Chapter 25

(0/47) Shion awoke in a pumpkin patch. (1/47) She was lying in the dirt. As she had been positioned with her right cheek to the ground, her skin felt chilly and moist, and the smell of the earth assaulted her nostrils. Shion sat up while brushing dirt off her face. It was a pumpkin patch. Shion was surrounded, quite literally, by mountains of pumpkins. The gourds were piled high, such that the lowest heaps measured roughly as tall as her, while the tallest ones towered at around two to three times her height. Shion had no clue how pumpkins were grown, but she didn’t believe they would naturally form mountains like these. The organizers must have deliberately placed them like this about the venue. That theory was corroborated by the existence of numerous hollowed-out pumpkins with light sources inside. The dark sky indicated that it was the middle of the night, but the light from the pumpkins ensured sufficient visibility. As for why there were pumpkins, the reason was immediately obvious. Shion recalled the name of the game—Halloween Night. She tugged at the clothes on her body. She had been dressed in a black robe. A black pointed hat rested on the ground nearby. That was the outfit: a witch costume for a Halloween-themed game. Upon picking up the hat, Shion discovered a basket with a handle underneath that was filled with various individually wrapped treats, including candy, cookies, chocolates, and mini-donuts—yet another essential item for Halloween. It was common knowledge in the industry that any food found in a game would not be poisoned. Food items only served one purpose: to stave off hunger. Even in escape games that pitted players against lethal traps, food represented a safe haven. As this was Shion’s thirtieth game, she was well aware of this principle. That was why she had no hesitation in taking out a person-shaped gingerbread cookie from its wrapping and sticking it in her mouth. But the next moment— “……?!” Shion had a violent coughing fit. Unable to endure the feeling, she spat out the cookie onto the ground. The half-bitten human-shaped cookie, now slightly soggy from her saliva, stared at her with a smile that said, Gotcha! Shion buried it in the dirt to deprive the thing of its sight. The cookie was extremely spicy. The pungent taste was not solely that of ginger, but rather a blend of various different spices. Some sweets were intentionally crafted with distinctively overpowering tastes that made them nearly inedible, but this cookie was different: Its taste profile had not been designed for enjoyment. What, then, was its purpose? Was it not meant to be eaten? (2/47) Shion wandered the pumpkin patch. No matter where she walked, however, she could see nothing but gourds in every direction. It was as if the area was a graveyard or disposal site exclusively for pumpkins, or as if every single grain of sand in a desert had transformed into a pumpkin. Their sizes varied widely; some were of an ordinary size that could be found in a grocery store, while others were large enough to fit her entire body inside. Shion continued walking while paying close attention to her surroundings. The pumpkin walls that towered over her connected to form paths, albeit not of uniform widths. Some paths were wide enough such that ten people of Shion’s build could walk side by side, while others were so narrow they could only be traversed by curling up one’s body. Shion also frequently ran into branching paths, intersections, and dead ends. Although the pumpkin patch was not as complicated as a maze, it had still been designed to be fairly intricate. The walls of pumpkins reduced overall visibility, making it impossible to discern the size of the venue and the total player count. Climbing a wall would offer a better view of the venue, but Shion was reluctant to do so, as there was no guarantee the pumpkins would not give out from under her. As many people in the world were aware, pumpkins were spherical in shape. Since these pumpkins had been piled up into mountains without being fixed in place, they could come tumbling down at any time. Just walking near them was enough to put her on edge. She touched her shoulder—the spot where she had gotten shot. A sharp pain ran through it. The medical technology of the organizers was capable of restoring torn-off limbs to their original condition, but it could not immediately reverse gunshot wounds. Although Shion could still move her shoulder as long as she endured the pain, she was forced to acknowledge that she was not in the best shape. Nevertheless, her current situation was far preferable to being killed in an alleyway. She had escaped by the skin of her teeth. If her agent hadn’t felt inclined to save her, she would most certainly be lying dead. Shion had figured some players were coming after her, but she had never expected anyone to go to such lengths. Where had they obtained pistols with silencers? Regardless, now that she was being pursued by violent attackers, it was over for her. She had no prospects of staying in the industry. As soon as this game ended, she would have to immediately go into hiding. To pull that off, she needed to survive the night. It was just her luck that this game was her thirtieth. The Wall of Thirty—a superstition that had long been whispered throughout the industry. Around a player’s thirtieth game, for some reason, accidents that seemed unfathomable under normal circumstances would occur one after another, making their odds of survival plummet. Shion had dismissed those supernatural stories as fiction, but considering that her identity had been exposed and she had been forced to flee into a game, she had no choice but to acknowledge the existence of the curse. Shion was standing on the brink of death. That was the unshakable truth. She heard footsteps coming from up ahead. There were three sets in total, all approaching her. The walls of pumpkins obstructed Shion’s view of their source. Were they enemies or allies? After some thought, Shion decided to come face-to-face with them. She stood in place, waiting for them to turn the corner. Soon, three individuals came into view. (3/47) All three were short in height. They were kids around elementary school age, and each had on a costume appropriate for Halloween. From right to left, there was a ghost with a white cloth draped over their body, a western vampire wearing a pumpkin head with eyeholes, and a Chinese jiangshi vampire with a talisman attached to their forehead. Since their faces were covered, it was impossible to tell what they looked like. All three were carrying weapons: a club for the ghost, a sword for the vampire, and a pair of tonfa batons for the jiangshi. Shion stayed on alert. She didn’t immediately flee for two reasons. First, none of the kids had ranged weapons, so she determined she had the luxury of waiting to see how they would act. And second, she sensed zero malice from the kids, despite the fact that they were holding brutal weapons inappropriate for their age. They weren’t eager to enter into a violent battle—at least, not for the time being. Shion waited patiently in place, and the children stopped in their tracks a few yards from where she was standing. The vampire in the center shook their head. “Trick or treat!” The shrill, falsetto voice resembled the nocturnal hooting of an owl. That, combined with the quiet volume of the voice, meant Shion couldn’t pinpoint the vampire’s age or gender. Shion remained silent, but soon the vampire repeated the same phrase. “Trick or treat!” Shion then realized that children were staring not at her, but rather at the basket hanging from her left arm. More precisely, they were pointing at the items inside the basket. Given what the vampire had just said, it was clear what the three were seeking. She pointed at the treats in her basket. “You want these?” The kids nodded. “Who are you anyway? Players?” This time, the three shook their heads. They were not players. In which case, they must have been brought into the game by the organizers. That had to be true, as they had on different outfits from Shion’s and were carrying weapons. “How many do you want? One each?” The children nodded. Since walking up and handing over the treats directly seemed dangerous, Shion tossed a bag to each kid. They ripped open the wrappers and, as Shion had done earlier, ate the food without the slightest hesitation. The next moment… “…Hee! Hee! Hee!” The children squealed as they broke out into a run. Unlike Shion, they did not spit anything out onto the ground. They frantically ran about, as if trying to withstand the spicy flavor spreading inside their mouths. Soon, two of them disappeared, and the third one stumbled over a pumpkin before immediately getting back onto their feet and vanishing. “…Now I get it,” Shion muttered to herself once the area fell quiet. “So that’s one rule.” There were likely many such children wandering the pumpkin patch. Any player who encountered them would have to give each kid a treat. Refusing to hand any over or having none on hand would result in a “trick”—which most likely involved being killed with those threatening weapons. She understood the mechanics of the game. Then she began to wonder about the conditions for victory. Was this an escape game where players had to exit the pumpkin patch before running out of treats? Or was this a survival game requiring them to stick it out until the children had murdered a certain number of players? Shion looked inside her basket, which now had four fewer bags than it had started with. Would it be possible to replenish her stock? Were there extra treats hidden somewhere in the pumpkin patch, or would she have to steal from other players? In the latter case, obtaining a weapon from a kid would prove helpful, but would she be able to get her hands on one? She could feel herself starting to focus on the game. She pulled down the sleeves of her robe to hide her arm tattoos and resumed walking. (4/47) Yuki woke up. (5/47) It was no natural awakening. Yuki sprang up and took stock of her situation in no more than three seconds. She had joined her forty-fifth game—Halloween Night. It was nighttime, and the game was, by all appearances, set in a pumpkin patch. She was wearing a black robe, and a pointed hat lay on the ground beside her. She had been put in a witch costume to match the game’s Halloween theme. Yuki turned her attention to the source of her awakening—multiple sets of footsteps coming from nearby. She scanned her surroundings. Mountains of pumpkins restricted the paths available to her, but at the very least, making a quick escape from the area did not seem impossible. However, Yuki did not flee, as the beings whose footsteps were inching closer gave off no hint of malice. Ever since her encounter with the psychopath in Candle Woods, Yuki had gained the ability to sense such signs in the air; she could tell if someone was friend or foe without the need to look at them. Dusting off dirt from her robe, Yuki stayed where she was. Three children appeared. Like Yuki, they were all dressed in costumes appropriate for Halloween. From right to left, there was a ghost, a western vampire, and a jiangshi. Their short statures suggested that they were around grade school age, but since their faces were covered, Yuki was unable to verify the truth. “Trick or treat!” said the vampire in the center. Their voice was awfully shrill, like that of a hamster being strangled. Yuki remained perfectly still and carefully observed the children. “Trick or treat!” the vampire repeated. Each of the children was carrying a weapon. The ghost had a club. The vampire had a sword. The jiangshi had a pair of tonfa batons. Since Yuki had not been supplied a weapon, and since it appeared the children would only say the same phrase over and over, she concluded they were not players. The organizers must have brought them here as an element of the game. Next, Yuki considered the vampire’s words: trick or treat. Obviously, she knew what the phrase meant, but unfortunately, she had no candy on hand, which meant “treat” was unavailable to her as an option. She had to choose “trick.” And in this instance, the trick would likely involve… What should I do? Yuki wondered. Just then, she noticed the children were looking in an unusual direction. Yuki traced their gazes to the witch’s hat. It was an accessory of her game outfit, one that would complete her witch outfit when paired with her robe. Curious as to why the children were looking at it, Yuki picked it up and discovered a basket filled with sweets underneath. Her doubts vanished; she had been provided with a certain number of treats in advance. Yuki grabbed a few bags and tossed one to each kid. She feared they might ask for more, but that was needless worry. The children ripped open the wrappers and tossed the treats into their mouths. “Hee! Hee! Hee!” The kids ran off screaming, leaving Yuki all alone. Yuki made a confused face. Was that enough to satisfy them? For some reason, their voices sounded rather sad. That was no normal reaction to eating sweets; rather, it seemed more like how someone would react to eating something bitter, spicy, or just plain disgusting. Yuki picked up one of the treats in her basket—a marshmallow with a ghost’s face on it. While it looked scrumptious, after hearing those pained screams, she was disinclined to try it. Typically, food items found in games were a perk for players. Yuki labeled such items “game food” and always looked forward to seeing what the next game would have in store. This time, however, it seemed the circumstances were different—an anomaly. Yuki put on the pointed hat and carried the basket on her arm. She decided to wander around the vicinity for the time being. Yet no matter how far she walked, the pumpkin patch remained unchanging. The venue was, for all intents and purposes, a maze that was partitioned by walls formed from pumpkins stacked in piles taller than her. Most of the gourds were fully intact, but some had been hollowed out to accommodate surveillance cameras or lighting equipment. As such, there was no issue with visibility, even though it was the middle of the night. Yuki pondered the nature of the game. Halloween Night. True to the game’s name, the theme of Halloween was on full display. Yuki had also just experienced one of the mechanics of the game: Players had to hand out treats to trick-or-treating children. Since many kids wandered around the venue, it was easy to infer that the “trick” that would occur when one ran out of candy involved being killed at their hands. However, that was all she managed to figure out. She had yet to grasp the full picture of the game. What were the conditions for victory? How large was the game? Considering recent events, Yuki felt the player count was of particular significance, as it would directly affect the probability of running into the tattooed player—the Garbage Prison killer. Although the chances of being in the same game as a specific player were fairly low, Yuki couldn’t help but worry. On top of that, there was another concern on Yuki’s mind, one that was unrelated to the game at hand. She closed her left eye and looked around with only her right eye—the eye she had gotten examined a few days ago. The sight of the pumpkin patch filled her retina. It didn’t feel any different than when she looked with both eyes. It didn’t feel like there were any issues with her vision. However, Yuki knew that was nothing more than an illusion. The deterioration of her eyesight was steadily progressing, even at this very moment. The most she could do was avoid burdening her eye any further— After thinking that, footsteps once again approached from somewhere in front of her. This time, however, there was only a single set. Was it another kid? Or a player? Yuki felt no danger, so she continued forward without slowing her pace. Before long, she came face-to-face with the source of the footsteps. Yuki’s eyes went wide at the sight. She knew this person. (6/47) It was one of the girls from Kirihara’s mansion—either Haine or Kokone. Yuki was unable to tell them apart, but it had to be one or the other. The girl was wearing a black robe instead of a dull-colored housekeeper dress, but her face and ramrod-straight posture were unmistakable. It couldn’t have been anyone else. “Ah… G-good evening,” Yuki stammered out, on account of her shock. The other girl appeared to share Yuki’s surprise. Haine—or perhaps, Kokone—blinked several times before responding, “Good evening.” “So um… Which one are you? Haine? Or Kokone?” “Haine. My younger sister is not here.” It seemed Haine was the elder of the twins. Yuki posed another question. “Haine, are you a player?” “Yes, although I have not joined a game in quite a while… But what are you doing here, Yuki? I was under the impression you had decided to not pursue the matter any further.” “Huh? What are you talking about?” “……?” “?” The two girls stared blankly at each other for several seconds, before Haine broke the silence. “…Don’t tell me, did you join this game out of mere coincidence?” “I guess. Is that bad?” “No, but… You truly are lucky, Yuki.” Keito had said something similar to her before. “Please stay calm,” Haine continued. “The tattooed player is most likely in this game.” Yuki failed to follow the girl’s instructions and was taken aback. Even though she had only just vowed to not burden her right eye any further, both of her eyes reflexively shot wide open. “I joined this game in pursuit of her.” “Um… How do you know she’s here?” Details about when and what game a player had joined were kept confidential. If such information was made publicly available, multiple players could join forces and enter the same game as a team. “She and I expressed our intention to join a game at nearly the same time,” Haine said. “I have been searching for the tattooed player ever since you and I met…” The girl explained the entire situation to Yuki. About how Haine and Kokone had teamed up with Keito and dozens of other players to look for the tattooed player. About how they had managed to track her down with a little luck. About how they had been inches away from a successful assassination, when the tattooed player had contacted her agent and escaped by joining a game. About how Haine had called her own agent moments later and agreed to enter a game, assuming it to be the same one the tattooed player had joined. “The tattooed player is a girl by the name of Shion,” Haine said. “She is around middle school age, and besides her tattoos, she has few distinguishing characteristics. Have you seen her?” Yuki shook her head before adding, “I haven’t, unfortunately.” “I see.” Yuki glanced in the direction of Haine’s arm. She was not looking at the girl’s arm, nor did she have tattoos on her mind; rather, she was checking the contents of Haine’s basket. The girl had fewer bags of sweets than Yuki. “Um, by the way, have you run into any kids yet?” Yuki asked. “Ones in Halloween costumes with face coverings. They have weird voices and go, ‘Trick or treat’…” “Yes, multiple times,” Haine responded. That made sense, since the girl had presumably been awake and playing longer than Yuki. “What kind of game is this?” Yuki asked. “I’d appreciate it if you could explain the rules…” As Yuki had done moments before, Haine shook her head. “I do not understand much of the game myself. Do we simply have to escape from this pumpkin patch? Must we wait until a certain number of players are killed? Will we need to continue handing out treats until the children are full? All those possibilities are still plausible at present. “However,” Haine continued, “if I were to offer you my personal assessment of our situation, I believe clearing this game would be most difficult if it is a survival game.” Oddly enough, Yuki shared the same opinion. Children would attack players unless they were handed treats. A survival game would enable the nastiest rules imaginable from that setup. And considering the nature of the games, the most difficult, nastiest rules imaginable were the most likely to actually be reality. “I wish to search for Shion, so if you will excuse me.” Haine politely bowed. “I pray we may meet again.” The girl passed by Yuki, who watched as Haine grew smaller and smaller, until the girl finally disappeared behind a wall of pumpkins. (7/47) Haine strode briskly through the pumpkin patch. She had been shocked to learn that girl had also joined the game. Haine had been half retired as a player and was not up-to-date on industry rumors, but she had learned of the girl’s background from Keito. Yuki—the girl who had slain Kyara, the psychopath who had sent hundreds of players to their graves. If that was true, then it was entirely possible Yuki would accomplish something similar in this game. Just as she had eliminated the threat of Kyara in Candle Woods, she could very well be the one to take down Shion, the tattooed player who had committed a large-scale massacre in Garbage Prison. Haine was unsure as to whether that would be a welcome outcome or a vexing one. After all, she wished to take Shion’s life with her own hands. (8/47) Haine and Kokone were servants of the Kirihara residence. Like how Kirihara had quit being a player and transitioned into becoming a tattoo artist, the two girls had left the player life some time ago to begin working for the woman. Although they had not fully retired, for all intents and purposes, their careers were over. Several years had passed since they first began serving Kirihara. Haine felt a deep bond with her master. They were like family—no—more than family. Kirihara was far more important to Haine than those people had been. Haine and Kokone were runaways, having fled from home before even finishing middle school. They never explained the reason to anyone, nor did they have intention of explaining—not even to Kirihara. They intended to take the secret to their graves. However, if there was anything Haine was willing to say, it would be that the motivational aphorism “expressing gratitude to your parents will lead to happiness” was by no means a principle that applied to all households. Likewise, the saying that went, “home cooking loses its flavor only when you have forgotten your gratitude toward your parents” was a foolish idea championed by those blessed with respectable parents. Young people were moving away from the countryside not because of inconvenient transportation or because rural areas were inherently unappealing, but rather because they had grown tired of the people living there. In any case, Haine and Kokone did not want to spend even a single second more with the creatures who had given birth to them, and so, like cats aware of their own impending death, they had left home without warning. Unfortunately, Japan was not such a forgiving country that two minors could fend for themselves. To carry on living, the two of them became players. Thanks to the organizers, they were able to secure the basic necessities of clothing, food, and shelter, but at the cost of constant brushes with death. Unless they continued on as players, they would lose the protection of the organizers, and without the support of the organizers, they could not survive on their own. And then Kirihara extended a helping hand. She was a former player and understood full well the twins’ situation, so she took them in as servants. As a result, Haine and Kokone were able to quit being players. While Kirihara’s line of work meant that their lives were not entirely free of danger, they had managed to escape the violent world where death could befall them at any time. One day, Haine had asked Kirihara why she had saved them. “—I simply wanted the extra help,” Kirihara had answered. “It’s not like I have any praiseworthy desire to save people. You two are the only ones working for me, right? Even though I could hire a hundred people if I so wanted.” Kirihara had dodged the question, leaving her true feelings unknown. It was possible she had been too embarrassed to speak the truth, or maybe she had been truthful about simply hiring them on a whim. Regardless, Kirihara was Haine’s one and only savior. And she had been ripped away from out of nowhere. Haine had not been unprepared for the possibility. After all, Kirihara was a former player. Anyone who had cleared close to thirty games had the potential to have sparked plenty of grudges along the way. Even after Kirihara became a tattoo artist, her background necessitated she take on clients of dubious character, so she was by no means a saint. If the reason for her murder had to do with her work or background, it would not have been difficult for Haine to accept. Yet—what was this madness? Kirihara had been killed because of a game she had absolutely no involvement with, for the sole purpose of destroying evidence. How could something like that go unpunished? It was completely outrageous. Haine had no intention of taking it lying down. It’s my turn, Haine thought. I’ll kill that girl and avenge my master however I can. To chase after Shion, Haine had joined her first game in half a year. However, she could not care less about the game itself. She was fine with sacrificing her own life to bring Shion down. Survival meant nothing to her, as long as she could kill that girl. That was why Haine was making little effort to boost her chances of clearing the game. She made no attempts to evade the children upon sensing their footsteps, nor did she try to steal treats from other players. She was not looking for ways to replenish her basket, either. Her attention was devoted to searching for her target in the pumpkin patch, as she generously handed out sweets to the children who occasionally crossed her path. Haine ran into Shion when her basket had been depleted by half. (9/47) Shion was leaning against a large pumpkin. Haine could clearly make out her figure thanks to the light coming from inside a nearby pumpkin. Although the girl’s robe covered her arms, making it impossible to confirm the presence of tattoos, Haine remembered the girl’s face and physique. Shion was already looking at Haine. It appeared she had noticed her appearance from the sound of Haine’s footsteps. However, there was clearly surprise on Shion’s face. She must have been expecting to see children rather than a player, as the girl had already adopted a throwing posture, with her basket in one hand and a treat in the other. Haine watched as Shion let go of the candy, which fell back into her half-empty basket with a rustle. Haine tensed up. Her wish had been granted. She had located Shion. However, this was the time to remain calm. The critical part was about to begin. Letting her slip away would accomplish absolutely nothing. Haine had to finish her off here, once and for all. Shion reacted the same way one would respond to encountering any other player. She showed no signs of having intuited Haine’s identity. That was not surprising, for the two of them had only encountered each other once before, and back then, Haine’s face had been covered. Shion couldn’t have known that Haine had been among the vigilante group that had attacked her, and that the maid had joined the game in pursuit of her. And obviously, there was no way for Shion to know about the fierce grudge rooted in Haine’s heart. Calm down. Don’t lose yourself to your emotions and pounce. Just sidle up to her and bring her down in one fell swoop. “—Good evening,” Haine said, adopting a veneer of calm. She was comfortable with acting as a servant, so her performance was surely convincing. “…Hello,” Shion replied. The girl’s response oozed with caution. Even if Shion regarded Haine as just another player, she still remained wary. Considering the rules of the game, that was the natural reaction. The majority of players Haine had encountered along the way had responded in the same fashion. The only exception was that phantom-like player, Yuki, but even she had probably been on her guard beneath the surface. In this game, running out of treats meant death. As such, it was normal to want to secure as many as possible. There were two primary ways of achieving that—either by hanging on to the treats already in one’s possession or by increasing your supply. Haine had learned just how difficult the former option would be. According to another player she had encountered, the children were not simply wandering around the venue; they had full knowledge of the players’ locations. Even if a player attempted to avoid detection by hiding in a mountain of pumpkins or by burying themselves underground, the kids would be able to find them without fail. That player had speculated the children were either watching the footage from the surveillance cameras or receiving players’ location data from transmitters embedded in treats or baskets. Haine was inclined to agree; the very foundation would crumble if it was possible to evade the children by simply hiding. In comparison, the latter strategy—increasing one’s supply of treats—was extremely simple to envision. To say nothing of how easy it would be to pull off, the method was immediately obvious: steal from other players. The purest form of robbery, without the frills of a trick or treat. Haine had already seen evidence of several muggings already having taken place. An empty basket on the ground next to a trail of blood that had turned into white fluff via the Preservation Treatment. A brutally dismembered corpse of a player, despite it being far too early in the game for anyone to have run out of candy. Shion must have also witnessed such scenes, which would explain why she was being cautious toward Haine. Haine didn’t expect to be able to get within arm’s reach of Shion. That meant she would have to use a projectile. Haine silently bowed and resumed walking—not toward Shion but rather toward a destination past where the girl was sitting. Right as she passed in front of Shion, however, she made her move. With her body blocking one of her arms from Shion’s line of sight, Haine slid the handle of her basket from her elbow along her forearm, across her wrist, and into her palm. Then she balled up her hand into a fist and firmly grasped the handle. The next moment, she hurled the basket at Shion, treats and all. (10/47) Embarrassingly enough, Shion had utterly failed to notice the other girl moving. She hadn’t seen or heard anything. The next thing she knew, the basket hanging from the girl’s arm had moved to her hand and was now flying through the air. Shion could only respond with the amateur maneuver of instinctively guarding herself by lifting up her arms. By the time the basket hit her arm and fell to the ground, scattering treats everywhere, the other girl was standing right in front of her. She was around high school age, which made her much larger than Shion. Taking advantage of their difference in physique, the girl grabbed Shion by the shoulders, causing Shion to flinch in pain and rendering her unable to resist as she was pushed against the wall of pumpkins behind her. The other girl let go of Shion’s shoulders and began throwing punches at her face. One punch. A second punch. When the third punch came, Shion managed to guard by grabbing the girl’s fist. Then she grabbed the girl’s other arm. Their hands occupied, the two girls grappled with each other. In the course of the struggle, Shion’s pointed hat fell onto the ground, and the part of her robe covering her right arm flipped back, exposing her prominent tattoo in the moonlight. Her opponent glanced at it for a second before immediately returning her gaze to Shion. “I have been looking for you,” the girl said, unexpectedly striking up a conversation. “Now I finally have you. I won’t let you get away.” “Huh…?” Shion’s face stung where she had been punched. Wincing from the pain, she replied, “Who the hell are you?” The girl had spotted one of her tattoos. If she had heard the stories of Garbage Prison, she must have realized that the person behind the incident was none other than Shion. So why had she not lost the will to fight in the face of such a dangerous player? Why had she been looking for Shion? The answer was revealed to her seconds later. “I’m Haine—Kanami Kirihara’s servant.” Shion was startled. She had no memory of seeing such a girl when she’d visited Kirihara to get a tattoo long ago. “She hired a servant?” There came no reply. The girl—Haine, apparently—casually shook off Shion’s hand from hers and threw another punch at Shion’s face. Kirihara’s servant. The question of why the girl was here could wait. Shion had to go on the counterattack, and fast. But much to her chagrin, she was unable to mount much of a resistance as the barrage of punches continued. That was no surprise, as their size difference was far too great. At fourteen, Shion was not yet fully grown, while her opponent belonged to an older age group. Body size played a significant role in determining the outcome of a bare-knuckle fight. There was nothing Shion could do. Despite being an expert at killing—or rather, because she was an expert at killing—Shion knew full well she was completely helpless. All that mattered for strength was one’s height and weight. And everything depended on who could get on top of the other. The only way to upend that principle would be to introduce a weapon into the fray. Shion attempted to search for anything she could use against her assailant, relying on her sense of touch. She located a pumpkin that was around the size of a rugby ball. Even grade schoolers knew that pumpkins were hard objects. Shion had long thought about using one as a blunt weapon. And since she was currently being pressed up against a literal wall of pumpkins, finding one small enough to wield with one hand presented no trouble whatsoever. Showing no mercy, Shion thrust down the gourd straight at Haine’s head. However, she missed her target. The exact moment she attacked, Haine had created distance between them. Shion wondered why as she felt her arm swing through the empty air, but the answer came to her one second later in the form of a stinging pain in her stomach. “……!!” Agony. Haine had kicked Shion in the pit of her stomach. Shion slumped forward, unable to properly breathe. After somehow managing to find the energy to lift her head, Shion watched as Haine picked up the pumpkin she had dropped. Shit, she thought. Shion felt as though she was being pulled apart; her body refused to budge, while her mind urged her to move. It was nothing short of luck that the force of Haine’s kick sent the wall of pumpkins crashing down. (11/47) Shion had anticipated the possibility that something like that would happen. The pumpkins were neither fixed to the ground nor tied together by string. In fact, it had seemed strange to her that such round objects could remain stable when stacked on top of each other. As a result, Shion was the first to react when the pumpkin wall began to sway. Dashing away at the speed of a fleeing hare was impossible on account of the pain in her stomach—but she managed to retreat by crawling out of range of the pumpkins that rained down onto the ground at the mercy of gravity. Whomp, whomp, whomp, whomp. The sound of pumpkins slamming against the ground and hitting other pumpkins filled the air, like a large drum being beaten over and over. While on all fours, Shion looked back. Dust was rising up from the soil. Pumpkins lay scattered all over the ground. However, Shion cared for neither of those facts. There was only one thing on her mind—whether Haine had escaped in time. The gourds that had made up the wall were of various sizes. Some were adorably small, while others were giant enough to be lethal upon landing on someone’s head. Had it worked? Was Haine dead? Had the pumpkins cracked open her skull? There was no verbal reply from the girl. Instead, Shion learned the answer when a pumpkin came flying through the dust. In a fluster, Shion scampered to dodge the attack. She resumed moving on all fours in an attempt to leave the area as quickly as possible. “Get back here!” Haine shouted from behind. “How dare you keep on living freely after killing dozens!” The girl’s accusation made no sense to Shion. “Isn’t that a given?!” Shion replied. “Why the hell would I ever off myself?! Don’t try to lay blame on me!” “That’s rich coming from a murderer!” “Like you’re any different!” Shion shouted. She snapped back not only for the reason that she despised being on the receiving end of an argument, but also in the hopes that speaking would get some chemicals going in her brain that would let her move even the slightest bit faster. “You’re here for revenge, yeah? So what? You think killing is any different if it’s for vengeance? If it’s in a game? If it’s to settle a duel? If it’s for someone else’s sake? Like hell it is!” Shion continued to roar. “Former players have no right to complain about getting killed! It’s like us right now! We’re just two people messing around, fighting to the death! That’s all there is to it, dumbass!” “Silence! Don’t think you have the right to say anything more!” Shion felt a tug on her body. She turned around to see that Haine had grabbed her ankle. Before Shion could process the fact that Haine had caught up with her, a hard stomp came down on her back. Her torso was pressed against the ground, but she felt her left leg rising up into the air. Haine had lifted it up. Shion didn’t stop to wonder why the girl had done such a thing. Immediately afterward, the pain Shion had expected rocketed through her left leg. “…AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH!!” Shion screamed. Her leg was broken. Nothing beyond her left shin felt like it was part of her body anymore. She didn’t know exactly what had happened—whether she had been kicked or struck by a pumpkin. The result was the same regardless—she would no longer be able to walk. Haine grabbed Shion by the hair and pulled, likely trying repeat the same action with Shion’s head. Shion lacked the strength to resist, but since her heart refused to give in, a beaming smile spread across her face like that of a jack-o’-lantern. But the next moment— “Trick or treat!” (12/47) That shrill voice, characteristic of a prepubescent child, had come from up ahead. Now that Haine was lifting her head, Shion had a direct view of the source of the voice. Standing there was a child dressed like a Japanese-style ghost, with a white kimono and a triangular cloth on their head. Their face was hidden by long hair that reached all the way to the ground, and they held a spiked bat with both hands. A kid. Shion questioned whether a Japanese-style costume was appropriate for a Halloween-themed game. Then, a second later, she realized it was obvious the kid would come. The collapse of the pumpkin wall had generated quite the loud noise, which would draw any nearby children. In fact, it was rather fortunate there had only been one kid in the vicinity. “Trick or treat!” the child repeated. Shion scanned the area. There were no treats to be seen. That was no surprise, for Shion had left behind her entire basket when she fled. The same was true for Haine, whose basket had rolled onto the ground after hitting Shion’s arm. Both baskets had almost certainly been crushed under the pumpkins. Consequently, neither of them had the option to choose “treat.” It appeared that Shion was not the only one to realize this, as Haine was also frozen in place, unable to deal the finishing blow to her sworn enemy. Shit, this is bad— Just as Shion was sensing the urgency of the situation, she felt a strange texture against her left elbow. It had escaped her notice during the fierce struggle, but something was inside her robe. Shion slowly lowered her arm until the object dropped into her left hand. It was a treat—a block of nougat that appeared to be densely packed with calories, to be exact. “……?!” Shion frantically hid the treat in her sleeve to prevent Haine from seeing it. Then she was filled with confusion. Why? How? She had no memory of keeping a secret stash in her robe, and she didn’t remember seeing any nougat in her basket. So where had it come from? Shion could think of only one possible explanation. At the start of their battle, Haine had thrown her basket at Shion. It had hit Shion’s arm, causing the treats inside to scatter and fall onto the ground. One of them must have slipped inside Shion’s robe. Nothing else made sense. What are the chances? she thought. Given the collapse of the wall as well, evidently, Lady Luck was shining down on her today. “Treat! Take this!” Shion shouted, tossing over the nougat. Her stamina had been nearly depleted, but she had enough for one arm swing. The nougat failed to reach the ghost child and instead landed on the ground slightly in front of them, but they took a few steps forward and picked it up. Apparently, they had acknowledged it as a “treat.” “…You bastard! Where did you get that?!” Haine shouted as she slammed Shion against the ground. With a pumpkin—presumably the object she had used to break Shion’s left leg—Haine struck Shion multiple times, trying to kill her before the ghost child could act. Despite being on the receiving end of a beatdown, Shion was in high spirits. She had managed to turn the tables on Haine. The jack-o’-lantern smile she had shown out of a refusal to admit defeat now became one of gloating in victory. The ghost child stuffed the nougat into their pocket. The reason they did not eat it immediately was likely to wait for the other player’s response. “Trick or treat!” the kid said for the third time. Appearing to determine it would be impossible to finish off Shion in the current situation, Haine left Shion’s side and ran over to where the pumpkin wall had collapsed—the location of her treats. However, she was too late. “Trick!” the kid said, before chasing after Haine. (13/47) “Trick!” a voice called out. Haine turned around. The child from earlier was running toward her and swinging around the spiked bat, hair flying in all directions. Even a relatively inexperienced player like Haine could sense intense bloodlust emanating from the kid’s body. There was no doubt about it—players who failed to hand over treats would be murdered in cold blood. Haine felt relief upon seeing how fast the kid was running. The child’s legs were far shorter than Haine’s, and the extra weight of the spiked bat would present a burden. They would not be able to catch up to her on foot. Haine was frustrated at having been unable to finish off Shion, but there was nothing she could do about it at present. She had to shake off the kid and return to finish the job— The very next moment, Haine realized her thinking had been naive. The spiked bat flew through the air and silently lodged itself into the side of her torso. “Gah…?!” Haine was propelled forward. She rolled over once or twice before flopping face down on the ground. With her vision turned sideways, Haine saw the ghost child, along with the spiked bat, which had also rolled onto the ground. No way. A kid isn’t strong enough to throw a bat that large— That was when it occurred to Haine that the kid had been brought in by the organizers. They were no ordinary child. Just as how players underwent the Preservation Treatment, that kid must have also undergone a body modification procedure, one that would certainly be prohibited by the rules for a player. The child picked up the bat and approached Haine. Haine glanced every which way. Ironically, because she had been propelled forward, she had reached the area with the collapsed pumpkin wall—the location where the contents of her basket should have been scattered. Haine crawled around like a cockroach, desperately searching the area for a treat… …and found one. A cream puff. Miraculously, it had maintained its original shape, having avoided being crushed by a pumpkin. “…Treat!” Haine thrust the cream puff at the kid, who was now right beside her. However, the child did not cease their rampage. With a large swing, they slammed the spiked bat down onto Haine’s head. Apparently, once “trick” had been declared, there was no going back. Haine was slammed against the ground. She went rigid, both physically and mentally. She was at the mercy of the ghost kid, who continued their attack. While being beaten and kicked to no end, Haine cursed the injustice of the situation. Why? Why must I die here? Shion’s the one who deserves to die. I’m in the right. She’s the evil one here. How could the wall collapse so conveniently for her? How could this kid show up at the perfect time? Why must everything go her way? It was the same back then. If her agent hadn’t rushed to her aid, we would’ve taken her out right then and there. Why is fate on her side? Even though I’m the one who’s done everything right. Even though I’m the one who’s lived an earnest life. (14/47) It took less than a minute for the ghost child to brutally murder Haine. Afterward, they tossed the nougat from Shion into their mouth and ran off screaming. Shion was amazed the children didn’t get stomachaches from consuming so many spicy treats. Then Shion let out a sigh of relief. She had escaped by the skin of her teeth. If even one thing had failed to go her way, she would most certainly be dead. She had been in crisis mode for several days now, but somehow, she was always being saved at critical moments. She had never given it much thought, but perhaps she had the devil’s own luck. I can’t stay here, Shion thought. There was no way that ghost kid had been the only one to hear the wall collapse. Other children and players might show up at any time, and before they could, Shion had to collect the treats underneath the pumpkins. Dragging her battered body and left leg, the end of which could no longer move, Shion got back to playing the game. She had yet to realize what the damage to her body would come to mean. (15/47) Yuki heard a scream. (16/47) It came from nearby. The instant she heard it, Yuki ceased wandering around and froze in place. Moments later, a group of players appeared from farther down the path. There were three of them, and they were all basketless. Panic lined their faces, and there was blood all over their robes in the form of white fluff. None appeared to have been injured, which meant the bloodstains had come from someone else. Pursuing the three players were two children: a mummy and a zombie. Each was carrying a giant weapon. The mummy had a saber, while the zombie had a ball and chain. Both weapons showed signs of use, as they were covered in white fluff. Those facts painted a picture of the situation: The players had belonged to a group of four or more and were fleeing in panic after one or two of their comrades had been killed. It was too early in the game for anyone to run out of sweets, so either the players had been robbed or they had made a careless mistake. As Yuki analyzed the scene playing out before her, the two kids swung their weapons with great ease, despite how large the objects appeared in their small hands. The saber wielder sliced a player in half, while the one with the ball and chain smashed in another player’s skull. The final player tripped over the body of the latter and fell to the ground. The mummy and zombie inched closer and closer. “…Damn brats!” the final player shouted. The player picked up a pumpkin from the ground nearby and hurled it at the zombie, but their last-ditch effort failed to reverse the situation. The zombie made no attempt to guard, instead letting the pumpkin strike their head, standing unflinching as though they were a stone statue. The kid then moved of their own volition, swinging the chain with a growing intensity before slamming the iron ball into the player. The impact launched the player into the air and over the wall of pumpkins, and seconds later, the sound of a crunch signaled the end of her life. Once their job was done, the mummy and zombie turned to Yuki. “Trick or…” “…Treat!” Yuki grabbed two pieces of candy from her basket. After witnessing such violence, she had no choice but to go with “treat.” Normally, in this kind of game—a game with “executioners” hunting down players—she would have the option to fight back and eradicate all threats to her life, a strategy that had taken center stage in the recent amusement park game. However, the kids’ performance just now proved that such a strategy would be impossible in this game. Their monstrous strength and rock-solid defenses were far from ordinary. Their bodies must have been modified, just like that of Riko from some time ago. Challenging opponents of that nature would be an act of folly. Yuki tossed over the candies. The children picked them up, put them in their mouths, and ran off screaming. As they disappeared from view, Yuki wondered if they were being forced to act like that. She looked into her basket. Her supply of treats was running low. After parting ways with Haine, Yuki had explored the pumpkin patch. Her working theory was that this was a survival game, but she still couldn’t discount the possibility of it being an escape game, and it wasn’t in her nature to just sit on her hands. While wandering the venue, Yuki had repeatedly run into children, which gradually chipped away at her remaining number of treats. Her supply would last her quite a while, but would it be enough for the remainder of the game? As those thoughts passed through her mind, Yuki continued exploring. Soon, she heard another scream. (17/47) Shortly thereafter, several sets of footsteps filled the air. One set came from nearby, while multiple others were slightly farther away. It was impossible to judge based on the sound alone whether they belonged to players or children. Was a treat-less player being pursued by children, or was a chase taking place between players? Whatever the case, a conflict had erupted. Yuki quickly scanned her surroundings. She was in the middle of a straight, unbranching path bounded by walls of pumpkins. There was nowhere to hide. If whoever was making those footsteps came this way, she would have no way of avoiding them. Steeling herself for the worst-case scenario—combat—Yuki proceeded forward. Before long, the source of the first set of footsteps appeared. It was a rather plump player. Her robe fluttered in the air as she frantically dashed down the path. Although her stout build was apparent even underneath the robe, she was running rather fast for someone of her size—implying that her life was in danger. She was tightly gripping a basket with her round hands, but her pointed hat was nowhere to be found. Her hair was tied in double buns, which resembled swollen head bumps seen in comics or cartoons. Upon spotting Yuki, the girl screamed, “Help! I’m being chased! Please help me!” Yuki immediately clocked the girl as a novice, not only based on her body size, but also because she was seeking help from a stranger with whom she had no cooperative relationship. The plump girl got closer and closer. Yuki could very well have taken advantage of the girl’s momentum to throw a cross-counter punch, but since the girl appeared to be nonhostile, Yuki decided against it. The girl came to a stop right in front of Yuki and brought her hands to her knees while huffing and puffing. “Um… I’ll…give you…half my treats,” she said. Yuki stared silently as the girl offered up her basket. The next moment, they were joined by eight players, each with a robe, a pointed hat, and a basket. Unlike the plump girl, not a single one of them was chubby or wide-eyed. Instead, they were all glaring like hunters who had just spotted their prey. After spotting Yuki, the eight players grew visibly surprised. Since they had noisily rushed over, they must not have noticed Yuki’s footsteps. However, their shock lasted only a second before transforming back into sharp glares. “Hey there, miss,” greeted a player with black-and-white hair. “You can guess what we want, right? Trick or treat. Hand over your candy like a good girl, and we’ll spare you any trouble.” Yuki had stepped straight into a hunting ground. Those eight players must have banded together to steal candy from the plump girl. Robbing other players was the simplest strategy to avoid running out of treats, and forming a team would be a practical way to go about it. Although working in a group would necessitate collecting more candy, generally speaking, fighting eight-on-one eight times would be easier than fighting one-on-one once. Even with the current situation being eight-on-two, that principle did not change. Yuki heard a rustle. The plump girl was placing treats into Yuki’s basket—advance payment. Fine, Yuki thought. It wouldn’t hurt to replenish her dwindling supply. “Forget it,” she declared to the eight players. “You’re not getting any from me. If you think you can pull off a trick, I’d like to see you try.” There was no response. The predators quietly approached. Yuki pegged these girls as intermediate players, from how they carried themselves and how they seemed not to recognize her, a forty-five-game veteran. Furthermore, their strategy of forming a team and collecting candy by targeting lone players was also indicative of their level of expertise. They were semi-experienced, such that they were accustomed to the games yet lacked extensive knowledge of them. Although confronting a group of eight represented a daunting prospect, Yuki was confident she could fight them off no problem. Upon reaching that conclusion, she dashed forward. In response, the group did the same. The two sides clashed under the light of the moon… …and the fight ended within ten seconds. Yuki punched the first player’s stomach and landed a low kick into the Achilles’ heel of the second, causing the two to writhe in agony. A third player threw a punch from farther behind, but Yuki dodged the attack, grabbed the player’s arm, tossed her to the ground, and stomped on their back. She then grabbed the head of a fourth player, who attempted a tackle from the left, slamming it against the skull of a fifth player, who was charging from the right. A sixth player sneaked up from behind, but Yuki grabbed her robe and hurled her entire body at a seventh player. Looking around for the eighth player, she saw them running at her with a pumpkin the size of a human head being used as a blunt weapon. Yuki swept the leg of that player just as they stepped off the ground, toppling them over. She caught the pumpkin that flew out of their hands and dropped it, causing a thwack—to echo loudly in the ear of the eighth player as it hit the ground next to them. “…Victory is yours,” the eighth player said. “Good game,” Yuki replied. (18/47) “I’ll take a little from each of you,” Yuki said while placing the other players’ baskets in a line. The eight players nodded silently. Each of them was hurting somewhere, be it their head, arms, legs, stomach, or back. Yuki grabbed a handful of treats from each basket. While taking everything was an option, she opted not to do so. It would be difficult to move around with an overflowing basket hanging from her arm, and if she cornered the market on treats, she would face a greater risk of other players forming teams to target her. And so Yuki figured it would be wise to claim only a moderate amount of spoils. Still, when combined with the treats she had received from the plump girl, it was enough to fill her basket to full capacity. Yuki left the area, continuing down the single path bounded by walls of pumpkins. After getting out of earshot of the players behind her, Yuki let out a sigh of relief. Her body had moved just as she had wanted it. For now at least, it appeared she had no issue fighting in close quarters against multiple opponents. The battle earlier had allowed Yuki to not only replenish her supply of treats and rescue the plump girl but also to confirm her current condition. She had wanted to test exactly how much she could see and the sharpness of her instincts. Since she hadn’t run into any issues in her previous game, Cloudy Beach, she didn’t expect to face any sudden impediments, but confirming as much still came as a relief. Regardless, teams were already starting to form in this game, implying that an understanding of the rules and the sense of urgency born from them had spread among the participants. The game had finally reached a major turning point. If Yuki’s assumptions proved correct, conflicts between players would only continue to escalate. She stretched her shoulders, bracing herself for what the game would have in store. At that moment, she heard footsteps coming toward her from behind. Yuki turned around to see the plump girl from earlier following her. Just as Yuki began wondering why, the girl spoke up in a quiet voice, a significant departure from her frantic tone from before. “Please let me go with you.” “…Huh?” “Oh, no, um…” The plump girl abruptly went quiet, as though searching for the right words. Upon finishing her pondering, she said in an energetic voice, “I mean… “Please take me on as your protégé!” (19/47) As in many other industries, the concept of mentor-protégé relationships also existed in the death-game industry. Yet when compared to those other fields, these connections were far more significant in the world of death games. Since a single failure meant losing one’s life, and the risk of sustaining fatal damage always lingered, learning on one’s own—that is, learning by trial and error through repeated mistakes—was tremendously difficult. Tips and tricks for survival would be passed on from mentors to protégés, and from those protégés to the next generation of players, along with additional teachings added along the way. That cycle had been how players’ techniques had evolved collectively over time. Yuki herself was no stranger to that tradition. She had inherited perhaps the most valuable techniques in the entire industry from Hakushi, a legendary ninety-five-game veteran. Yuki had seen how the players around her tended to start taking on protégés after clearing thirty games. She herself had long anticipated the possibility that the time would come for her to pass down what she had received from her predecessors. As such, the proposition was not an outrageous one. Not by any means. (20/47) “My name is Tamamo,” the girl said, abruptly introducing herself. Yuki thought the name—which contained the Japanese word for ball—was a perfect match for her appearance, but she decided to keep that to herself. “Um… What did you just say?” Yuki asked. “Please take me on as your protégé,” Tamamo repeated clearly. Yuki had, in fact, not misheard. “Where is this coming from…?” Yuki asked. While hemming and hawing, Tamamo replied, “My agent told me to find a mentor if I want to survive a long time. And well, I want to be like you…” It was common knowledge in the industry that a player’s ability to find a mentor early on greatly influenced their lifespan. Evidently, some agents explicitly urged their players to do so. Yuki tried picturing the girl’s frame of mind. While finding herself on the brink of death being chased by malicious players, she suddenly runs into a phantom-like player. After frantically requesting help, she watches that player wipe the floor with her pursuers in less than ten seconds flat before casually leaving the scene— Looking back, it had been quite a dramatic turn of events, one that painted Yuki almost like a hero in a Western. Yuki had viewed the situation as simply a transaction involving treats, but it wouldn’t be strange if Tamamo now regarded her as a knight shining armor—nor would it be strange for the girl to want to become her protégé. “No.” Yuki shook her head. “I’ve decided to not take protégés. Sorry.” Although Yuki believed she would have to pass down her techniques to someone one day, she was not yet mentally prepared to take on such a responsibility. She hoped to politely turn the girl down, but… “Please, I beg of you,” Tamamo persisted. “Out of curiosity, do you know who I am?” “……? No. We’ve never met before… Right?” Apparently, the girl had made the request without knowing Yuki was a forty-five-game veteran and one of the few survivors of Candle Woods. While Yuki was somewhat impressed with the girl’s discerning eye… “No,” she repeated. “Especially not a girl with hair in two bunches. Brings back bad memories.” “Okay, I’ll let my hair down…” Tamamo undid the buns on her head. “Wait, wait, wait, that’s not the problem here.” “Then what can I do to make you say yes?” She’s surprisingly stubborn, Yuki thought. Looking back, Yuki realized Tamamo had managed to run away from her pursuers despite her disadvantage in body size, which suggested she was resilient when the going got tough. “Fine,” Yuki relented. “If you want it that badly, I’ll take you under my wing.” “…Thank you very much!” Tamamo gave a deep bow. “Let’s go ahead and get started with your training.” Yuki pointed in a random direction. “For now, head that way.” Tamamo did as instructed, without showing any hint of mistrust. The next moment, Yuki kicked the back of the girl’s knees—a foot sweep. Since Tamamo was already unsteady due to her body shape, the added force to her knees caused her to completely topple over. She fell onto her bottom and rolled on the ground like a snowball. Yuki took advantage of that opportunity to dash off at full speed. “Lesson one!” Yuki shouted. “Improve your physique! Sorry, but that body won’t keep you alive for long! Keep running around until you slim down; once you’re able to catch up to me, you pass! Then we’ll move on to lesson two!” Yuki was spouting utter nonsense. Humans could not slim down that fast just by running around. The task would be impossible to achieve by the end of the game. In other words, Yuki had essentially said good-bye. “Ah, wait!” Tamamo cried out. There was despair in her voice, as if she had realized Yuki’s trickery. However, Yuki would not stop to wait for even a second. She took off as fast as she could, away from the girl. “At least tell me your name! Please!” Yuki figured there would be no issue with telling her. “It’s Yuki!” she replied. “Written with the characters for ghostly and demon! See you again, maybe!” “I’m excited to work with you!” Tamamo’s voice came flying through the air from far away, barely reaching Yuki. —In time, Yuki would come to gravely regret that entire conversation. (21/47) Shion threw punches at a player’s face. (22/47) Shion had gotten on top of that player and was mercilessly pummeling her with her fists. Since she had already dealt more than enough damage, her opponent was virtually unable to mount a resistance; all that was left was to wait for that “virtually” to become a “completely.” Shion kept throwing punch after punch, half for the purpose of knocking out her opponent, and half for the purpose of releasing her pent-up anger. Soon enough, the girl stopped moving. Shion didn’t care if she had fallen unconscious or died. She lowered her fists and left the area while dragging her left leg, which Haine had injured. As she made her exit, she stole the basket lying nearby on the ground, which belonged to the player she had just beaten up. The relief of having escaped a crisis washed over Shion as she looked inside the basket and found it had a decent number of treats. After fighting off Haine, Shion had searched around the collapsed pumpkin wall, but to little surprise, most of the treats she found had been crushed. She thought they would be okay as long as the wrapping had not come undone, but when she had tried handing them to the kids, they told her no with shrill voices. They would only accept treats in their original, unbroken forms. Shion had managed to recover a few that were barely intact, but that meager amount brought her little comfort. Her supply was dangerously low. She smashed open a number of pumpkins and checked inside them and also dug around the area where the wall had collapsed, but she came up empty-handed. There seemed to be no treats hidden in the venue, beyond the ones supplied to players at the start of the game. This had led her to conclude there was only one way to restock—stealing from others. And that was one of Shion’s greatest skills. Compared to fleeing from a vigilante group armed with guns and fighting a player unleashed by revenge, robbing other players was like taking candy from a baby. Using her battered body to her advantage, she had pretended to be a pitiable player whose treats had been stolen, then approached another player while asking if they could share their supply. Although the player did not share any, Shion succeeded in getting close enough to leap at them and beat them unconscious before stealing their treats. That kind of petty crime was child’s play for someone who had taken out over a hundred players up to now. However, she erred just now by taking too long to silence the player. The girl had let out a scream, which meant any children and players who heard it would come rushing over shortly. Shion was fleeing as fast as she could, dragging her left leg behind her, scraping her robe across the ground, but alas, her efforts ended in vain. She heard multiple sets of footsteps that were not her own. Shion’s injured leg kept her from moving very quickly, so escape would now be impossible. She had no choice but to face down the group of approaching individuals. It was a group of four players, looking for all the world a gang of thugs. “Oh? Someone’s loaded,” one of them said with an eye on Shion. That player had so many piercings on her face that she could very well have set a new Guinness World Record. “Hand over that basket,” that player said, sticking out her hand. “Obey, and we’ll let you off easy.” “Try to take it from me,” Shion spat in response. She beckoned the players forward. Interpreting Shion’s reaction as a show of bravado, the group approached without showing any hesitation. The player with piercings tried to grab her by the chest… …but the entire fight lasted less than ten seconds. Shion struck the girl in the chin and pushed her over while she was reeling from the attack. Hoping to avoid the numerous piercings, Shion repeatedly punched the player’s stomach instead of her face. A second player approached to assist her teammate, but since she had no piercings, Shion fended her off with an unwavering punch to the face. A third player grabbed Shion’s shoulders from behind, and although Shion winced momentarily from the pain of her bullet wound, she forced that player away with a reverse headbutt. The fourth player came charging with a pumpkin, but Shion swiped it away and slammed it into that player’s head. The fourth player fell onto the ground. Shion lifted up the pumpkin to continue her assault. As she raised her arms, her sleeves rolled down, revealing her tattoos. The player, evidently aware of the rumors, suddenly turned pale. “Wait, don’t tell me—” “If only you’d realized it sooner.” Shion swung down the pumpkin. The player’s dying scream cut through the air. (23/47) After killing all four players, Shion stole their treats. It had been a walk in the park. Haine had given Shion trouble because she’d gotten the jump on her, but whenever Shion fought calmly, this was the inevitable result. Shion would never have let that team of four get the better of her. Although she had managed to refill her supply of treats, there had been another scream. Shion spurred on her aching body to make a hasty retreat. But yet again, more footsteps filled the air, and yet again, Shion encountered another group of players. This time, there were five of them. Upon spotting Shion, they demonstrated a clear eagerness to fight—a natural reaction, as they were staring down a single, lonesome player. Shion did not look strong by any means, and she had taken so much damage that she couldn’t even stand. Targeting weakened prey was good practice in a hunt. It was infuriating, but Shion had no choice but to accept her reality. I’ll make you regret this, Shion thought. She adopted a fighting pose, but then— Shion thought back to the mechanics of the game. (24/47) While walking around the pumpkin patch, Yuki looked up. The color of the sky had yet to change. (25/47) In her previous game, Cloudy Beach, her group had used the motion of the stars to track time, but that was only possible because of Airi. Yuki did not possess such a skill. All she could gather was that the sky was pitch-dark and it would be a while before dawn broke. She had no idea how much longer the game would last. Halloween Night—a game themed around All Hallows’ Eve. From the name of the game and the design of the venue, Yuki had assumed it would be a survival game like Cloudy Beach. Even after the game had reached a turning point, she still believed in her theory, though she continued to explore the venue just in case. According to her hypothesis, players did not need to escape from the pumpkin patch or wipe out the children; they simply had to stick it out until morning. Clearing the game would be as simple as making it through the night by handing out treats to children until players could see the light of day. Since the game was dubbed Halloween Night, it would end once the night was over—an extremely simple setup. The average survival rate of death games hovered at around 70 percent. Following that statistic, it would make sense for players to have been supplied with at least 70 percent of the number of treats needed to placate the children. In fact, it would most likely be closer to 80 or 90 percent, or perhaps even over 100 percent of that amount. It was possible there were enough treats in the game for all players to survive. However, Yuki believed the actual survival rate would be far, far lower. After all, the game had a truly fiendish mechanic—one far more fiendish than it appeared—which was born out of the uncertainty surrounding the rules. Just like in Cloudy Beach, players in this game were provided very little information. The size of the venue, the number of players and children, and the necessary number of treats were all unclear. Yuki’s theory about it being a survival game was also unconfirmed, and even assuming it was true, it was impossible to accurately gauge when dawn would break, and there was no guarantee the game would end after a single night. Amid these circumstances, only one rule was clear: The children would play a trick on any player who had no treats. That rule shone brightly like a streetlight in the dead of night. The only survival strategy players could rely on was securing as many treats as possible. And in order to do so… Players had not been ordered to steal from each other, but the idea would naturally spring to mind. Yuki saw it as a rather cunning method of psychological manipulation. What player wouldn’t want to replenish their supply after seeing their basket grow emptier and emptier from the children’s repeated requests for treats? At least, Yuki couldn’t dismiss the urgency. Thanks to Tamamo, Yuki had fortunately not needed to attack anyone, but if she had found herself with her back against the wall, she would have considered doing so. The players’ desire to secure an ample supply of treats would translate to many deaths. That was the mechanism behind the game. “…I wonder if Haine’s okay…,” Yuki muttered. Haine had been pursuing the tattooed player—Shion, if memory served. Yuki was worried over whether Haine had succeeded in exacting revenge, yes, but she was also worried about the aftermath. It would be difficult to avoid injury in a battle against the player who had been behind the large-scale massacre in Garbage Prison. And if Haine came out of the battle injured, even with just a little bruise on her face, her chances of survival would plummet drastically. Sustaining even a tiny injury in the early stages of this game would place one at a clear disadvantage. As all players had likely figured out by this point, the only way to replenish one’s supply of treats would be to steal from others. To maximize success, it was crucial to target those who appeared weak. As such, injured players were ripe for the picking—which thereby made them susceptible to getting hurt even more. It constituted a vicious cycle. An injured player would be targeted for their injuries, which would cause them to sustain more injuries, which would turn them into an even greater target. That cycle would repeat itself and continue wearing them down. Consequently, one had to avoid taking damage at all costs. Those who found themselves in a weak position would only have salt rubbed in their wounds. Even the slightest injury would quickly multiply all over a player’s body like reproducing mold. (26/47) The injuries quickly multiplied across Shion’s body. (27/47) “…Die!” From a seated position, Shion kicked a player who had collapsed onto the ground. Although she had cursed at them to die, her victim was already dead, having left this mortal coil after attempting an attack on Shion and being met with a counterattack. There were two similar corpses lying nearby on the ground. They had been a team of three. Shion placed her hand on her burning forehead. One member of the dead trio—the girl whom Shion had just kicked—had been defiant to the end, cutting Shion’s flesh. The girl had scratched all over her with fingernails that had been sharpened into blades. Touching the wound caused feelings of resentment to bubble back up, and Shion kicked the corpse once more. She used her right leg since her left was broken, but the moment she landed the kick, she felt a disturbing sensation. Apparently, she had hurt her other leg in the battle. Shion rested her body against a wall of pumpkins. Her breathing was erratic, and her heart pounded rapidly. The battles had continued without a break. Somehow, she had managed to protect her stock of treats, but she had no choice but to acknowledge her extreme fatigue. While she had naturally taken a great deal of physical damage, her stamina and willpower had also been drained. Worse still, she had used the last of her energy to defeat that team of three. If Shion ran into another player, she would likely fail to escape with her life. “Dammit,” Shion said. Under normal circumstances, this game would have been a walk in the park—because of her tattoos. Tales of Garbage Prison and the tattooed player had spread throughout the entire industry. As such, the majority of players would not dare lay a hand on her if they realized her identity. Shion would essentially achieve the central mission of the game—protecting her supply of treats—just by showing off her tattoos. There was no way she would lose with that advantage—under normal circumstances. Haine’s interference had erased her advantage. By the time Shion had realized the game could be encapsulated by phrases like “adding insult to injury” or “when it rains, it pours,” it was already too late. She had become a prime target after sustaining a severe injury in her fight against Haine. And so it went that few players wound up retreating after seeing her tattoos. Around half of them appeared cognizant of Shion’s identity, but naturally, none of them perceived her as a threat once they saw her sorry state. Thus, she was forced to battle the vast majority of players she encountered. At first, a few had run away after perceiving the difference in their abilities, but later on in the game, when the overall supply of candy was dwindling, not a single player had retreated, determined to settle things with their fists. Once the game had reached that point, Shion could not escape fights unscathed. She suffered further injuries, became targeted again as a result, and then suffered even more injuries. As the cycle continued, the wounds multiplied all over her body. If only that bitch hadn’t been here, Shion thought. Haine—Kirihara’s servant who had joined the game in pursuit of Shion. How had she learned about Halloween Night? There should have been no way for her to find out Shion had joined, too. Shion had assumed fate was smiling upon her when she’d managed to escape the girl, but now she no longer felt that way. She couldn’t take it. How could there be a player who was solely motivated to come after her, showing a complete disregard for the game? How could Shion have been put into as dire straits as these? The word karma came to mind. What, you forgetting who you are? A girl attacking another player for reasons completely unrelated to the games—doesn’t that also apply to you? How many people have you killed up till now? Gotta be at least a hundred. So how is it fair for you to be complaining someone fought back? “Shut it,” Shion retorted at the voice in her head. I had no way out. There wasn’t anything else I could do. You know that better than anyone. As Shion argued with herself, her displeasure amplified. When she once again heard footsteps echoing from a distance, her displeasure reached a peak. Don’t come this way, Shion prayed. But in this game, players who offered prayers always, without exception, shared the same fate. A group of eight girls appeared in front of Shion. They were all bruised, likely the result of an earlier fight. However, they had apparently failed to win, as their baskets were close to empty. Their faces showed a considerable amount of panic. To them, Shion no doubt looked like a sitting duck. None of the players stood down even after seeing the three corpses lying next to Shion—evidence of her combat prowess. They silently approached, without demanding she hand over her basket or saying “trick or treat.” “You itchin’ for a fight?” Shion sharpened her glare. “Then you best be prepared.” Shion rolled up her sleeves, revealing her arm tattoos. She hoped the players would retreat, but instead… “What’s that supposed to mean?” one of the players asked, completely indifferent. “You eager to show off your tattoos?” They were unaware of Shion’s identity. The ignorant fools. (28/47) Everyone has a first time for everything. The first time Shion committed murder, it was against her parents. She never explained the reason to anyone, and she didn’t have to, either. They were people who had driven her to want to kill them—that was all that needed to be said. If she had to explain further, she would describe her parents as people who wouldn’t hesitate to abuse the power of words, which, according to one theory, were said to be mightier than the sword. And violence was the only method at her disposal to silence people who could trump her in an argument by commanding a vocabulary far eclipsing her own. The second Shion killed her parents, she was overcome by a sense of freedom and achievement. I did it. I succeeded. I beat the people who gave birth to me. Now I can finally be free— An instant later, she realized that feeling was but a fleeting illusion. Since then, the desire to kill others had taken root in Shion’s heart. She longed to relive the refreshing feeling of her soul being purified down to its core, the sensation of realness she had felt on that day. She found it impossible to distract herself from that thought. With each passing day, her desire to kill grew stronger and stronger, until it finally began torturing Shion’s mind around the clock. Shion was cursed. That was why she became a player. A world where she came face-to-face with death. A world where no one could throw around platitudes like “treasure your life.” She believed it was the perfect place for someone like her. In that world, Shion could run wild to her heart’s content, without fearing what others might think. However, that belief, too, was nothing but an illusion. That was only natural. Whether you were on the surface or under it, any place where people gathered was a form of society, and the ultimate vice of any society was stripping others of their freedom. Even in this world, people like Shion were unwanted. She would never find a place where she would be welcome. She couldn’t live in this world without hiding her true self. A shadow even in a realm of shadows—that was the position she had ended up in. And so, while continuing on as a player, she secretly fulfilled her cravings in the darkness, killing others without being caught. That was when Kyara reached out a helping hand. (29/47) Shion focused on fighting a defensive battle against the team of eight players. Although her opponents were far below her caliber, that was her only strategy, given her condition and the number of her opponents. The players acted awfully cautious, perhaps due to already having tasted defeat once. Even though Shion was injured, none of them risked approaching her, instead resorting to hurling pumpkins from afar. Shion tried defending herself with her robe and counterattacking by tossing pumpkins back, but she was unable to reverse the tide of battle. At last, the decisive moment arrived, and a pumpkin hit Shion squarely in the back. The blow to her spine caused her body to freeze up. (30/47) Kyara—the player who would later enter the limelight due to the events of Candle Woods. When Shion had met her, however, she was no more than an average player. Like Shion, she was a homicidal maniac who acted in secrecy. The two of them had been cut from the same cloth, and Kyara was quite possibly the only person in the world who would accept Shion for who she was. In addition to Shion, Kyara had taken in two other teenage girls. One was a player by the name of Moegi, who apparently idolized Kyara. The other was a player called Hizumi, who was a complete enigma. Shion lived with Kyara and the two of them for quite some time. In the house, Shion spoke with Moegi the most. Since the two were close in age and had both escaped from their parents, they got along well. Moegi would always talk about how she had lost everything due to being a good girl and acting exactly how her parents wanted, and how she was going to change herself by learning how to assert her own will under the guidance of Kyara. Shion figured Moegi was the kind of person to fall for shady self-improvement programs. Although she felt bad about it, she couldn’t see Moegi lasting very long. On the other hand, Shion rarely spoke with Hizumi, for the girl wasn’t someone you could hold a conversation with. Hizumi had quite a difficult personality; one moment, she would act all spacey, like an android who had been born from culture fluid the previous day, and the next moment, she would flip a switch and blow her lid. Shion was curious as to how much would be enough to make the girl to fly into a rage, so she would test Hizumi’s limits through all kinds of pranks, such as filling the bathtub with ice-cold water or setting up a flopping fish toy in the girl’s bed. The scene of Shion running away from a knife-wielding Hizumi became a regular sight in the house. Practically half of Shion’s combat skills had developed from her bouts with Hizumi. In that sense, perhaps they could be said to have engaged in close communication. Lastly, Shion also learned many different things from Kyara. Some lessons were useful, such as trusty methods of hiding a body and efficient ways of destroying a human corpse that took advantage of the Preservation Treatment. Other pieces of wisdom were more dubious, such as how to determine a person’s time of death from the growth of maggots on their corpse, and the benefits of skinning a victim after killing them. Shion would also sometimes ask Kyara for advice on topics that would concern a teenage girl, such as the meaning of life and how she should live. She had no intention of becoming Kyara’s protégé, but in the sense that Shion had learned much from her, Kyara could be called Shion’s mentor. The woman’s guidance was a major reason Shion had managed to survive through twenty-nine games. Shion had found things fun back then. For the first time in her life, her days had been filled with happiness. However, those relationships were doomed to be cut short. That was of no surprise—you could hardly build a stable community around a homicidal maniac. No matter how much the girls tried to stay hidden, the world would eventually seek to purge them. Moegi and Kyara were the first to die. Kyara had apparently been unable to suppress her urges and went berserk in Candle Woods, a game with over three hundred players. Shion had figured Moegi would be a goner, but Kyara’s demise was difficult to swallow, for the woman was someone who seemed invincible even upon death. To this day, Shion would sometimes wonder if Kyara was still alive somewhere out there, but even if she was, with Shion unaware of her whereabouts, the woman was as good as dead. With their leader, Kyara, gone, the remaining girls’ shared living situation also came to an end. Shion would occasionally reach out to Hizumi even after that, but she had lost contact with the girl a short time ago. According to Shion’s agent, the girl had died in a game that had taken place around the same time as Garbage Prison. And so Shion was left all alone. She felt like a wave too massive for her to handle was crushing her. She imagined this was something that had happened repeatedly throughout history. Just as how controversial customs like foot-binding and suttee had been banned, just as how spiritualism and corporal punishment were being eliminated for their barbaric images, just as how smoking and smokers were being driven to a corner of society, Shion felt that she, too, would soon be erased. This world is improving, day by day. People like me will disappear from the earth. The death of the others, and my own death, are nothing more than a small part of that cycle of renewal. Somewhere, deep down, Shion had known this was her fate even before Garbage Prison. Although she had continued making efforts to survive, she had half given up on life. Anything that was not welcome by the majority would disappear from the earth—that was an ironclad law that could not be defied. Isn’t that obvious? You’re realizing that way too late, dumbass. (31/47) Fortunately, Shion’s attackers spared her life. Unlike her, the group of players showed no interest in killing, nor were they driven by revenge like Haine. They simply hurt Shion so badly that she couldn’t resist anymore and stole all her treats. Not only did they take the ones in Shion’s basket, they also searched her entire body and swiped the ones she had been hiding in her robe as a safety net. The eight players walked away, leaving Shion lying helplessly on the ground. She could no longer move. Every inch of her body cried out in pain, and it required all her energy just to continue existing. All Shion could do was open her eyes and stare at the ground nearby. Upon doing so, Shion had a bizarre reunion. Next to her on the ground was a broken gingerbread cookie. The way it was broken was familiar—it was the cookie she had spat out immediately after the start of the game. That meant she was back at her starting position. She had circled back without realizing. Shion recalled having buried the cookie in the dirt, but now it was sticking out aboveground. It must have gotten dug up during her fight against the team of eight. The grinning face of the human-shaped gingerbread cookie stared straight at Shion. “What’re you looking at?” Shion grumbled. Shion scowled at the cookie, but it continued to smile, remaining completely still. While applauding it for its toughness, Shion used the last reserves of her strength to pick up the cookie. She was not thinking of giving it to a kid. After all, she had already confirmed the children would not accept treats that had come free from their wrapping, even if the shape was still intact. She was not planning to give it to anyone—she had picked it up to use on herself. Shion ate the cookie without wiping away the dirt. The same pungent flavor she had tasted several hours prior spread throughout her mouth. This time, however, she did not spit out the cookie. She gnawed at it several times before swallowing it. Almost immediately, her entire body was overrun by shock, as she had consumed something that was by no means edible. Her pulse increased, her body temperature rose, and her mind cleared. Her arms and legs regained some vitality. The gingerbread cookie had granted strength to Shion—the pure strength of throwing caution to the wind when staring death in the face. It was a pick-me-up. Shion sat up. She dragged her barely mobile body and began making her way to the destination she had in mind. She didn’t mind dying—but before she met her end, she was going to give that servant’s face a beating. (32/47) Yuki noticed the sky was brighter. (33/47) Just a little longer, she thought. The end of night would signal the end of the game. However, the precise timing remained unclear—would it be the exact moment of sunrise or would she have to wait for the sun to be fully visible? Either way, Yuki was glad to have noticed a change that confirmed the passage of time. Yuki looked inside her basket. She had a small number of treats remaining. Considering the pace at which her supply was depleting, she would likely have enough to last the rest of the game. There was no need to replenish her stock. All she had to do was move around and avoid losing any more treats by evading the children and other players as much as possible. Yuki had continued to explore the pumpkin patch on the off chance the game was actually an escape game, but she found no exit. The mountains of pumpkins must have been set up around the perimeter of the venue to prevent players from escaping. And so, upon sensing no need to explore any farther, Yuki stationed herself in one particular spot, breathing quietly to avoid being detected by the children and other players. However, the sound of footsteps heading her way forced her to act. Moving with hushed steps, Yuki covered her left eye and looked in front of her with only her right. She had been occasionally doing that to monitor changes in her vision. The scene reflected in her eye was no better or worse. (34/47) Before the start of Halloween Night, on the day Yuki visited Kirihara’s mansion— After finishing her business at the house and returning to her apartment, Yuki was greeted by her agent. Following her agent’s instructions, she was brought to a hospital—one that was presumably tied to the organizers—to undergo a medical exam. Alas, the results she soon received could not be described as joyous. “—It is a relief your condition does not require immediate attention,” her agent had said on the ride back from the hospital. “…Ideally, it wouldn’t ever require any attention,” Yuki jested in a tone that ran contrary to her true feelings. She was gradually losing her vision in her right eye, or so the exam results indicated. In Candle Woods, Kyara had severely damaged Yuki’s right eye. Her vision had recovered without issue and had held up for a year, so Yuki thought everything was fine—but in reality, her eye was a ticking time bomb. As her agent had said, her condition required no immediate attention, but her vision loss was progressing steadily. At the hospital, she had been told to prepare for the worst-case scenario of complete blindness in her right eye. She had yet to notice any visual changes. She had heard somewhere that the human brain would automatically fill in gaps in a person’s vision, such that they wouldn’t notice any glaring changes even if they became blind or impaired in one eye—yet the fact remained that the vision loss was real. Yuki trusted the medical team of the organizers and her agent. What they said about her condition was likely true. Furthermore, while Yuki had not noticed any visual changes, the diagnosis had not completely come out of left field. She had shown several instances of carelessness as of late—making a mess in the craftsman’s workshop, and scattering around her coins, for example. If she were to continue as a player, such an occurrence would eventually happen in the middle of a game. If her symptoms progressed, her problems would only worsen. This would not be her first time losing a body part. For example, the appendages from her middle finger to her pinkie on her left hand were prosthetics. There were also countless times where she had gotten injured during games, losing her limbs, hair, scalp, and plenty more. Shedding body parts was by no means a novel experience to her. Despite that, she had been shocked to learn of her current condition. Losing her vision would be severely detrimental. While mending part of an eye might be possible, replacing an entire eyeball was impossible under the limitations of modern medicine. Not even the craftsman would be able to help with his prosthetics. Once Yuki’s vision failed, there would be no going back. The gravity of losing sight in one eye was immediately apparent. If it came to that, Yuki would not be long for this world. She hoped her eyesight would hold out for a little longer. She had only cleared forty-five games, so she was still short of the midpoint of reaching her goal of ninety-nine— “…Maybe I should’ve taken her as a protégé,” Yuki muttered while walking around the pumpkin patch. The image of the plump girl, Tamamo, entered her mind. Yuki had refused the girl’s request to be her protégé, since she hadn’t been mentally prepared. Perhaps, however, she needed to take the girl under her wing. It was possible the time Yuki could remain a player was gradually nearing its end. Just as her own mentor had done, it was possible that Yuki, too, would need to pass down her teachings to someone else. “…………” The sight in front of Yuki turned dark. (35/47) “—Have you ever felt like you wanted to kill someone, anyone?” Yuki had asked her mentor once upon a time. She couldn’t remember exactly when or under what circumstances the conversation had taken place. Perhaps they had run into each other in a game, or perhaps she was being trained outside of the games. Either way, Yuki was clearly in a bad mood; otherwise, she would never have brought up such a topic with Hakushi. “‘I can’t stand people who leave me behind to lead live happy lives.’ ‘I can’t forgive society for continuing on like nothing’s wrong, while I’m left to suffer.’ ‘I want to make everything fall into oblivion…’ Have you ever felt that way?” They had talked about this sometime before Candle Woods—before Yuki had begun her career as a player in earnest. During this time, she wasn’t living a proper life by any means, yet she wasn’t resigning herself to death either, making her existence that of a wandering phantom. Yuki remembered feeling as though her body were filled with a grudge that had nowhere to go. The mentor in her memory, Hakushi, replied, “I have.” “…Really?” Yuki found the response somewhat unexpected. She had pictured Hakushi as someone who was beyond those thoughts. “That’s just how young people are,” her mentor explained. “You say that like you’re not young anymore. Master, just how old are you?” “Who knows?” Hakushi deflected the question. “At the very least, I no longer experience the feelings that are in your heart right now.” “Why?” “Because there’s something I have to do.” What her mentor had to do. In other words, score an unprecedented ninety-nine consecutive victories in gruesome death games. “People stabilize when they find something they can direct their energy toward.” “…Is that how it is?” “Can’t say for sure if that applies to all of humanity, but that’s how it was for me.” It would be a while longer before Yuki discovered this principle would also apply to her. The goal of clearing ninety-nine games she had inherited from her mentor kept her grounded in the world of the living. Although it was not an upstanding way of life, the goal made her satisfied with herself. But what would happen to her if she came to lose her objective as well? (36/47) Yuki was taken aback when she realized the path before her led nowhere. She had reached a dead end. A section of a pumpkin wall had collapsed, blocking the path. Nearby, a player was collapsed on the ground. She was completely motionless, with white fluff jutting out from all over her body. Even from several dozen feet away, Yuki could tell from a glance the girl was dead. The player’s injuries suggested she had been killed by the children. She must have gotten caught in the dead end while trying to escape. As Yuki tried picturing the situation, she approached the corpse. Then her eyes grew even wider. It was Haine. Although the girl’s face was mangled, Yuki could tell her identity from her hairstyle and physique. She was no longer among the living. Had she been taken out by the tattooed player? Had she managed to exact revenge but lacked enough treats to survive the game? Or had she run out of treats and gotten killed before even getting the chance to locate the target of her vengeance? Hoping it was the second case, Yuki looked away from the corpse. She turned her attention to the dead end. Since the blockade had been formed from the collapse of a wall, the pumpkins in her way were neither stacked too high nor completely sealing the path. Conceivably, she could squeeze through by contorting her body like when walking through a crowd of people. However, that would be rather annoying to try, and she might risk causing an even greater collapse if she bumped into the wrong spot. Deciding it wasn’t worth the risk, Yuki turned on her heel. And there… (37/47) Covered in wounds, Shion continued making her way to Haine. (38/47) She remembered the path. Although she had been too focused on running away to map out the venue once the other players had started coming after her treats, the route from her starting position to where she had encountered Haine was clear in her mind. With this being her thirtieth game, that was a given. Along the way, she ran into only one person—an overweight player. Shion and the other player immediately went their separate ways, without entering into a fight or exchanging a single word. Shion had thought it would be physically impossible to steal treats from the girl, and the girl seemed to take no interest in someone without treats. After passing her by, Shion wondered why someone like her was participating. Death games were a spectacle for entertainment, and players all generally had pretty faces. Though, there had been eras in the past when being full-figured was the height of beauty, and it was possible some audience members preferred such players. Besides, Shion herself had a rather plain face, so the takeaway was that individual audience preferences were extremely varied and wide-ranging. Regardless, Shion was attacked by neither player nor child on her way to the spot where she had killed Haine. Shion had been cursed by her own fate until a little while ago, but it seemed her luck had taken an abrupt turn for the positive. It had been all over the place lately. One moment, fortune would be kind to her, only to immediately turn the tables on her. What was that all about? What did fate have in store for her? Thinking that, Shion reached the spot where the wall of pumpkins had collapsed. —And there… Two players came face-to-face. (39/47) It’s her…, Shion thought. A phantom-like player. Shion knew her name. Although they had never met in person, she had heard the stories. Yuki: the player who had survived Candle Woods and taken down Shion’s mentor. Shion had always wanted a chance to talk to her. But running into her here, after she had been driven deep into a corner? Shion couldn’t tell if that was good or bad luck at work. Shoot, Yuki thought. She had sensed the girl’s presence but didn’t imagine she had gotten so close. The girl was already there when Yuki turned around. A player with wounds all over her body. Her left leg was broken. She must have crawled here on all fours. The parts of her skin that were visible—her face and limbs—were covered with countless bruises. In fact, there were fewer parts of her body that were not discolored than were. Yuki could imagine the areas beneath the girl’s robe were also in miserable shape. This player’s flame of life was on the verge of flickering out. That had to be why Yuki had misestimated her presence. And yet—there was a vitality in the girl’s expression that did not match the damage on her body. This was Yuki’s first time meeting the bruised player, but the girl reminded her of a sight she had seen just once before—the face of a player named Moegi in Candle Woods. Moegi’s earnest expression had stabbed deep into Yuki’s heart back then. People could only make that sort of face if they committed to something entirely, in body and soul. At this point, Yuki was still unaware of the significance of their encounter. (40/47) “…Are you Yuki?” Yuki heard her name leave the other player’s lips. While keeping a close eye on the girl, Yuki replied, “Yeah. You know about me?” “Know you? Of course I do. You’re like the enemy of my parent…” The girl’s lips twisted unnaturally, in a way that would inspire unease in anyone who saw them. “I don’t think we’ve met. Who are you?” Yuki asked. The girl did not respond. Instead, she raised her arms like a surgeon entering an operating room. The sleeves of her robe drooped, exposing her skin down to her elbows. Both arms were covered with tattoos resembling burn marks. “This answer your question?” the girl replied. That was all she had to do. “…You’re…that tattooed player… Shion?” “So you’ve heard of me.” No wonder the girl had such a bizarre aura. This is bad, Yuki thought. She had been so close to reaching the end of the game without encountering the tattooed player. “Mind stepping aside?” Shion asked. “I came here to beat up that jerk.” Yuki traced Shion’s gaze to Haine’s corpse. “Is this your doing?” Yuki asked. “Yeah,” Shion casually replied. “She said she came to take revenge on me, so I fought back.” Shion came even closer. Yuki stood perfectly still. As if interpreting that to mean Yuki would not budge, Shion stopped a short distance away. Then Shion asked, “Hey, you. What do you think of that?” “Of what?” “You know… The idea that revenge doesn’t solve anything. What’s your take?” Yuki took a few seconds to think before answering. “Well, I guess it’s true. But revenge is something really personal. If someone wants to go through with it at all costs, there’s no stopping them.” Yuki thought her answer was perfectly ordinary, but Shion seemed surprised by it. “You’re an odd one,” the other girl said. “Here’s what I think: People who are obsessed with revenge have their heads in the clouds. Every last one of them goes on and on about what will happen after getting revenge. About how they feel empty and how exacting vengeance will make them feel better… They don’t even consider the important part: how to actually take revenge. They just swing around a blade and shout, ‘I’ll kill you!’ Talk about ridiculous. Anyone evil enough to make someone want to exact revenge on them would fight back when staring death in the face. And if their resistance pays off, then it’s bad news for the person seeking vengeance. Why don’t those people ever stop to think about that possibility?” Shion continued, “Just goes to show how incapable they really are. ‘I can’t let this stand.’ ‘I have to make them pay.’ Those two little thoughts make them lose their damn minds. Meanwhile, people like me spend all day coming up with ways of attacking, hurting, and killing. You’ve got to be gullible as hell to think emotions are enough to beat me. People who aren’t grounded in reality deserve to die. They’ve got it coming. It’s the reasonable thing… Hey, do you think what I’m saying makes no sense?” “…I do,” Yuki replied. “At least, it’s easier for me to understand people who make sloppy attempts at revenge.” Shion chuckled. “I don’t want to hear that from you. You’re trying to clear ninety-nine games, right?” “Yeah.” “Why would you do that?” “Well, it’s hard to explain…” With her hand on her cheek, Yuki chose her words carefully. “It’s the path I decided to walk down a long time ago. And because of that decision, I have to keep moving forward.” Yuki intentionally kept quiet about her current wavering feelings. “Do you hear yourself?” Shion asked. “That’s a roundabout road to suicide.” “Maybe.” “I’d quit if I were you.” Shion’s words contained a hint of advice. “Don’t cling to a ridiculous goal like that. Otherwise, you’ll crash and burn before long—just like me.” Shion stretched out her arms, as if to make a display of herself. “…………” Upon seeing the girl’s body, Yuki understood everything. The tattooed player, Shion. Yuki did not know exactly what had driven the girl to carry out a massacre, how she had been pushed to the brink of death, or why she had offered that advice to Yuki. But the girl’s face told most of the story. Shion had lived life. Yuki could understand that the girl had nursed a certain feeling in her heart, expressed it loud and clear, and accepted the consequences that came from it. A vision came to Yuki, as if she was staring at a mirror. The mirror was reflecting the future. If she continued playing in games, she would end up like Shion one day. None of her arrows of conviction would land anywhere, and she would be reduced to crawling on the ground, physically and mentally battered, ruined. After seeing this vision, a sentiment rose up inside her. And she voiced it aloud. “I’ll take that challenge.” (41/47) It’s only an eye, Yuki thought. What’s the problem? What happened to your fearlessness? What happened to being ready to die whenever? When did you start caring about survival? When did you start considering giving up? Idiot. Die. Die. Go off and drop dead. What’s wrong with crashing and burning? Your true goal is to die after using up every last ounce of your soul. Isn’t that why you’ve walked down the path of a player? So see it through until the end. “I have no intention of quitting, come what may,” Yuki said, thinking about her right eye. “I’d be happy if I can die like you.” (42/47) A vision came to Shion, as if she was staring at a mirror. Did Yuki understand what clearing ninety-nine games would entail? One risked death playing even a single game, but repeating that ninety-nine times? The prospect of succeeding at that was as unlikely as the probability of a ball passing through a wall via quantum tunneling. Could that even be called a goal? How was continuing down that path anything but a roundabout way of committing suicide? “I’d quit if I were you,” Shion said. The next thing she knew, she was spouting off words of advice. “Don’t cling to a ridiculous goal like that. Otherwise, you’ll crash and burn before long—just like me.” Who are you to say anything? Shion thought. Life would have been so easy if you had been able to do that. But you weren’t, so look at where you are now: fumbling around like an idiot. “Just like me”? Get real. You really have the gall to compare your stupid ass to a human being? You’re no human. Since that accursed day, you’ve been a demon with no respect for anyone. And because you aren’t human, it makes sense a superior being would take you out. Face it already. There’s not a single soul in this world who will accept you— “I’ll take that challenge.” Hearing that statement cut short her train of thought. “I have no intention of quitting, come what may… I’d be happy if I can die like you.” Shion carefully processed Yuki’s words. She felt her soul grow quiet. The constant turmoil inside her that raged on whenever she was awake, regardless of where she was or what she was doing, calmed down. The feelings from when she had been taken in by Kyara and lived together with the other protégés long ago came rushing back. With just a handful of words, Yuki had granted even someone like Shion salvation. So this is the girl who slayed Kyara, Shion thought. It was now clear to Shion that everything had been building up to this moment. She had been made to survive this long all so that she could encounter the player standing before her. What did fate have in store for her next? “Trick or treat,” Shion said. She looked over at Yuki’s basket, which was running rather empty. “Hand that over. If you do, I’ll spare your life.” Yuki instantly replied, “No.” Shion crawled up to Yuki. (43/47) Yuki watched as Shion crawled up to her. Yuki kept her guard up. Her opponent was injured, but players on the brink often proved to be the most formidable, as they would quite literally fight to their last breath. Yuki was far more wary of Shion than she had been of any other player she had encountered over the course of the game. There was no need to fight. Since this was a survival game, Yuki only needed to secure enough treats and flee. And fortunately for her, Shion’s leg was broken, granting Yuki the advantage in agility. As such, running away sounded like an easy task on paper. Unfortunately for her, however, she was cornered in a dead end. To her left, right, and back were pumpkins, while Shion was directly in front of her. Conceivably, she could squeeze through the blockade in one direction—behind her, where the wall had collapsed and blocked the path—but that ran the risk of causing the surrounding walls to give way. And since Yuki would have to slow down to pass through, there was a high risk of Shion catching up to her. That meant her only choice was to go forward—escape the dead end by slipping past Shion. Should Yuki dash to the left or right of her? After a moment’s hesitation, Yuki settled on the latter. Going left would force her to track Shion’s movements with her right eye—the eye that was now a ticking time bomb. Yuki moved her legs. Taking care to not spill any treats from the basket in her hand, she performed multiple feints before dashing to Shion’s right. However— Like a mirror reflection, Shion dashed in the same direction and at the exact same time as Yuki. “……!” Yuki gritted her teeth. Her opponent had predicted her first move. Shion ran with her arms and right leg, staying close to the ground. Although she was slower than the bipedal Yuki, she was speedy enough to be able to block Yuki’s path. As Shion got closer, she lifted her arms off the ground and grabbed at Yuki’s robe. Yuki also stayed close to the ground and latched onto Shion’s arms. The basket hanging from her arm swayed from the motion. Yuki instinctively looked over, but fortunately, not a single treat had fallen out. She turned back to Shion and firmly squeezed the girl’s arms. In spite of that, Shion was still attempting to charge forward. Her arm strength was unimaginable for an injured person. The fight-or-flight response was working its magic. Shion’s eyes narrowed for a short second; it looked as though she had failed to blink. However, her next words made clear that was not what had happened. “Wait a second… Are you worried about your right eye?” Yuki’s body went cold, as if a spirit had breathed on her. She reflexively thrust out her leg. However, Shion ducked to dodge the attack. Not only that, she used her momentum to pull down on Yuki, forcing Yuki to let go. Shion retreated one, two, three steps backward, moving out of range of Yuki’s arms. Returning from a sitting posture to a standing one, Yuki began to think. She figured it out. She knows about my right eye. How? From the color of my iris? Or did my movements make it obvious? Is that how she predicted I would dash to the right? No, her reaction implies she only realized it just now. As Yuki panicked, the situation continued to shift. Shion readied her next strike, picking up a pumpkin from the ground. Using a pumpkin as a weapon was a conventional method of attack that all players had likely attempted at least once during the game. Even Yuki had done so a number of times, and she had seen others do the same as well. And yet, Yuki couldn’t hide her shock at Shion. The pumpkin in the girl’s arms was the size of a microwave. Could adrenaline really enable such feats? Shion threw the large object, which was quite possibly heavier than herself. Her aim was perfect, and the pumpkin came flying straight at Yuki. Since Yuki had no desire to counter the squash head-on, she moved. As she had been leaning on her right foot at the time, she shifted over to her left foot and dodged the pumpkin by moving left— But the next moment, a blow she had failed to see coming struck her on the head. Yuki was knocked to the ground. (44/47) Shion knocked Yuki to the ground. The girl’s basket fell nearby, sending the treats inside scattering everywhere. Shion had spun on her arms to land a roundhouse kick straight out of a breakdance routine and was now observing the aftermath of her attack. She had hit her target, much to her own surprise. Her maneuver was simple. All she had done was slip around to the right of Yuki and kick her. She had engineered the situation by throwing a pumpkin to induce Yuki to run to the left, but that was as complicated as it got. Not only had Yuki failed to evade the attack, it seemed she didn’t even notice it coming. And so the girl had quite readily toppled onto the ground, her treats going flying. I can do this, Shion thought. Yuki can’t see out of that eye. Doesn’t seem like she’s fully blind, but she’ll miss things if I complicate the situation. It’s over for her as a player. With vision problems, she won’t be able to fight in close quarters. Although third-rate players might be deceived, a player of Shion’s caliber would easily be able to take advantage of Yuki’s weakness. Despite being battered and bruised, Shion would stand a fighting chance. Once again, she thought this was her lucky day— Soon after she saw that glimmer of hope, a large number of approaching footsteps echoed by. Shion had been so focused on fighting that she hadn’t noticed them earlier. This was no time to be mocking Yuki. The next thing Shion knew, they were lined up, shoulder to shoulder, as if to block her escape from the dead end. Children—over ten of them in total. Shion realized the sky had brightened. The end of the game was nigh. All the children in the venue were probably gathering around the living players, demanding oodles of treats as the ultimate finale. “Trick!” “Or!” “Treat!” The children spoke in unison. Shion and Yuki looked in the same direction—at the basket on the ground. It had fallen right next to Yuki, a short distance away from Shion. The treats inside along with the ones that had fallen out added up to less than twenty in total—not enough for both players to select “treat.” Both players likely made this connection at the exact same time. And at the exact same time, both players began to act. Yuki grabbed the treats that had fallen near her and started tossing them at the children. Shion dashed as fast as she could toward Yuki, making use of her momentum to attack the girl. Yuki grabbed Shion’s arms to defend herself, resulting in the same situation as earlier. This time, however, the deadlock did not last for long. If they wasted any time, the children would brutally murder them both. They gave up scuffling with each other and instead turned their attention to the treats scattered on the ground, kneeling down and swiftly maneuvering their hands to grab as many as they could. “Trick or…” “Treat!” The children made their second declaration. Shion and Yuki’s struggle intensified. Since there were not enough treats for them both, they needed to hinder their opponent. Slapping away the other’s treat-grubbing hands. Stealing treats hidden behind the other’s back. Catching candy being tossed at the children in midair. They used not only their arms but also their legs, scraping the dirt like windshield wipers to pull in treats close to them and entangle their opponent’s arms. Of course, they did not forget to directly attack one another. “Trick or treat!” By the time the third declaration came, Yuki and Shion had each settled on the strategy of attacking one another with both arms while scraping treats towards them with both legs. The two fought with every inch of their bodies, while in seated positions. However… “—Trick!” Around half the children raised their weapons and came running at the two. They had failed to meet the time limit. Neither Shion nor Yuki had supplied enough treats to all the children. “Temporary ceasefire!” Yuki yelled at Shion. Yuki then turned toward the dead end where pumpkins blocked the path, yet where squeezing through seemed barely feasible. As if realizing that would be the only possible avenue of escape, Yuki leaped to her feet and darted in that direction. By that point, however, Shion, too, had already started dashing on all fours. As she moved, Shion casually slipped over to Yuki’s right side. In order to pull off her plan, being on the side Yuki had difficulty seeing would prove beneficial. Like Yuki, Shion had decided to flee from the children, but she had not simply acquiesced to Yuki’s proposition of a temporary ceasefire. Shion had a disadvantage in speed on account of her broken left leg. Since she was staying close to the ground, she had managed to maintain a decent initial velocity, but it wouldn’t be long before Yuki left her in the dust. Plus, she would have to slow down to squeeze between the pumpkins blocking the path, which meant the children would naturally catch up. Shion needed to buy time. She needed a sacrifice to grant her the time needed for a successful escape. Shion looked over at Yuki, who was running to her left. Mentally, she directed a few words toward the girl. Thanks for saving my heart. Thanks for acknowledging me. But—this is where you die for me. Shion extended her arms and took aim at Yuki’s legs, which were moving at great speed. Then she pounced to deal a blow that would be unavoidable and impossible to detect. However, at that very moment, Yuki jumped, as if she had seen it coming with her right eye. (45/47) Yuki hadn’t seen anything. However, she had expected an attack to come. No way would Shion be able to escape on her own with a broken leg, and the girl was, above all else, a homicidal maniac. Not a player but a murderer. Not a pro at surviving but a pro at killing. Consequently, Yuki had figured Shion would make a move. She familiar with how someone like Shion would think, having fought Kyara in the past. And so she could tell without needing to see. The right side of Yuki’s field of vision was impaired. However, if she knew ahead of time that something was coming, predicting and evading the attack by sensing her opponent’s malice was no difficult task, as long as she knew it was something she wouldn’t be able to see. And Yuki had gone even further than that. For she had come to the exact same conclusion as Shion—that simply running away would not allow her to escape from the children. That was why she had induced Shion to run to her right, why she had invited an attack, and why she had intentionally spun around as she jumped up. Another characteristic of homicidal maniacs was that they always believed themselves to be in the position of killing. The possibility of being in the position of being killed—the chance of being counterattacked the moment their guard was lowered during their attack—would cross their mind too late. Just as how Yuki had an impairment in her right eye, Shion also had, in a certain sense, a flaw in her vision. That was the flaw Yuki took advantage of. Spinning in midair, Yuki extended her legs. She landed a roundhouse kick to Shion’s neck, causing the girl to fly off in the direction of the children. Yuki did not stop to watch Shion’s fate unfold. She turned away from the girl, kicked the ground as she landed, and took off running. The moment she reached the dead end, she heard the sound of bones snapping behind her. It was immediately obvious what that noise represented. Yuki squeezed through a gap in the pumpkins blocking the path and continued forward. Since the pumpkins were as densely packed as passengers on a rush-hour train, Yuki was forced to reduce her speed to a fraction of what it had been. Upon turning her attention behind her, she sensed a number of children approaching. They were still in hot pursuit. Squeezing through the narrow space, she felt vibrations through the pumpkins in contact with her body. The vibrations came at a steady rhythm—thump, thump, thump, thump. Curious as to their source, Yuki looked up—off intuition alone, rather than a particular suspicion. Her nose for survival was the sole reason she had been able to notice what next she lay eyes on. A child holding a giant saw was standing on the pumpkin, directly above Yuki’s current position. Yuki reflexively crouched down. The saw passed right above her skull—no—passed through a fraction of an inch into the top of her skull. Pain seared in her head, and hair that had been gouged out scattered into the air around her, along with fluffy white blood. The second Yuki realized the child had jumped on the pumpkins like stepping stones, something struck her back. It was, of course, that very same child, who had landed on her body. The impact forced Yuki to the ground stomach-first, knocking the air out of her lungs. She tried to breathe in to replenish the air she had lost but realized it was impossible. The child was strangling her with the strength of a hydraulic press. Yuki attempted to rip the kid off, but they would not budge. The children had been blessed with the special grace of the organizers. They possessed great strength that would render players completely helpless. Soon, Yuki’s vision gradually began to fade in and out. Her brain slowly stopped functioning. Something white spouted out in the corner of her consciousness and rapidly invaded her head. Just as it had filled nearly every inch of Yuki’s mind and threatened to cross the final line… …Yuki heard the sound of chirping. (46/47) Chirp, chirp. Chirp, chirp. The noise continued to repeat over and over. It was the sound of birds. However, it was no natural sound, for it repeated in exactly the same way and could be heard from all directions. It must have been a recording being pumped from the speakers set up inside the pumpkins. Yuki understood it signaled the arrival of morning. Soon, the force around Yuki’s neck disappeared, as did the bloodthirst and weight coming from above. She heard footsteps heading farther and farther away. Those pieces of information were enough for her to conclude that the child armed with a saw had let her go. The game was over. Yuki had achieved her forty-fifth victory. She sat up on the ground and breathed in and out while rubbing her neck with her hand. It had been a close call. If the game had ended a second or two later, she would be dead by now. She had snatched victory from the jaws of death while in a far more dangerous position than in Candle Woods and Golden Bath. Yuki looked back. Although she couldn’t see past the crowd of pumpkins, she gazed in the direction where Shion’s corpse should have been. She was a strong foe, Yuki thought. I can’t believe she connected the dots about my right eye so quickly and took advantage of it. This eye of mine will be a fatal weakness against top-class players—that’s the lesson she taught me. Regardless, Yuki had survived. However… “…Things aren’t looking good at this rate,” she muttered, with a small but sure resolve within her. It was not until her agent came to greet her that Yuki realized she had forgotten to say her usual phrase—“Good game.” (47/47)