This is bad...
To my greatest dismay, we are going to play the trials. Only Deva and I were against participating in these so-called friendship trials; the others agreed, though Safa seemed a bit reluctant.
But who among us has a debt here? I have a guess, but it's better not to make any accusations.
Bunny starts talking, “I’m glad you all chose to play the trials, but remember, your friendship might not make it out unscathed, and we can’t guarantee you’ll leave without injury, either physically or mentally.”
I semi-scream, “You’re supposed to mention the possibility of injury at the beginning!”
Bunny replies, “Oh, don’t be a scaredy cat. It’s only a small possibility of physical injury, and the mental aspect depends on your friends.”
Mahin speaks up, “Let it be. I’m sure the trial won’t violate human rights.”
I respond, “Pretty sure they violated something when they kidnapped us to repay a debt.”
Deva adds, “Also, when they took our belongings.” I internally thank Deva for recognizing the seriousness of the situation.
I speak again, “Mahin, you’re getting married in two months. Why don’t you try to avoid getting injured?”
It surprises me how these idiots, who feel emotions more accurately than I do, don’t see how dire the situation is. Are emotions necessary to understand the gravity of this? Perhaps these guys are just lacking in logic as always.
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Mahin starts, “My marriage is not a matter here because—”
“Cutting you off now. Let’s start with the trials already,” Bunny interrupts.
Safa replies sharply, “I thought you hate being cut off. Isn’t cutting others off a bit hypocritical?”
Hypocritical doesn’t seem like the correct word to use here, or does it? I am not sure myself.
Bunny, now annoyed, says, “Let’s all move to the first trial, shall we?”
He opens the door, and we enter the next room. It looks like a classroom—specifically, the classroom where we all met. It’s nostalgic yet creepy. Every chart, decoration, and poster from our classroom is replicated here. I don’t remember the exact layout, but this room feels like a perfect replica.
“Nostalgic, isn’t it?” Bunny says. We’re all too engrossed in our surroundings to respond.
Bunny continues, “Well, I’ll explain the game. You’ll be playing charades. On the teacher’s desk, you’ll notice cards face down with numbers.”
I groan internally. I hate charades and am terrible at acting out words.
“Each person will take turns picking a card and acting it out, but you are not allowed to speak.”
Maria asks, “How are we supposed to play charades if we can’t talk?”
Bunny replies, “I’m getting to that. The actor will have a minute to act out the word . After the minute is up, you’ll write down your guesses without showing them to others and place them in the box on the table.”
My unease grows. This game doesn’t sit well with me.
“Currently, the debt is divided among you five, so each person owes 2 million. There are three rules: don’t speak during the entirety of the trial, don’t show your guesses to others, and no violence. And if you finish the trial 1 million will be awarded, it will be divided equally among you all”
Mahin asks, “Can we write multiple guesses?”
“Good question,” Bunny says. “Since you asked, I will make it that each person can make up to three guesses. And for your information to pass the trial, you need to win just one round.”
One round? We have a 1 in 5 chance of winning.
“Well then, who’s going first?” Bunny asks.
I am confident but also a bit scared of how this trial is going to test our friendships.