Kusma boy smacks for the button, but a voice resonating above the clamoring crowd abruptly halts him,

“Wait!” it draws both their attention, it’s a young woman, tanned skin, platinum blonde hair, brown prisoner uniform, blue sigils tattooed into her wrist. She’s squeezing herself to the front so she’s able to grip her fingers against the stage. Looking like she’s been desperately shouting the whole time, because she’s out of breath and hyperventilating, exasperatedly exclaiming,

“It’s enough, Iskhal!” her voice sounds hoarse, there’s a devastation on her face,

“It’s enough. You don’t have to do this anymore!” is that, his eyes that he's mentioned earlier? But Kusma boy dismisses her with a bitter,

“Don’t interfere, Meena.” he’s focused on the chart, bouncing his pupils across the price tags.

“Listen to me,” she finally catches her breath, “I know you wish to save me...” so she’s stopped wheezing, and she can now say, very, very seriously,

“But my life choices are mine, and if I have to pay the price for my actions, then so be it. Stop repenting for me. I don’t need you to. It’s already enough. You’ve already done plenty enough, withdraw from the game and go hom-” she must be his sister! These words frustrate him instead, interrupting her with a bite,

“And my choices are mine. As if I’ll watch you die and do absolutely jack shit.” he’s gritting his teeth, inhaling sharply,

“How can you possibly ask me to go home, when you got death sentenced. Why must you take the fall for your guild’s orders.” he completely rejects her opinions,

“The fox is out of the game. He’s the brains behind their group. I’ve already seen all their tricks. I can win this,” he smacks his palm towards the hologram, aiming for the lung wager,

“Just trust me and watc-” Kusma lady suddenly vanishes from her sight. The next moment when Lilith’s panned her head. She sees Kusma boy on the ground, the crowd erupts into whispers. The lady tackled him down, desperatedly screaming,

“Listen to me, stupid little brother!” she seizes his wrist and pins him on the chest with a knee. It instantly sends the Felmane adventurers forward but Cat boy stops them with a furled-out hand. There are tears in her eyes, the next sentence that follows is a plea,

“I cannot keep letting you ruin yourself at a chance to keep me alive.” it's trickling down her face, beading at her chin to splatter against his cheeks,

“I cannot keep watching you lose pieces of you for me. It’s enough already, so please, if you truly care about me, then think about how I feel.” no wonder he's bet his eye and kidney despite it's just an exam he can retake next year. His goal isn't the map. His goal is the 100mil itself. It’s faltering him,

“And what about how I feel?” his words are fracturing; he’s starting to lose his composure too, “I don’t want you to die. I don’t want to lose you.” sitting up, he pushes her off, his voice steels with determination,

“If there’s a sliver of hope, I’m going to take it.” walking away, towards the hologram,

“Even if I have to trade my life. I’m not going home, unless you’re coming with me.” he’s made his decision,

“So, stop making a scene.” he wants to save his sister.

Lilith takes a deep breath. Getting herself ready as she watches Kusma boy approach. She doesn’t know, if it’s empathy or gullibility that’s making her heart tighten. The next rounds will be hard to swallow.

Behind him, his sister isn’t getting up, she’s staring at her knees. Clutching into the fabric of her thighs so tightly, she’s shivering a little. In a whisper, broken with regrets,

“And if you died too,” she asks, “then who’s going to look after Ma and Pa?” the fragments are sharper than daggers. It halts him in his tracks. His eyes gloss with tears,

“That’s so unfair...” but he’s trying hard to stop them from falling so he’s dropped his face. Balling his hands in fists, “I won’t die. And neither will yo-” but he doesn’t finish that sentence,

“You’re not making the decisions anymore.” Kusma lady strikes the back of his nape before he can even turn around and protest,

“Mee-” She’s knocked him out. But she herself is tackled to the floor instantly after, muttering,

“Forgive me.”

A Felmane adventurer is arresting her arms behind her back. Alyss’s shackles got triggered. Binding her wrists together like handcuffs. Her blonde hair, fanning like gold silk against the ground where her cheek is being pressed into. The scene has made the crowd burst out into gossips and gasps. Someone’s shouted, just free her. Before others too chime in to chant, let her go home with her brother. Her actions are changing public sentiment. The masked VIPs are taking her side, even Lilith's getting jeered for winning. Ah... She feels like a piece of shit now.

At that, Cat boy finally gets off the high stool he’s seating on by the corner of the stage,

“Alright, alright.” he’s slow clapping,

“That’s enough melodrama for one game.” ushering his underlings to clean up,

“Take the kid to the infirmary. Check if his kidney stitches have opened up.” carrying Kusma boy away to disappear behind the curtains.

Her expression hardens at the sight of him, bearing fangs, sharper than knives. She squares her jaws, grits her teeth. But she holds herself back from saying anything. Perhaps she’s afraid he’ll harm her brother if she does. So, she’s just snarling when Cat boy snarks,

“For a mass murderer, you sure play the victim card well, Meena Samir.” he lowers before her, gripping a hand into her fringe to yank her head up so she can look him in the eyes when he taunts,

“Is this what you hoped for? That your touching little act is enough to spur enough empathy so we’ll spare your life?” she jerks her head away from his clutches, curses,

“Fuck you.”

He straightens himself to continue accusing her,

“But did you feel even a shred of empathy, when you tore all those other families apart? When you ripped up all my comrades trying to stop you?” looming over her with contemptuous disdain, he’s changed the hologram to a mug shot of her with a few taps on his ring,

“You make me gag." Cat boy really doesn't like her, "why don’t you let everyone see what an ugly sow you truly are.”

Beneath the portrait, a clip starts playing. She looks like she’s in a prison of some sorts. Surrounding her, are terrified commoners in chains. Some of them, not older than eighteen. The observer is looking at her through the bars. Are these memories? She seems like a different person in the video. Devoid, is the warmth and soft feelings she displayed when she conversed with her brother. Merticulous. Cold. Kusma lady is working on a surgical table. A harsh white light shining down on the incision she’s made on the person strapped on it. A young girl, still alive and struggling. Her wrists and ankles, bolted down by metal locks. A towel shoved in her mouth that she’s biting so hard on, its stained red. Her screams are terribly muffled. Cold sweat drenching down her face, ashen white with pain. Eyes wide with terror. Kusma lady is taking her guts, piece by piece out of her. Delicately arranging them into the ice boxes next to her, making small talk with the dead escapee prisoner behind her, a video camera in hand. Conversing something about, they can double their profits if they made a snuff film out of this too.

Cat boy turns around, addressing the crowd,

“I assure you, honored guests, whatever fate awaits them, is simply retribution for the sickening deeds they’ve done.” It hushing the chants, slowly dying down in valor, there are less VIPs trying to defend her now,

“It’s the likes of her that makes you wary about going out at night, it’s the likes of her that your children may disappear from your porch. And it’s also the likes of her that’s making money from your organs she’s stolen from. Don't get fooled by a momentary kindness. It won't change the fact that they are monsters in sheep's skin. So, don't feel bad for them. Bet to your heart's content, let them suffer the same way they've made you.” until it's all but silent. Though, it’s strange that the prisoners in the crowd aren’t retaliating either. Instead, they’re quietly accepting the condemnation, but not out of guilt. It’s almost like they’re afraid. Afraid to speak up so they may lose their chance of salvation,

“Let them wager their guts away. It’ll be put to good use for the survivors they’ve harmed, for my comrades they crippled.” Felmane is subduing them with hope and fear.

Kusma lady doesn’t try to find excuses for herself. What’s that look she’s wearing on her face? Defeat? Resignation? No... It’s closer to indignation. She’s silently biting her lip. Brows tightly furrowed. Crushing her eyes shut for a moment before she opens them again when she’s yanked from the floor by the Felmane adventurer that was seizing her. She isn’t struggling. But second adventurer came in to lock her upper arm for good measures. Dragging her away after Cat boy orders them to take her to solitary confinement to wait for her execution. She’s out of the trial for this little charade she’s tried to pull.

Then Cat boy declares Lilith’s victory. Coming next to her to raise her arm up by the wrist. They won't cheer for her either. There's a heavy mood in the room.

Lilith isn’t paying attention to the audience anymore. She tilts her head over her shoulders. Watching Kusma lady get escorted away. She’s sparing a longing glance beyond the curtains where her brother was taken. Her expression has changed to something that resembles regret. Voicelessly mouthing to herself. Lilith reads, Stay alive, Iskhal.

Lilith can’t help but to feel a little conflicted now. Unlike what Cat boy’s been implicating, Lilith actually doesn’t think the concern Kusma lady showed for her brother is fake, is an act to get sympathy. She truly was worried about his safety. She truly didn’t want him to get hurt.

She doesn’t feel good about winning this game anymore. She doesn’t even realize when she has gotten off the stage. And it’s only when Cyan claps a hand over her face that she’s snapped out of her thoughts again. Oh. He got released by the Felmane adventurers at least.

He’s saying something about he's gotten Bob’s gun confiscated. They can no longer use the bind in the next games. But they probably shouldn’t approach Bob for now. It’s good to keep him hidden as their trump card. Make their opponents think those were all Cyan’s doings. Then, he’s informing her that the next round is going to begin in 30 minutes. Pointing to the brackets that got matched on the hologram.

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

Apparently, it goes like this. The first bracket is her versus Kusma boy, Froggy vs Anxious Bucktooth, Blythe vs Mr Business, and Snake vs Spider. Then, the second bracket and finals happen tomorrow where the winners of the first round will be shuffled against each other. They’ll have plenty of time to observe their opponent’s strategies and come up with counter plays. But... she really doesn't have much motivation to play any longer. This game isn't that fun anymore.

She isn’t exactly in the right headspace to talk about tactics right now, instead, she’s asking,

“Don’t you feel bad for those Kusma siblings? Ishkal... or something. I feel bad for him.” he frowns at her,

“Why do you get distracted by useless things so much? You’ve got yourself to worry about. Even though you won that game just now, it won’t guarantee that you’ll win the following ones. And if you don’t walk out with at least 200k by the end of this. You may very well lose your kidney too.” she knows that. But she can’t help but to argue,

“I just feel like a shit person knowing that the people I’m throwing under the bus have feelings too. I don’t think Ishkal did anything wrong... He just wanted to protect his sister that he dearly loves. So, why did they take his organs from him too? Why are they making us, the examinees accept the same wager?”

“What. Did you think all your opponents are going to be one dimensional bad guys and all your allies are going to be one dimensional good guys?” she flinches. He’s called her out. She did think of them that way. But she doesn’t voice it out. Cyan scoffs,

“The real world isn’t like that. Most people are a muddy shade of grey. To be an adventurer, you’ll have to live with that. Live with knowing that sometimes, you have to be the bad guy in someone else’s narrative. This is the way we choose to repent. If we are unwilling to risk what we deal, then it’ll just make us spineless hypocrites.”

“But I don’t want to be the bad guy...”

“Stop being naïve.” he rolls his eyes, “you can’t please everyone even if you’re a saint.” she isn’t listening. She’s turning on her heel towards the back stage. Cyan immediately stops her by the wrist,

“Where the heck are you going?”

“I’m going to go see him, Ishkal.”

“What the fuck. Why are you so nosy?”

“I just want to hear his story. I feel bad...” for winning, she consciously omits, “I feel like I should do something to help him.”

“And what are you going to do? Stroll into the ward and be like,” he commentates sarcastically,

“Hey it sucks that you lost, but tell me your life story so I can give you, my pity? Trust me. He won’t want it." then he studies her expressions abit and guesses,

"Or do you want to drop out of the exam because you need to be a bad person to clear it?" it takes her words out of her,

"No..." she isn't willing to give up either, she's trying to think of a solution to her internal conandrium, “I’m going to give the money I won back to him.” that instantly makes him yell,

“The fuck? You’re straight up retarded!” then he glances around, there aren’t any games going around right now, the VIPs are dispersing to distract themselves with refreshments that's being served by the bunny ladies, whereas the prisoners have relegated to small groups engaged in their own activities. They're quick to move on like it's simply an episode of a soap opera that they're enjoying. People can be so callous when it's something that doesn't directly concern them.

Regardless Cyan doesn't want to draw attention to them so he lowers his voice,

“Then how do you intend to pass this trial if you’re just returning everything you make? What if every opponent of yours has a sob story to tell? Are you going to return their money too? How gullible can you be.” he’s forming an entire argument,

“And need I remind you, it’s not just your money. It’s our money. Bob and my chances of passing this hall is in your inventory too!” oh. So now he believes in communism.

“Fine. Then, I’ll just give him my share of it.” she’s getting passive aggressive, “it’s not like you’re planning to take me to the second hall to begin with.”

“Do whatever.” he sounds annoyed, crossing his arms. She doesn’t stay to debate. Turning around, she heads to the flight of stairs towards the curtains.

The backstage is bare minimal with metal grated windows overlooking the industrial side of the city. Fogged with dust and smoke glistering under the afternoon sun, splattering into shadows against the wooden floor tiles. The other contestants are off to a corner. Seating on the crates and props. Blythe’s leaning against something that looks like a metal dragonhead. Her vision fixated on Mr Business who has his face buried in his phone, breaking out in cold sweat as he’s rapid typing messages. Beside them, Snake is trying to strike conversations but no one else is really entertaining him aside from the awkward laughing bunny girl he's probably yanked from her way up to the audience podium.

Lilith’s presence had just attracted their glances, but no one is interested in coming up to make small talk, so she’s just quietly passing. Despite what Cyan’s said to her, he’s following her regardless. And it’s only after she turns the corner, she asks him why. He simply replied, she’ll probably get swindled again if he left her alone. He could’ve just admitted he cares about her. So, now, they’re going down a corridor, lined with out-of-use changing rooms and costumes storage. There are prisoner uniforms on the racks. Guess that’s where the other examinees found theirs. Perhaps she really shouldn’t have bothered Alyss. Then, she sees another adventurer in medic's uniform exiting a room with a clipboard in hand, going down a flight of stairs in the opposite end.

That must be the infirmary. The door is already slightly ajar. She pushes it open. It isn’t so much of an infirmary but just another dresser with first aid kits littered on the shelves and a hospital cot awkwardly stuffed in the middle. Kusma boy is seated on it. Holding his head as if he’s trying to recover from a terrible migraine. Upon hearing her enter, Kusma boy flicks his gaze up. Brushing his fringe from his eyes with a palm. Displeased to see her,

“What do you want?” he’s defensive, like a cat being startled,

“Are you here to rub it in my face?” Cyan’s chosen to stay outside. Leaning against the wall with his arms crossed before his chest.

“I’m not you.” she instinctively snaps. Reminding herself of her motives, she softens her voice to ask gently as she can,

“Are you okay?” he’s staring at her for a moment. Almost confused as if he’s questioning, he’s heard it right, before he chuckles at the absurdity of her actions,

“You really are incredibly dumb. Or incredibly egocentric? What do you want to hear from me? I’m okay. I’m fine. It’s not your fault that I’ve lost the only chance to save my sister to you, so you can feel like a decent person?” maybe Cyan and him will get along, in fact, Cyan’s accidentally let out a huffing breath. He laughed. He definitely laughed.

“It’s probably the latter.” she brazenly admits, a part of her does want to hear, she isn’t a bad person for choosing her own merits over someone else’s that she hardly knows. She gets to the point,

“I can’t give you all your money back. But I can give you my share of it.” bringing up the hologram of her inventory,

“If you’re energetic enough to snark me, then come. Let’s go formalize the transaction. You can continue the trial like this.” he instantly frowns,

“I don’t need your pity.” how the heck are they so alike? Cyan and Ishkal are basically two peas in a pot. So, she’s using the same tactics she knows works on Cyan,

“It’s not for you. I just need to not feel like a jackass.” or maybe not, because Ishkal is way more willing to exploit her. He scoffs after taking a moment to see right through her,

“I do resent you for winning.” in an incredibly nonchalant way too,

“So, don’t expect me to coddle your fragile feelings with nice words. If you don’t want to feel like a jackass, then help me get to the second hall. You want your ego stroked, go above and beyond, you seem like the type that has a hero complex.” his proposal has disarmed her a little. He’s rather difficult to deal with. He’s the type that wouldn’t hesitate to ask for the ocean when she’s offered a lake. But... he isn’t exactly wrong. She can't just do the bare minimum and expect to be thanked for it.

Quieting, she sincerely considers it before she relents,

“I’m not the most useful in this trial... but okay. You can come with. I'll try my best to help you, but only until the second hall.” it instantly makes Cyan snap at her, barging into the door way,

“What the heck? Are you fucking dumb? Stop collecting teammates as if you’re some harem protagonist. Bring him to the second hall and he’ll just end up as our enemy again. Don’t forget, his goal is different from ours. He doesn’t care about the map. He wants the 100mil to redeem his sister’s freedom.”

“But the total inventory of all the chosen contestants is close to 40mil. And, with how the tournament is structured, it’s either I win everything and we all get to advance, or I lose everything and all of us are stuck here. I think, at this point, it’s better to have an additional ally than an enemy.” she admits,

“I’m not very good at this game. But you, Bob, and Iskhal are. So, what’s wrong with accepting more strong comrades that can help us win this event? We can all clear the trial together.”

“Stop being so baselessly optimistic.” he’s intentionally commentating loudly enough so Ishkal hears them,

“What guarantees he won’t stab us in the back? He looks exactly the sort that would.” Ishkal’s laughter stops her from retaliating. Instead, they’re now focused on him to watch him shrug,

“He’s right, you know.” is his sister really on death row? He seems way too relaxed about things, or maybe he’s just the type that is uncomfortable showing how he truly feels in front of strangers,

“The moment a better opportunity approaches my way, I won’t hesitate to discard you. I have no attachments towards you regardless the sort of complex you feel towards me.”

“But I still don’t think you’re a bad person.” she declares, “someone that’s truly malicious won’t try to caution me about taking the wager.”

“I just wanted you to give up and accept your loss.”

“Then why would you admit that you may stab us in the back? If you’re really a bad guy, you would try to coddle up to us, make us trust you, then betray us when we don’t see it coming.” that takes the argument out of him. He chokes on his words, the only thing escaping his lips is a single,

“A-” before he closes his mouth and purses his lips. Avoiding her face. He’s making that expression. That expression that says, he feels like a piece of shit now. Despite how much he carries on his shoulders, Ishkal is very much a child like the rest of them. He hunches forward, fidgeting with his fingers resting in his lap before he defeatedly sighs,

“The brown uniforms are not entirely spell locked.” looks like he’s decided to trust them so he’s disclosing information. Cyan immediately takes an interest,

“What do you mean?”

“My sister’s guild members.” he clarifies, “they’re only spell locked for overt spells, those with an obvious visual effect. But, not for covert spells.” it rings a bell in her head,

“Is that how your sister can read my cards with Magia?” he’s admitted it in the game with her. He nods,

“That’s why, even if the brown uniforms are shackled, never let your guard down against them.” warning them,

“And, Mideia Veret, the spider mythical woman, beware of her. She has some mind reading type ability.” she's one of the contestants in the tournament. The one with the highest win count. She asks,

“Was she the one you lost your eye and kidney to?”

“Just the kidney. The eye I lost because we got backstabbed by another former ally. Some dude with blue hair and a band aid on his nose.” she remembers him! Its plaster guy she’s seen at the start of this trial.

“But why? Weren’t they your sister’s allies, why are they screwing you over?”

“With the promise of being acquitted, this game has made them turn against each other. What’s easier? Getting 300mil to free all of them? Or throwing your friends under the bus so you can increase your own chances?” Alyss probably did that so that the prisoners won’t band up and rebel. No wonder the escapee accused her of being sadistic and fucked up. She can be quite belligerent if she wants to. Lilith probably shouldn’t get on her bad side. She reassures,

“Don’t worry. We promise we won’t stab you in the back!” and proceeds to shove Cyan’s face away when he sneakily commentates,

“I’m not promising shit.” he still doesn’t trust him. Although, she knows by this point, if she insists, Cyan would probably go along. She is the only one that can play in this event, so she has the leverage here. Ishkal hops off the bed, extending a hand towards her,

“Okay then. Until we reach the second hall, we’ll help each other out. Use me however you like to win the games. After that, we’ll go our own ways.” seeing this makes her elated, this is the first time she’s successfully negotiated. It almost feels like she’s making friends. Slipping her hand into his, she gives him a firm shake, introducing herself,

“I’m Lilith, and he’s Cyan. We also have Bob. He’s the one that made the truth bullet. We’ll introduce you later.” but what she hasn’t expected was for him to raise her fingers and touch her knuckles with his lips. What’s with this romance novelesque greeting? It’s a little flattering. It catches her off guard with how gleaming gold his pupil is when he flicks his head up and introduces,

“Ishkal Samir.” woah. What is this? Why is her heart fluttering? His eye is so beautiful. It glisters like an amber. Then, he unhands her and tells Cyan smugly,

“And that’s how you play a fuck boy character.” it’s to snark him for yesterday. Cyan gags,

“You’re fucking cringe.”

“Well, she did say, if I’m planning to backstab you, I got to first coddle up and strike when you least anticipate it.” is that what it was? Cyan retorts,

“Declaring your ill intentions preemptively will not make you less of a jackass.”

She shakes herself back into focus. Making a mental note to herself, be wary of people with pretty privilege. She almost got bamboozled. Kusma boy isn’t listening anymore, he’s stuck a finger into an ear, as if he’s trying to pick at Cyan’s remarks,

“Whatever. Are you always such a shrew? You’re naggier than my mom.” then he changes the topic,

“Let’s just go back to the test hall. If we want to win, then we gatta find out what the opponents can do.” he checks the wall clock above the vanity, brushing him off,

“Second round’s already started.” then he turns on his heel. Making for the door. Energetically marching towards it. It’s starting to feel like they did get swindled. Is this okay? Did she make the right decisions?