a plan of attack. Before the game, she had envisioned countless ways it could have played out—including a scenario in which someone uncovered the existence of the implants, stripping Essay of her advantage. Since she had anticipated that possibility, naturally, she had already thought of a way to handle the situation. She was not so foolish as to play the game relying solely on the advantages she had been given. Essay entered the forest. Before long, she reached her intended destination. She moved aside the plants she had set up as camouflage and confirmed that the object she had gradually been crafting since the second day of the game was still there. It was a raft to take out to sea. (1/22) Four players were having a discussion in a cottage. (2/22) After the end of the morning meeting, the four players who stayed in Koyomi’s cottage—Yuki, Airi, Koyomi, and Mozuku—took care of various tasks. Koyomi and Mozuku extracted the twelve devices implanted in each of their bodies. Yuki and Airi allowed the other two to investigate their wounds, proving that they had not injured themselves as a ruse. It was looking more and more likely that the culprit was not in their midst. Once they confirmed they were all innocent, the group then began to mull over the utterly outrageous theory that had just been proposed. “…Are you serious?” Airi asked. “You really think Essay is the culprit?” Yuki and Koyomi both nodded. Essay—she had been the first victim on the island. The others had been rattled by the dismembered state they had discovered her body in. Yuki and Koyomi had shared the theory that Essay was not actually dead but roaming freely about the island, orchestrating a massacre. After they had said this, Airi and Mozuku had stared nervously at them. “A thousand percent,” Yuki replied. “At the very least, that’s what Koyomi and I believe.” “But, um, Essay was, you know…,” Mozuku said, raising an objection. It was a classic trope in mystery stories—the first victim, presumed to be dead, turns out to be alive and well. In this situation, however, the theory sounded completely ludicrous. After all, Essay’s muscles, bones, and even organs had been ripped out of her body. The girls did not need a coroner to know she had been murdered. In the ordinary world, it would be completely unimaginable for someone who had gone through that to still be alive. However, there were grounds for supporting the theory. “There’s a player I found in exactly the same state who’s still alive,” Yuki explained. “My mentor. Though I was convinced she was dead…” Yuki’s mentor, Hakushi, was a legendary player who had died a gruesome death in Candle Woods—or so Yuki had thought. Apparently, Hakushi had not been reduced to mere legend status just yet. Although she had retired from the industry, it seemed she was still in good enough shape to go drinking. “Koyomi,” Yuki asked, “did my mentor…mess with her body?” “Yep. She got the procedure around her eightieth game or so, I think. She had been battered over and over, so she had no other choice. A good portion of her body wasn’t human,” Koyomi explained. “Along the way, the word ‘fatal’ started to have a different meaning for her. Damage that would kill ordinary people no longer affected her. It’s shocking how she could survive such devastating injuries…” Yuki thought back to the grisly sight she had seen in Candle Woods: Hakushi’s body, mutilated by Kyara. Yuki wondered what in the world her mentor had done with her body to be able to survive such a nightmare; however, she had no choice but to accept it as fact. “So Essay really is another of my mentor’s protégés, huh?” “Hakushi told me about Essay herself, and Essay confirmed as much before you all came into my cottage on the first day.” Koyomi glanced over at Mozuku, who had been with them at the time. “…Yes, that’s true,” the girl confirmed. “Your mentor is alive,” Koyomi stated. “And there’s a good chance her protégé Essay is still kicking, too.” Yuki looked down at her left hand. The appendages from her middle finger to her pinkie were artificial. Those were the only parts of her body she had exchanged. She had no knowledge of body modification procedures that could grant immortality. However, the same was not necessarily true for her mentor’s other protégés. Hakushi could very well have divulged her secrets to Essay. “Everything comes together when you think about it,” Koyomi said. “Why was Essay, the player with the highest game count and the least likely target, chosen as the first victim? Because she’s the culprit. She must have planned to escape suspicion by faking her death. Why did her corpse suddenly vanish? Because she was still alive. While we were chatting, she gathered her things and left on her own. Why hasn’t the game ended? Because the culprit—Essay—isn’t actually dead.” Koyomi raised her voice even louder. “There have only been two victims. One more player has to die for the game to end.” The cottage grew so quiet, Yuki could hear the buzzing of the fridge. “It would be wise to stick together,” said Airi after a short while. “Regardless of whether Essay is the killer. We’ve pretty much confirmed the culprit isn’t one of the four of us, so we should act as a group to protect ourselves.” Yuki and Koyomi nodded, indicating their agreement to the plan. “But…” The remaining player, Mozuku, began to say something. “What is it?” Koyomi urged. “Oh, um, nothing…” Mozuku walked back her comment with a mumble. Yuki knew exactly what the girl was planning to bring up: The game would likely come to an end once another player died. That meant if three players in their group colluded to tie up and offer the fourth to the culprit, they would be guaranteed to clear the game. None of the four of them was the culprit, but that fact did not necessarily make them allies. However, there seemed to be a tacit agreement not to mention this. Even when you factored in that risk, the benefits of working together were considerable. Essay might hesitate to take on four opponents at once and instead target Maguma, the lone wolf. Plus, they still did not know for sure if Essay was the killer. It was possible either Maguma or an outside party was the culprit, and the game had already concluded following the deaths of three players. Yuki sure hoped that was the case. (3/22) The group decided to hole up inside a cottage. While it was dangerous to stay in an obvious location, it was the only way the four of them could stick together in one place. Camping out in the forest would be too conspicuous, and since their plan was to remain in one spot for an extended period of time anyway, the risk of being discovered was the same anywhere. The players decided to take shelter in Koyomi’s cottage, where they had all gathered before. The other three first went back to their own cottages and grabbed food, drinks, extra swimwear, and other various necessities. Yuki, frumpy minimalist that she was, had only a handbag’s worth of items, while both Airi and Mozuku brought over several times as much—especially Mozuku, who had taken out an entire drawer from her dresser and stuffed it full. Yuki was mighty curious about what was inside, but Mozuku had draped a bedsheet over the drawer, hiding its contents from view. Yuki’s conscience stopped her from ripping it off to get a peek. Their strategy was to spend the rest of the week in the cottage, taking turns keeping watch. Essay did not break through a window with her immortal body as if reenacting a zombie movie, and the group did not face a devastating betrayal in which three players abandoned the fourth while the latter was asleep. And so the fourth day ended without incident. (4/22) Yuki opened the cottage door and walked out beneath the night sky. The moment she stepped outside, she tightly hugged herself in response to the chilly air. She had borrowed one of Koyomi’s short coats, but that wasn’t enough to shield her from the cold. So a second into her shift as lookout, she was already hoping for the next player to replace her. Yuki looked up to see a gorgeous starry sky. Since the environment was free of artificial light, the natural glimmer of the stars reached Earth with essentially no obstructions. Yuki was clueless about the stars, as she had only ever lived in urban areas since birth, and astronomy books had never piqued her curiosity as a kid. Her only impression of the stars above was a simple one—they were beautiful. Earlier, however, she had received a lesson from Airi, who had apparently had that very kind of childhood. As such, Yuki managed to locate the Big Dipper, along with the star it pointed to, Polaris. The glittering night sky presented not only a beautiful sight, but also a practical benefit: One could measure the passage of time through the movement of the stars. Since there was nothing inside the cottage that functioned as a clock, at night the players used the stars to manage the lookout shifts. It was an odd method of telling the time, both romantic and primitive. As Yuki stood in the chilly air, her only wish was for the stars to start moving faster in the sky by some twist of fate. After cutting off her foolish train of thought, Yuki turned her focus to her duties. She kept a watchful eye on the area around the cottage. She could not see Essay, nor any other scoundrels, for that matter. Yuki did more than just observe; she also patrolled the area while keeping her eyes peeled for any anomalies. After completing ten laps around the cottage, she no longer needed to consciously think about walking, so she used her free mental capacity to ponder other things. It was the end of the fourth day. Since the game would only last a week, just three days remained. To be precise, because the game had started in the morning, there was a little over three days left. They were more than halfway through. Ultimately, nothing had happened during the day. What was Essay doing? Was she coming up with a plan of attack after learning four players were sticking together? Or had she gone after Maguma, thinking it would be unrealistic to overcome the group’s numbers, and the two of them were duking it out right about now? Yuki hoped the latter was the case. “…………” She continued keeping watch. Barring the temperature, her time outside was tranquil. The many events that had transpired over the past several days had come and gone like a shooting star. Upon reflection, Yuki had nothing to feel proud about with this game. On the second day, Mitsuba had made a fool of her, while on the third, she had gotten caught in Maguma’s trap. She had also failed to realize the existence of the implants on her own, needing Airi to essentially spell it out for her. And although she was in the best position out of anyone to realize the truth that Essay was alive, the thought hadn’t even crossed her mind until the fourth day. In this game filled with seasoned veterans, Yuki had continuously come up short. Then there was Essay—Yuki’s fellow protégé, an experienced player in her fiftieth game. Yuki had no choice but to acknowledge her. She couldn’t fully repress the thought that rose in her mind. Please don’t make me fight Essay. She hoped Essay would target Maguma. More than that, she hoped the theory about Essay being the killer was wrong. Ideally, a third party was the culprit, and the game had already concluded by virtue of three players dying. Those thoughts passed through her mind. “…I’m pathetic,” Yuki muttered. Expecting and praying for things to go your way? That’s not how a player acts. Weren’t you the one worrying that things were going too smoothly up until a few days ago? Is this how you are in the face of a slightly more formidable opponent? Don’t be ridiculous. You’re completely ignoring Master’s teachings. Why not learn from your fellow protégé? Take a lesson from the person who cut open her own body— “……?” Yuki furrowed her brows. (5/22) From then on— Much to Yuki’s anxiety, time continued to tick away without incident. The fifth day arrived. Besides the fact that their living arrangements as a group had become somewhat strained, there were no issues. The sixth day arrived. Maguma did not show up to the morning meeting. Had Essay killed her, or did Maguma see no need to attend? Since Maguma might be the true culprit, she could have intentionally skipped the meeting so as to lure the group outside, so the four players continued to hole up in the cottage. The seventh day arrived. The group began to worry they had gotten the rules of the game wrong. Had they been correct on the first day about needing to build a raft to escape the island? Were they playing right into Essay’s hands by sticking together as a group of four? Although a heated debate broke out between them, in the end, the group decided to settle for the status quo. They reasoned that since they had already reached the seventh day, it wouldn’t be too late to act after first seeing what the following day had in store for them. Besides the discussion, no issues came up. And, at last, the players reached the one-week mark. On the morning of the eighth day, Yuki was shaken awake. (6/22) Yuki leaped up, vigorously flinging her blanket into the air. That would block the vision of whoever had shaken her awake. With the strength of her legs alone, Yuki stood up on the bed shared by the four players and swiftly adopted a fighting stance. However, her efforts were meaningless, for the person standing there was not Essay. “Wh-what’s the big idea?” In front of Yuki was someone wriggling underneath the blanket she had just tossed. After a short while, the girl managed to get it off, revealing her face. It was Mozuku. “…Morning,” Yuki greeted. Relief washed over her in the same moment. Yuki had let her guard down. How could she have failed to wake up before the girl had touched her? Although it was certainly not the first time in the past week Yuki had been startled awake by someone else, this was a new low. She had grown too careless in this uneventful stretch of days. She scanned the cottage. Nobody was inside other than her and Mozuku. Since the group had adopted a system where one player would always be stationed outside as lookout, it was not unusual for there to be one person missing, but what had happened to the other person? Was she holed up in the bathroom or something? “I, uh… My bad,” Yuki apologized to Mozuku. “Is it time for my shift? Sorry that you had to wake me.” “Oh, no, that’s not it…” Mozuku made a troubled face, seemingly trying to recall what she had to say. Two seconds later, as if to replace all the air in her body, Mozuku’s eyes, nostrils, and mouth opened wide at the same time. “Oh, right! They’re here to pick us up!” Those words instantaneously dispelled the rest of Yuki’s drowsiness. (7/22) Yuki rushed after Mozuku outside, following the girl’s lead as she climbed the outer cottage wall onto the roof. Airi and Koyomi were already there. “Oh, finally awake?” Koyomi asked. Without offering a greeting, Yuki hounded Koyomi for answers. “Is it true? Is our ride off the island really here?” “Yep. Look over there.” Yuki turned to face the direction Koyomi was pointing. The cottage roof offered a greater view of the surrounding seascape. Yuki could even see beyond the forest to the ocean on the other side of the island. Although she still couldn’t spot any signs of land, she did see something on the horizon that hadn’t been there one week earlier. A ship. From Yuki’s vantage point, it appeared no larger than the size of a poppy seed, but it was unmistakably a ship. “You have Airi to thank,” Koyomi said, now pointing to Airi. “She was on lookout duty this morning, and she had been keeping her eyes peeled from this roof. She figured a ship would have to come from the other side of the island.” “The waters on this side are shallow,” Airi explained. “No ship would be able to get close. It stands to reason that it would come from the side opposite the beach.” Yuki trained her gaze on the boat. It appeared to be heading straight for the island. There was no chance a random, unrelated vessel would be coincidentally passing by at a time like this, which meant it had to have been sent by the organizers. “So nothing actually ended up happening,” Koyomi commented. “Were we just deluding ourselves into thinking Essay was still alive?” “Hard to say…,” Yuki replied. It was undeniable a ship had come for them. However, the game had yet to end. Perhaps Essay was planning to take out a player when everyone else let their guards down, inches from the finish line. They had to stay on their toes. “Should we really be here?” Mozuku asked. Her question was one that could sound quite profound, depending on how it was interpreted. “The ship can’t reach this area, right? Does that mean we won’t be saved unless we head to the other side?” “No… Surely they’ll send a lifeboat or something for us, won’t they?” Airi offered an opposing argument. “The other side is all cliffs, so they would have a difficult time making landfall there, too. I bet they’ll use a lifeboat to reach us.” “Essay is also still on the loose,” Koyomi added. “I’d be terrified to leave this cottage. It would be wise to stay put for a while and see how things play out.” Yuki was of the same opinion. If Yuki were in Essay’s shoes, she would attack the moment the players attempted to leave the cottage to head toward the ship. Since they had long settled on a wait-and-see strategy, Yuki was reluctant to leave the area before the eleventh hour. Her reluctance was certainly not rooted in a fear of Essay—at least, that was what she convinced herself. (8/22) Inside the ship, Essay’s agent was swaying with the movement of the vessel. (9/22) Essay’s agent was on board the rescue ship dispatched by the game organizers. The watercraft was sailing full steam ahead toward the secluded island where Cloudy Beach was being held to retrieve the surviving players. Typically, rescue ships were small and light in order to prioritize speed, but the one carrying Essay’s agent was of a far larger size. That was because it needed to serve multiple purposes besides simply rescuing players. For example, the vessel was equipped with medical facilities to ensure players who had sustained severe injuries would survive, along with inflatable lifeboats to reach the shallow waters of the island. There were also armed soldiers on the ship, waiting to carry out Essay’s execution in the event she failed to complete her task. There were agents aboard, too, ready to welcome back their players upon the conclusion of the game. Essay’s agent walked down a corridor of the vessel. While in her cabin earlier, she had been informed the ship would arrive shortly and had been instructed to attend to her duties. So, with a life jacket draped over her black suit, she hurried toward her assigned location. The other seven agents aboard the ship were likely doing the same. Upon reaching a four-way intersection, the agent stopped in her tracks. A group of people had reached her intended path before her. Clad from head to toe in black, with helmets, goggles, gloves, boots, and other various pieces of armor, they emanated a menacing aura. These were the armed soldiers tasked with executing Essay. While waiting for them to pass, the agent murmured to herself, “Those are gonna go unused.” She was referring to the burly firearms each soldier carried. They were ominous-looking submachine guns, the kind that someone might think would blow off their finger if they simply touched it with their bare hand, the kind that would sell for quite a hefty sum even as a model gun, the kind that would shock people to death if you pointed one at them, no actual shooting required. Those weapons are pointless, the agent thought. You’ll only have to use them if Essay fails. And sorry, but I’m afraid that’s not going to happen. There isn’t a player alive who stands a chance against her. She’s more passionate, more talented, more guarded than anyone else. A world where she goes down in flames is a rotten one. There was plenty she wanted to say, but since she was terrified of vocalizing any of it to a cluster of armed soldiers, she kept her abrasive opinions to herself. The only verbal comment she had made was that one mutter from earlier, but it had been drowned out by the soldiers’ footsteps and had likely not reached anyone’s ears. That was what she had thought, but on the contrary— “Nope—I’ll be using one myself.” The reply rang out after the soldiers disappeared from the agent’s view. The voice had come from behind her. “Huh…?” She turned around. There stood Essay. (10/22) “Wha…?!” Before the agent could shout, a hand covered her mouth. “……???” The agent took a good look at the person in front of her as she mumbled. It was Essay. Although the bandages wrapped around her body made it difficult to tell, her physique, the hair jutting out from the top of her head, and the voice from earlier all clearly belonged to her. “Quiet. Things will get complicated if I’m caught.” It was indeed Essay’s voice coming from beneath the layers of cloth. With her free hand, she brought up a finger to her bandaged mouth and went “Shhh.” The agent nodded. After Essay removed her hand, the agent quietly asked, “Um… So… What are you doing here?” Essay was alive. That was expected and utterly unsurprising. However, the agent couldn’t help but be shocked at how Essay had shown up in front of her looking like a mummy, along with how Essay had somehow gotten on the ship before it had reached the island. “I have some business here to take care of, so I took the liberty of boarding early,” Essay answered. Her body was completely dry. Did that mean she had paddled over on a raft? Had she seriously boarded a moving ship without a ladder? There was no doubt in the agent’s mind that her player was a monster. “Well, um… I guess I should say congratulations on clearing fifty games,” the agent said. “……?” Essay tilted her head in confusion. “Oh, no. That hasn’t happened yet. I’ve only killed two players so far, so I still haven’t cleared the game.” “Huh? Then why are you here…?” “Naturally, to ensure I can kill one more. Didn’t you hear me? I’ll be ‘using one for myself.’” Essay had said that. And the agent intuited the meaning behind those words. “It can’t be… Did you come aboard to obtain a weapon?” “Yes,” Essay nonchalantly replied. “You can’t do that! Those soldiers are here to execute you, you know! If they find out you’ve boarded the ship without having met the conditions for clearing the game…” “I see no issue. The game is supposed to conclude after a week has passed, and the players have been rescued. Since that hasn’t happened yet, those soldiers have no reason to kill me, even if they spot me. Isn’t that right?” That may be true…, the agent thought. “Still, it’ll be a problem if you lay your hands on someone working for the organizers.” “I do not believe so. Players are free to use anything present in the venue of a game however they see fit. And in this case, we can consider the venue not only the island, but also the surrounding waters. Since this ship has entered the vicinity of the game, nobody on board can reasonably object to anything that might happen to them.” The agent was speechless. Her silence indicated both her inability to come up with a counterargument and her disbelief at her player’s intentions. “I’m in a rush, so please excuse me.” Essay gave a small nod. “Sure, okay…” The agent nodded back. “…You’ve really thought up a wild plan, huh?” Who would ever come up with the idea of stealing weapons from the organizers in an attempt to clear a game? Essay’s lips moved from beneath the bandages. Although her expression was covered, she must have been smiling. “It’s my style to skirt the rules rather than follow them.” (11/22) Yuki lost sight of the ship behind the forest as it drew closer to the island. The group climbed off the cottage roof and waited for the rescue brigade to arrive. A short while later, an inflatable lifeboat appeared from one end of the beach, likely having been deployed from the larger ship. It was heading straight for the cottage where Yuki and the others were standing by. Yuki paid close attention to the lifeboat. Apparently, some modern lifeboats were equipped with engines, but the one currently approaching the island was manually operated. The person rowing was completely clad in black, though they were not wearing the characteristic suit of the games’ agents; the outfit they had on was more rugged, like the uniform for a military special forces unit. The individual’s helmet prevented the players from confirming their identity. “Show us your face!” Koyomi’s voice reverberated across the beach. “Don’t take us for toddlers. We’re not going to go off with a stranger!” The arms of the rower paused for a brief moment. But that was all. They kept on rowing the boat, as if nothing had happened. After noticing that clearly suspicious reaction, the four players opened up distance between one another, preparing for what the future had in store. Depending on the weapon wielded by their opponent, they could be culled in one fell swoop if they were all bunched together. “We’ll let them get a little closer,” Airi said. “If they still don’t show their face, let’s escape into the forest.” The other three nodded in agreement. The group closely monitored the rower’s every movement. Although each of their gazes was honed on the mysterious individual, that person did not glance back. They simply continued rowing in silence, showing no willingness to remove their helmet and reveal their face. The very moment Yuki sensed danger… …the person in black made a move. They retrieved an object from the rear of the lifeboat that had been covered with cloth. They flung it forward with such vigor that the cloth came flying off, revealing the identity of the object underneath. Even from a distance, the object was immediately recognizable as a sinister-looking gun. And its muzzle was, of course, pointed at the cottage. With the stock resting against their shoulder, the rower got in position to shoot. The four players reacted simultaneously. (12/22) Yuki leaped sideways. Airi took cover around a corner of the cottage. Koyomi crouched down where she was. Mozuku jumped inside through an open window. Several gunshots rang out. Is that all? Yuki wondered as she landed on the ground. Similar guns in manga and films always fired bullets in rapid succession with a ratatatatata, so Yuki had been expecting—and half hoping—to experience the same. Apparently, however, being shot at was not so exaggerated in real life. And because this was the real world, nobody had gotten hurt. Yuki regained her footing, and as she began sprinting at full speed toward the forest, she saw that Airi, Koyomi, and Mozuku were already taking flight. “I can’t believe her!” Yuki shouted while running. “Did she grab that gun from the ship?!” The identity of their assailant was immediately obvious—Essay. Nobody else would possibly launch an attack on them. She had to have sourced her equipment from the rescue ship they had spotted. If the culprit had been supplied with such a weapon to begin with, she would certainly have used it earlier. There was only one conceivable reason she had started using it at this point in time: The gun had not been on the island until moments ago. The organizers had likely brought it along for the purpose of executing the culprit, and Essay must have stolen it from the rescue ship. More gunshots rang out from behind. Yuki couldn’t stop herself from turning around to look. Fortunately, she and the other three were unharmed. Smoke was billowing up from several spots in the sand. It wasn’t that Essay was an inept markswoman; she was simply too far away. Since the group had remained cautious, Essay hadn’t been able to get within firing range. “Wh-what are we supposed to do?!” Mozuku shouted. The girl had something in her hands that she must have retrieved from the cottage. “What can we do but run?!” Koyomi replied. “Even if we outnumber her, we don’t stand a chance against a gun! As of now, our team is disbanded!” Koyomi was swinging her arms widely, dashing at full speed. Since she had been crouching down in the water a moment ago, the sleeves of her short coat were soaked, splattering droplets around. “Whoever gets targeted, no hard feelings! Sound good?!” (13/22) After stepping off the lifeboat, Essay dashed across the shore with submachine gun in hand. Ideally, she would have preferred to kill a player on the beach, but she had known from the start that was going to be unlikely. Each one of those four players was a death-game veteran. If they had been the kind to fall for the surprise ambush she had laid—although apparently, it had hardly been a surprise—the game would have been a breeze to begin with. Her targets were almost certainly cognizant of the ship’s arrival. That was why they had fled into the forest. If they managed to cut through the trees to the other side, it would be game over for Essay. She was not going to let that happen. Essay charged into the forest after the four players. The terrain presented both advantages and disadvantages. Because there was no shortage of obstacles that could shield against bullets, the threat of her gun was greatly diminished. But since it was difficult for anyone to maneuver silently, Essay could easily determine the others’ escape routes. Furthermore, she was neither wearing a swimsuit nor her mummy costume—she was in full gear. Compared to the other four, who were functionally naked and had to pay heed to every individual tree branch in their path, Essay had the advantage in agility. It would not be hard for her to catch her prey. The question was—whom should she target? She did not need to deliberate over the choice—Mozuku. The girl was playing in her tenth game, which made her the least experienced of the group. That would presumably also translate to her being the easiest to kill. In all likelihood, Mozuku had yet to learn to evade bullets by zigzagging through the trees, and she probably hadn’t developed the technique to detect hostility and accurately anticipate the timing of gunshots. Of course, Essay could almost certainly kill anyone she came across with her current equipment, but the standard practice was to go after the easiest target. When Essay had still had the implants on her side, Mozuku hadn’t been a high priority, but that no longer applied. The girl’s life was going to be hers. Essay immediately caught up to Mozuku. But contrary to Essay’s initial assumption, the girl seemed to have the ability to detect the presence of others; she turned around to look at her pursuer. Taking advantage of the split second in which Mozuku’s pace had slowed, Essay pointed the barrel of her gun at the girl— —and opened fire. Now that she was close enough to her target this time, she switched her gun to fully automatic mode. Mozuku dove behind a large tree nearby, but not before Essay confirmed that a bullet had struck her leg. “……!!” Mozuku let out an incoherent scream. Essay had landed a hit. Mozuku could no longer run away. Under these circumstances, finishing the job would be a piece of cake for Essay. She even felt assured enough to look away in order to replace her empty magazine, but… …she was forced to stop after she sensed hostility coming from in front of her. Essay looked up. Mozuku was peeking out from behind the tree, exposing about 70 percent of her body. Her hands were clasped together—but not in prayer. They were wrapped around an object shaped like a gun. Mozuku’s trigger finger twitched. (14/22) Essay reflexively dodged out of the way. Her mind was caught on how little noise the weapon had made the moment it had been fired. Out of both curiosity and the inertia from having evaded the attack, Essay half turned her body and saw the identity of the things that had hit the tree behind her. They were the pill-sized devices that had been embedded in the players’ bodies. Although only one gunshot had rung out, two implants had been fired. Wires extended from each of them, tracing back to the firearm in Mozuku’s hands. The weapon was a stun gun. Not only that, it was the kind that could shoot electrodes. Essay had not been provided one as the culprit, nor had any such item been on the rescue ship. In light of the fact that it made use of the implanted devices, the weapon could have only come from one source. “—You made that?” Mozuku offered no response to Essay’s surprised question. A closer look revealed that the gun had been rather crudely put together and lacked any touch of craftsmanship. It had undoubtedly been handmade. The cottages on the island had a supply of electricity, along with various appliances inside. It would not be impossible for someone with the relevant knowledge to make such a weapon from scratch. Essay thought back to what Mozuku had done during the game. Although Essay hadn’t been directly watching the girl, she had monitored the movement of her transmitters. For the entirety of the second and third days, Mozuku had remained in her cottage. Essay had wondered why the girl hadn’t been doing anything, but now everything made sense. Mozuku had cooped up inside in order to craft that weapon. Since it had been made with the implants, the girl must have completed it on or after the fourth day, but she had probably devised the idea of making a weapon long before that—quite possibly shortly after the start of the game. As Essay stood there, frozen in shock, Mozuku tossed aside her gun—and pulled out a second one. Before she could aim it, Essay moved. Not forward, but backward. She mimicked Mozuku’s action from earlier and took cover behind a tree. Mozuku presumably realized that hitting Essay would be undoable in their current positions, so no gunshot rang out, and Essay was not shot in the leg like Mozuku had been. Essay hadn’t anticipated this turn of events. How could Mozuku possibly have made a weapon like that? Essay was somewhat confident in her own intelligence, but not even she could ever pull that off. The situation was a stark reminder that one could not judge a book by its cover. Next, Essay wondered how powerful the gun was. While a handmade firearm would typically pale in comparison to a mass-produced one, the opposite applied to stun guns. As products for self-defense, stun guns on the market were purposefully designed to not be too powerful, but the gun in Mozuku’s hands had likely not been produced with that consideration in mind. One shot could lead to instant death. Although Essay had taken great care in modifying her body, it was not a perfect insulator. An electric shock could prove just as or even more lethal to her than to an average person. Judging there to be no other choice, Essay retreated even farther. She fell farther and farther back, fleeing the scene. With her reason for targeting the girl completely neutralized by the discovery that Mozuku had a weapon, Essay decided it was wise to cut her losses. She felt no panic. The game was not yet over. She had more than enough time to hunt down another player. (15/22) Essay’s hostile presence vanished. In response, Mozuku crumpled to the ground. She had already been sitting, but now she slumped even farther until she was lying on her face. Her eyes turned to the peashooter in her left hand. She casually pulled the trigger. With a weak pew!, two small devices that had previously been implanted in her body came flying out. “…Thank goodness…,” Mozuku muttered while basking in the joy of being alive. Then she tossed away her trump card—a peashooter that did nothing beyond firing devices. It had all been a giant bluff. A stun gun shaped like a firearm that could shoot electrodes? Although Mozuku had desperately wanted to make one, her efforts hadn’t panned out. While she had studied electrical engineering in college, she had dropped out in her sophomore year, so lacked the specialized knowledge to build one. She had never regretted not studying harder as much as she did now. With no other choice, Mozuku had instead opted to bluff her way through by making an object that resembled a stun gun. Since Essay had used electrical shocks to paralyze and kill her victims, she had to be at least subconsciously aware of the danger the implants presented. That was why Mozuku had gambled on Essay retreating—and fortunately enough, the scenario had played out according to plan. Not even a player in the fifty-game club could read her enemies’ minds. Mozuku flipped over onto her back and put a hand to her pounding heart. She was mostly feeling fear, a natural reaction after playing a trick on a player well above her caliber. At the same time, however, Mozuku couldn’t deny feeling a certain sense of exhilaration. Her soul felt like it was floating on air, in what could only be described as a rush of dopamine. She had stumbled upon something that had eluded her. After dropping out of college and society at large, she had been pulled inexorably into the death-game industry, but only now, in this moment, had she discovered something she could call her forte—a playstyle of “trickery.” As Mozuku reflected on this, her pulse returned to normal. She hurried toward the rescue ship, dragging her injured leg behind her. (16/22) Gunshots. Yuki was struck with terror as she sprinted through the forest. She heard them quite clearly, which meant Essay had to be close—extremely close. Had someone gotten shot? What had happened? Had Essay managed to kill a player? Was the game now over? The gunshots could have stopped for any number of reasons, but Yuki continued to run. Rushing to the ship was the best strategy. She had been following the shortest route to the opposite side of the island, but the sound of the gunshots had made her alter course and take a slight detour. She continued in the direction of the ship while doing her best to head away from the noise. And yet… “……!!” A short while later, Yuki sensed malice in the air. She immediately sprang into an evasive maneuver. She managed to dodge by the skin of her teeth. Something had zoomed through her hair at a high speed from behind. To protect her body, she clung like a stag beetle to the largest tree she could find. Yuki was impressed with herself. She had always been confident in her ability to detect hostility, but much to her surprise, it turned out she could also evade bullets. She attempted to calm the beating of her heart, unsure if her elevated pulse was the result of joy or fear. She took a quick peek around the tree in the direction from which she had been shot at. Essay was nowhere to be seen. Was the girl too far away to be visible, or was she hiding? Either way, the bullet that had flown at Yuki was no stray round, for she sensed hostility aimed straight at her, piercing the air more fiercely than any bullet. “…Guess I have to do this…,” Yuki muttered, pressing her forehead against the tree trunk. She’d had a gut feeling that this was how things were going to end up. It was not the outcome she had desired, but she knew her fate was unavoidable. The game would not end without a clash between Yuki and her fellow protégé, Essay. (17/22) Essay clicked her tongue in annoyance. Her prey had not cooperated with being hunted down. She had hoped to conceal her presence as much as she could, but the girl had dodged her shot by a hair. Yuki had been trained by Hakushi, just as Essay had been herself. The girl would not go down easily. However, the idea of changing targets did not cross Essay’s mind. The other two players, Airi and Koyomi, were also unmistakably skilled opponents, and even if she went to look for them, there was no guarantee she could catch them before they reached the ship. Besides, there was something about the situation that felt preordained. This encounter with her fellow protégé was nothing less than a message from the goddess of fate, telling her to crush Yuki once and for all. Consider it done, Essay thought. (18/22) Something had been stuck inside Essay’s head the entire week: The tremendously difficult-to-swallow truth she had learned from Koyomi on the first day of the game. Koyomi was a sworn friend of Hakushi’s, a death-game player from the pre-Candle Woods era. So Essay had been unable to suppress her curiosity. At the start of the game, after having been guided to Koyomi’s cottage, Essay had asked the woman how Hakushi had evaluated her. “A genius, in a negative sense,” Koyomi had answered. “A player who excels on the intelligence front but, perhaps as a result, has surprisingly odd misunderstandings from time to time. The type who enjoys temporary success but will eventually implode—or so she says.” “…I see,” Essay replied. “Don’t take it to heart. She’s always had a sharp tongue.” The lack of recognition from her mentor was upsetting. However, what stung Essay even more was the topic that came up shortly afterward. “That reminds me,” Koyomi said, “there was another player like you in that group we saw earlier. The girl who seemed like a phantom. Could that have been Yuki?” Essay had seen the other group of four on the beach while being guided to Koyomi’s cottage. Yuki had indeed been among them. “Yes, but why bring her up?” “Hmm? She’s another of Hakushi’s protégés, isn’t she? Did you not know that?” Essay had run into Yuki in multiple games in the past, but this was the first she’d heard of that. Yuki had probably also been unaware. “I wonder what she’s like. Hakushi seems to have high hopes for her…” —The moment those words reached Essay’s ears, an indescribable feeling rose up in her heart. “How so?” Essay asked on impulse. In a casual tone that implied an obliviousness to Essay’s discomposure, Koyomi replied, “Apparently, because she’s a phantom. She’s already dead, so there’s no way she’ll die, or something like that…” Essay was speechless. Her daze must have persisted for at least ten seconds. After finally noticing Essay’s abnormal state, Koyomi said, “Oh, but it’s not like Hakushi has low hopes for you, you know. You’ve cleared more games, right? Which means she has to be expecting even more out of you.” That’s not reassuring, Essay thought. From their past encounters, Essay knew full well Yuki’s capabilities as a player. In her eyes, the girl had a knack for the games, but she would never reach Essay’s level. Why did my mentor deem me an “imploding genius,” while having “high hopes” for her? Essay thought. Don’t be ridiculous. I refuse to accept that. Then her dumbfounded mind fixed itself in one direction. My mentor knew absolutely nothing. After a year and a half in retirement, even her keen eye has deteriorated. I’m following the high road. This is the right way. There’s nothing the slightest bit wrong about my way of doing things. That’s why I’ll clear fifty games. That’s why I currently have an advantage in this game. There’s not a chance in the world I’ll find myself beneath that phantom girl. And I’ll prove that by crushing her. (19/22) Over the past several days, one thing had been on Yuki’s mind: Essay’s strategy for the game. On the first day, Essay had dismembered her own body in her cottage to feign her death. The players had all fallen for the ruse—but Yuki was surprised that Essay had done so in the first place. In her mind, a protégé of Hakushi should never have embraced such a tactic. Hakushi was a legendary player who had cleared ninety-five games. Yet that record had no more value to her than that of a scarf she had abandoned knitting halfway through. Hakushi had only one goal: clearing ninety-nine games. With only four games standing between her and that objective, she had met an untimely demise. Although it seemed Hakushi had not actually passed away, her retirement implied that she was unable to return to a condition where she could participate again. The damage she had accumulated after playing in nearly a hundred games was preventing her from achieving her deepest desire. Essay should have known how Hakushi’s career had ended. In which case, she should have known not to willingly adopt a strategy that would harm her own body. And yet she had done exactly that. It was the ultimate lapse in judgement, a tiny rift in what had otherwise been a dominating performance. And because of it, Yuki believed she could fight back. It was her excuse to challenge a seasoned, fifty-game veteran. Exactly, she thought. Essay’s not perfect. She makes mistakes. I bet she sometimes lets her emotions get the better of her. Maybe she’s made even more blunders than I’m aware of. There’s no need to be frightened. Don’t hold up your opponent on a pedestal. You can win against her if you do things the right way. She may have an immortal body, but she doesn’t have the supernatural strength of a vampire or zombie. All that body of hers is good for is staving off death. The fact she’s dragged the game out until the very end and found herself a weapon proves it. She’s afraid of direct combat. I’ll have a shot at winning if I can do something about that gun. Even if I can’t kill her, I can at least incapacitate her and escape to the ship. Yuki left the shade of the tree. With her destination in mind, she took off at full speed. (20/22) Yuki had to keep running. If she froze for even a second, she would be shot. She couldn’t run in a straight line, either. If Essay figured out her movements, she would be shot. And so, while sometimes using trees as cover, other times moving in unpredictable ways, and even on occasion sniffing out hostility in the air, Yuki dodged the incoming attacks by a whisker. She continued to evade the barrages of bullets for several minutes, putting on a performance that could alter the very future of ground warfare if the world managed to replicate her technique. Ideally, Yuki would be able to continue in the same fashion until she reached the ship, but she saw that as a hopeless undertaking. That was why she headed toward a completely different location, one that would serve as the jaws of death for Essay—and Yuki. Countless sharp stalks of bamboo were jutting out of the ground—a trap Maguma had set. Her hideout was nearby. But Yuki was not going there to seek Maguma’s help. After all, the woman had likely already left the area and already reached the rescue ship. Still, everything she had created was perfectly usable. Tricking Essay into falling into a trap—was not Yuki’s plan, either. She had the opposite in mind. “I refuse to go down without putting up a fight!” Yuki yelled. And then she laid bare her strategy, as clear as day. “I’d rather kill myself than fall into your hands!” (21/22) It was a gamble. If Essay’s condition for clearing the game was simply the deaths of three or more players, then Yuki’s declaration would be completely pointless. Go right ahead, Essay would say. And after Yuki fell into one of the many traps in the area, it would be game over. Essay would earn the distinction of having cleared fifty games. However—what if it was not the deaths of three players Essay needed, but their murders? Then, the situation would be reversed. Essay would be forced to keep Yuki from dying. If her prey slaughtered itself, Essay would no longer be able to satisfy the necessary conditions for victory. Yuki believed it was highly likely that Essay had been instructed to murder the other players. The game, after all, had been modeled after a closed circle mystery. If Essay let Yuki slip through her fingers, she would likely not have enough time to locate a new target. Yuki’s life was inextricably linked with Essay’s own. The strategy was foolproof. The only issue was that Yuki would die alongside Essay. That was why Yuki had to inject a little ingenuity into her plan. Yuki’s legs gave way from underneath. The entire area, around three feet in diameter, caved into the ground. It was a pitfall trap, the same kind as the one Yuki had fallen into on the third day. After confirming that the pit was densely lined with bamboo spears, she desperately clung to the wall to avoid getting skewered. She stuck all ten of her fingers into the dirt and managed to avoid falling to the bottom. Someone watching all this, however, would not be able to tell what had happened to Yuki. And so, Essay had no choice but to peek into the hole. She had to confirm whether Yuki was still alive, and if she was, Essay would need to ensure the cause of the girl’s death was not “skewering” but “gunshot.” Yuki listened to Essay’s approaching footsteps through the wall of earth. Like a spider, swiftly and quietly, Yuki climbed the wall of the pit. Essay’s shadow loomed over Yuki. At the same time, Yuki reached up and grabbed Essay’s leg. She pulled, sending Essay toppling over. Now back above ground, Yuki used all her might to pry the submachine gun out of Essay’s hands before her opponent could reposition it. As Yuki suspected, Essay wasn’t exactly strong, so wrestling the weapon away was no difficult task. With no time to read any instruction manual, Yuki pointed the barrel of the gun at Essay and pulled the trigger. Bullets came flying out in rapid succession. The magazine ran empty in two seconds flat. The recoil had been stronger than Yuki expected and had forced the gun upward, which meant only around half the bullets had hit Essay. Having been shot at point-blank range, Essay naturally ended up slumping down onto the ground, but, to little surprise, the damage had not been fatal. In a seamless motion, she got back onto her feet, pulled out her machete, and swung at Yuki. Yuki defended herself with the body of the gun. Then she swiped the machete from Essay’s hands. Although her opponent was clad in full-body armor, like a member of a special forces unit, Yuki thrust the blade into the only spot that was lightly guarded—Essay’s neck. Essay collapsed onto the ground but still continued to move. Since Essay was attempting to pull the machete out of her neck, Yuki got on top of her to thwart her efforts. Then Yuki swung at Essay, alternating with both fists, but the sensation was like punching through air. “The heck are your vitals, you damn freak?!” Even while flinging ungrammatical words of abuse at her opponent, Yuki continued her assault. Despite Essay’s attempts at resisting, Yuki deftly held her down, pried off her armor, and ripped off the bandages underneath, revealing the girl’s cobbled-together body, which brought to mind Frankenstein’s monster. Yuki shoved her hand into the stitching of Essay’s body and pulled out the first thing she came in contact with—a lung. She plunged her hand back in, next pulling out Essay’s heart. She continued the act, alternating hands to extract Essay’s organs one after another—a liver, stomach tissue, small intestine, large intestine, kidneys, and even parts whose names she couldn’t immediately recall. Whatever had been keeping Essay’s body together Yuki tore apart with the ease of plucking grapes. Unbelievably, Essay continued to resist even after losing all of her internal organs, so Yuki had no choice but to go after her bones and muscles next. Yuki was no stranger to killing, but this was her first time thoroughly dismantling a human body. Just as she was beginning to feel respect for the psychopath at having repeated such an exhausting act— —at last, Essay ceased to move. Yuki stopped her onslaught. The girl did not seem to be playing dead. Yuki waited around for a while, but Essay’s body lay completely still. “…Good game,” Yuki said. She wiped the white fluff off her hands and left the scene. (22/22)