Chapter 31

(0/3) Yuki awoke inside a car. (1/3) It took no time for her to realize this was where she was. Not only could she sense the texture of the seat, the roar of the engine, and the swaying of a vehicle, but her left eye also could see the night scenery zooming by, the front windshield separating her from the outside world, and her agent sitting in the driver’s seat. Yuki was clearly inside a car. With her still-heavy head, Yuki gradually pieced together her current situation. Most likely, she had entered and cleared her sixty-second game. Her left eye, which had gotten injured during the game, was apparently back to normal. She also touched the spots in her chest and stomach where she had gotten stabbed, but she felt no pain. Although she couldn’t exactly tell the state of her insides, at the very least, her wounds had closed. Upon noticing Yuki’s awakening, her agent glanced over. “Good morning, Yuki,” she said. “Good morning,” Yuki mumbled back. Typically, her agent would follow up by saying “Congratulations on clearing the game,” but this time, she broke with tradition and simply kept staring at Yuki out of the corner of her eye. Since Yuki sensed something serious about that gaze, and her head was still a little cloudy, she did not respond with a casual “You should keep your eyes on the road.” Instead, she let time tick on. Finally, her agent said, “Congratulations…on clearing your sixty-second game.” “Thank you,” Yuki replied normally, rather than staying silent or glancing back. Her agent closely observed Yuki before continuing. “…I am truly glad you made it out alive.” The phrasing seemed rather solemn to Yuki. “Sure,” Yuki said. “Is something wrong? You sound awfully dramatic.” Did something special happen? Yuki wondered. While clearing sixty-two games was an impressive feat, it was not a milestone by any means. It was a perfectly ordinary number. Was her agent making a big deal out of it because Yuki had faced a major predicament for the first time in a while? Yuki’s confusion was left unresolved. “…No, forget about it,” her agent said, before shifting her gaze back to the road. Their conversation ended there. The car continued to move. As they neared the end of the trip to Yuki’s apartment, they got stopped at the final traffic light before they could turn onto the side street from the main road. “You can drop me off here,” Yuki said. “Are you sure?” “Yeah. I feel like taking in the night breeze.” “…As you wish.” Yuki’s agent handed her the outfit from her most recent game: the garb of a European swordfighter. There were stitches all over the costume, and the moment Yuki saw them, the same spots on her body reacted by throbbing. Although her injuries should have fully healed, for some reason, they still echoed with pain. Yuki stepped out of the car and started walking along the evening road. Since she could only see out of one eye, she lacked depth perception, but because it was a familiar path, she was able to proceed safely without tripping over a rock or slamming into a utility pole. In the middle of her stroll home, Yuki wondered why she had said that to her agent. Had she actually wanted to feel the night air? If so, why had she felt that way? She gave it some thought but couldn’t find a concrete answer. Her head was hazy, but it didn’t seem like it was simply because she had just woken up. It felt like some parts of her brain were frozen solid. What was going on? With muddled feelings, Yuki arrived at her apartment. However, she stopped in front of it—for someone was standing in the way. (2/3) It was a girl around high school age. She was rather tall and slim. She had on a worn-out tracksuit that must have been at least five years old. Her hair was long, and her skin was so pale it seemed like she lived without ever seeing the sun. Her lifeless face resembled a phantom’s. Besides the single hair clip adorning her bangs, her appearance was utterly plain and unrefined. The girl had an otherworldly quality. Her aura was chilly enough that one could feel it even on a night as brisk as this. The air about her was tense, and she had no obvious weaknesses to exploit. She exuded a sense of danger, as though she would stab anyone in a vital point the moment they looked away yet would also lunge out and attack anyone who stared at her for more than a second. There was no way she was a resident of the normal world. She seemed like the kind of person who would, say, put food on the table with prize money from death games. Am I looking in a mirror? Yuki wondered. However, that couldn’t be right, because the girl’s appearance matched Yuki’s perfectly, down to the colors of her eyes. Her right eye was white, while her left eye was not. It was impossible for her to be a mirror reflection. Yet the girl did not appear to be a physical entity, either. The farther right Yuki looked, the clearer the girl appeared, while the farther left Yuki looked, the hazier the girl appeared. That phenomenon ran completely counter to Yuki’s vision, as she could only see out of her left eye. The girl’s existence became clear where Yuki’s vision was unclear—and unclear where Yuki’s vision should have been clear. Yuki knew the exact word to describe what she was seeing. A hallucination. “—Welcome back,” the girl said. “…Who are you?” Yuki asked. The girl gave a scornful smile. “Can’t you tell? It’s me.” A hallucination of myself. Yuki had no idea how to handle the situation. What the heck is going on? Why am I seeing me? “Well, let’s head inside.” The hallucination pointed at the apartment with her thumb. “We’ll have a nice long chat about how things are going to go from here.” (3/3)