Luck… Is that what they’re calling this? Do people still believe they came here by their own free will? Those poor souls won’t last two days here. Besides, it’s not even about them, it’s about my will to survive this nightmare and win this stupid game: the game to become God… Some of you may call me heartless, cruel, or even cold-blooded; I like to say I’ve hardened my body, deadened my emotions, and desensitized my mind in order to resist the temptations of The Spiral. For once you enter The Spiral and don’t rebound, you not only lose this game, but your life and soul.
I’ve forgotten to introduce myself. My name is Victoria Lee, but in this world, I go by Lady Mercedes Vida, delegate for the candidacy of godhood, sponsored by Plutronics Unlimited. Oh yeah, you still don’t know anything that’s happening. I guess I’ll give you the lowdown. Do you remember seeing “That Guy?” The one that’s always on the street corner spouting conspiracy theory nonsense that the country wasn’t controlled by the president or even a government body, but actually by the mega corporation giants. While it’s pretty easy to dismiss something that crazy-sounding, sometimes, these theories can be real. Now before you go off and start twisting my words to justify your own conspiracy theory views as fact, not every conspiracy theory is real, in fact, 99.9% of them are downright stupid and false. Bigfoot: those are just fur suit sightings, Loch Ness Monster: that’s a piece of driftwood, using cell towers to distribute a virus for global warfare: do you even know how technology works? Don’t even get me started down that rabbit hole of what I won’t even call theories but idiotic trails of thought. The point I am trying to make is that the “Crazy Man’s Theory” is actually correct, however it is a little more complicated than it seems.
Behind the scenes is a group called The Grand Order, a collection of the current top 200 mega-corporations and businesses. A company’s revenue determines its rank and eligibility for The Grand Order. Every four years, which syncs up with the presidential election cycle, The Grand Order comes together for a competition of their own. A competition that transforms every aspect of living in this country. This competition isn’t as civil or organized as voting, it’s much darker and barbaric than you would ever imagine. It’s a battle to the death or in The Grand Order’s words: “A Death Game for the Candidacy of Godhood.” In short, each member of The Grand Order scouts the country for the perfect delegate to represent their company in the Death Game. These selections usually arrive in the form of a formal letter, hand-written by the company head to the delegate in question. These letters, I assume, promise the delegate with riches, fame, immortality, restoration of a loved one suffering from an illness; you name it. Most delegates would accept without a second thought or hesitation, but then you have those who are skeptical, doubtful, or even flat-out reject it. If you think rejecting or stalling on an acceptance bid from a Grand Order member will work, you’re sorely mistaken. Once The Grand Order scouts you for the Death Game, you will participate, whether it’s by free will or by force.
Like I said previously, letters are the primary way of enlistment by The Grand Order; however, if you are scouted by one of the Magnum Decem (Great Ten), they will come to you personally to extend their acceptance bid. This is where I come into the mix. It was around two in the morning the other day after the last calls were announced. I wasn’t doing the greatest that night. I was overworked to the bone, then to top it all off like a nice, little cherry, my so-called “loving boyfriend” cheats on me. When I confronted him about it, he ended up assaulting me, leaving like a coward after the hits were delivered. Nevertheless, I will admit I was a little tipsy when I met the CEO of Plutronics Unlimited, the inventors of the first plutonium-powered smartphone, I might add. Again, please pardon my digression. After I left the bar, I was greeted by Mr. Riku Tanaka, CEO of Plutronics Unlimited, along with several of his associates. When hit with the acceptance bid, I thought it was a cruel prank from my ex to pour salt on my already-aching wounds to make me suffer more, so naturally, I rejected the offer. That’s when I realized this was no joke. Mr. Tanaka, along with the associates suddenly pulled out their pistols stating they wouldn’t take “no” for an answer. But assured me they would explain the situation in its entirety in exchange for my cooperation. What choice did I have but to comply? I mean they had lead lined up with my chest!
So, the next thing I remember was sitting in a spacious limousine with Mr. Tanaka across from me; an associate positioned to both our left and right respectively. For someone that was treated like a criminal not even ten minutes ago, they sure were acting weird toward me. No handcuffs, no restraints, no unnecessary force, they didn’t even lock the doors to the limo. Instead, they gave me green tea with a lemon alongside a sandwich that I can’t even remember its contents. At the time, I didn’t know why they were treating me in such a regal manner, I mean the lax security precautions indicated their confidence in my complacency and that I wouldn’t attempt to escape. I remember asking multiple times for the CEO to explain the situation to me, but Mr. Tanaka simply and calmly said he wouldn’t disclose any information until I was sober and in the right state of mind. No matter how many times I asked or how loud I got, he always replied in the same calm demeanor. As I started to sober up, the weight and meaning of his words started to resonate within me. I decided with what little reason I had left that he was right and acknowledged I wasn’t ready to understand the full situation. As my sobriety returned to me little by little, I was getting drowsier every waking minute. My memory gets hazy around this part, but I remember losing my equilibrium which resulted in me falling onto the associate to my right. I can’t recall the reaction, but I do know they didn’t move. Maybe they didn’t care, or maybe they did, but I should at least be courteous and thank them for allowing me to get some rest the next time I see them.
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The sound of the limo’s alarm vibrating in my ears woke me up from my brief nap. As we all exited out of the left side of the vehicle, I was then escorted along with Mr. Tanaka into a prominent high-rise. Shortly after, I found out that it was the corporate building for Plutronics Unlimited. My only critique was Mr. Tanaka’s office in general. Not only did it take an eternity to arrive by elevator, but to no one’s surprise, it looked almost identical to an evil CEO’s office commonly found in anime or manga. At that point, I still put all of my money on Mr. Tanaka being a twist villain.
Instead of sitting down at his desk, the young CEO motioned me over to a couple of ornate chairs with a furnished, wood table. As I sat down, he poured out two glasses of imported bourbon, giving one to me, and toasting to our future partnership. After he made the toast, I drank the rich liquor in its entirety, adding insult to injury regarding my already painful hangover. Although I just gulped down another drink, Mr. Tanaka decided I was sober enough to explain this acceptance bid and the competition I would soon compete in. Before he started, he warned me that certain details regarding the competition would be omitted due to its sensitive and classified contents, or else risk “instant elimination” for the both of us as well as incur excessive penalties and fines to his company. He apologized fervently to which I simply replied that it was all right.
After his disclaimer, Mr. Tanaka started to explain to me the situation I have now found myself in. I’ve already told you the backstory of who really controls the country, the Death Game associated with it, as well as The Spiral, but what I haven’t told you was how the Death Game works. Mr. Tanaka explained that it would be a sudden death tournament. If one of the contenders surrenders, is incapacitated, or is killed, then they are eliminated from the tournament. He also mentioned that if I want to be merciful then I should aim to kill. When I asked why, he grimly remarked that it was classified and that I would have to learn during the tournament. The last bit of information I was given was that I would have to enter a name I would wish to be addressed by for the duration of the tournament, in other words, my God name. Even though I could’ve just entered “Victoria Lee,” it just didn’t have that zing or fleek to it. Therefore, I decided to put down the name of my vampire alter ego: Lady Mercedes Vida. Yes, I have an alter ego, and if you think it’s cringe and say you didn’t have one growing up, you’re either lying to yourself or you’re not even living a life.
Just when I thought I had no other questions to ask, something came to mind:
“Besides control of the country, what are the other incentives to winning this Death Game?”
Once again, as expected, the mild-mannered businessman reminded me of the oath he took but tried to assure me that he wasn’t the enemy and wouldn’t betray me in any way. Again, another screaming red flag that this dude will backstab me by Chapter 20. The only thing I can do for the time being is to trust him. He hasn’t killed me yet, at least. After giving me the rundown, he said that it would be best for me to rest, just in case the tournament started immediately after registration. I questioned him about whether he knew the structure of registration, to which he replied with a “no.” I guess this is the first tournament where Plutronics Unlimited is in The Grand Order, another red flag if you ask me. Regardless, he ordered an associate of his to guide me to a spare bedroom within the building where I would spend the rest of the night.
After thanking the associate for guiding me, all I wanted to do was collapse on that bed and pass out. As things started to fade in and out, I wondered if all of this was merely a dream. Maybe I was roofied at the bar, or maybe I decided to take psychedelics and totally forgot about it. Whatever it was, the only thing I knew was that my body was heavy with fatigue and my head was hurting from the splitting hangover headache. The last thing I remember before passing out was wondering: why was I chosen to be a delegate for the candidacy of Godhood just to participate in an underworld Death Game for a company that’s a part of a massive secret society that seeks to control the entire country from within the shadows? Why me? Why…me?
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