While most of the Campers picked at their food, sipped from their cups, and discussed quietly with furrowed brows, a few could not stop eating. A row of feral beast statues lined the walls on the other end of the banquet hall from Eldon’s table. Despite being of a different form, each one gave a similar feeling of evil and wickedness, causing the Campers to stay away from them. Their eyes glowed with a wicked light, and an intangible aura seemed to hang about their stone frames. Their polished claws glinted in the light that shone from the fluorescent wiggling symbols on the walls, and coupled with the savage expressions on their faces, they looked like they could come to life and commence a massacre at any moment.

The tables near the beast statues were mostly empty except for one nearest the beasts, where two men sat. The Campers in the vicinity stared at them and could not decide which was scarier, the two men or the feral beast statues.

A chuckle. “The way you eat is so adorable. Nom nom nom... It’s not going to disappear, you know?”

One of them was a slim man with beautiful features. His face and ears were marked with piercings. His glittering red lips were curved into a seductive smile, causing the observing Campers to shift awkwardly in their seats and turn away. He gently fanned himself as he observed his companion with slanted eyes.

“Nom nom nom nom... Gulp... Nom nom nom...chomp chomp chomp chomp...gulp... Nom nom nom...”

His companion—more a mountain of flesh than a man—ignored him, throwing massive chunks of meat as large as his head into his mouth, bones, plates, and all. His nostrils, barely visible under all the fat, quivered with each labored breath, as did the entire mountain of fat every time he moved. His arms were as large as his slim companion’s girth, and as they swept up every scrap of food on the table into the bottomless hole that was his mouth, the nearby Campers lost what little urge to eat they had.

The slim man lightly chuckled again and looked around. The fan in his hand went up and down, gently fanning him as his slanted eyes roved round and round, pausing on some Campers and skipping past some others.

This went on for minutes until this table was cleared of food and, in fact, even of cutlery.

“Gulp... More...” The mountain licked his lips. “I want more.” His uneven eyes scanned the area before locking onto a nearby table where eight Campers sat. “Morrrreeeeeeeeee...”

The empty table was overturned as the mountain struggled to his shapeless legs and hobbled towards the group. His companion sighed and followed him.

The Campers had been watching for them, so they followed suit as soon as the duo stood up. They would have escaped, too, if it weren’t because of the sultry voice that enveloped them the next moment.

“Why don’t you boys wait and play?”

Every one of them froze in place. They could only stand and listen to the giant's heavy footsteps, which were getting closer and closer. Even those watching from further away had sweat dripping from their brows. Quietly, they put more space between themselves and the unfortunate group.

One of the men, frozen in place, gritted his teeth. Slowly, he turned around to face the duo. Gathering his confidence, he raised a quivering finger.

“W-W-What d-do you want? I-I-I’m telling you! I’m a B-B-B-B-rank w-w-who has n-no qualms k-k-k—”

The brave man felt his vision blur and a wetness around his finger. A piercing pain and a certain odd emptiness gnawed at his consciousness.

The mountain chomped twice and swallowed. His gaze brightened.

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“Should I eat him?” The mountain spoke in a deep, trembling voice as he looked at the brave man. “Tasty... Tasty...”

The brave man felt like he had been drenched in cold water. He didn’t even have time to mourn—or even fully comprehend—the loss of his finger, yet he was already at risk of losing his head.

Indeed. His head was presently wrapped in a slobbery wetness. A stench beyond what he could express filled his nostrils. A slimy tongue slithered over his face. What was that sharp object poking his neck?...

“Vaughn. Stop it.”

The tongue stopped moving. A moment later, the wetness retreated, leaving slimy saliva smeared all over his face and dripping from his hair. The brave man stood in shock, uncomprehending.

“Hey, are you okay?” The pleasant voice came from directly before him. When he failed to respond, it chastised, “Now look what you’ve done, Vaughn. He was to be an important member of our team. What am I to do... ?”

There was a pause, during which the sounds of dripping spit hitting the ground, as well as the munching of the ravenous hunk of flesh, were the only sounds. The other seven Campers were quiet as statues, not daring to breathe.

The slim man’s voice came again. “You, you, you, you... And you. Get over here.” Laughter. “Quickly!”

There was the pitter-patter of hastily approaching footsteps. The brave man wanted to react, speak, move, do something, but he could only stand there blankly, unable to muster enough will to do anything.

“One, two, three... Including Vaughn and myself, that’s eight.” Giggling. “Hey, Vaughn, are you done? I can’t see any strong people from here. Let’s walk around. Maybe I’ll see a few...”

Grunting and snorting from the mountain. “Tasty... Tasty... I want to eat them...”

“Not now, Vaughn. Not now. Keep close, new team members. Don’t get snatched away!” Laughter.

Table overturned. Heavy footsteps drowned that of the rest of the group as they walked away. The brave man stood there, staring into space, saliva rolling down his face.

Among the various strong Campers with broad shoulders, hard expressions, and bloody auras, an average person only stood out more. Coin was of average height, looks, and build. His feet barely grazed the ground from where he sat, and none of the Campers around gave him two glances. His short black hair would not have stood out either had it not been highlighted by the black headband around his forehead. The little bone motifs signified that it was a strip of cloth from the Bone-embroidered robes.

Coin tapped his fingers on the hardwood table in a rhythmic motion. Tap tap tap... Tap... Tap tap tap... Tap tap...

His eyes were fixed on the blood-stained stage, which was now empty. The wounded Camper had vanished at an unknown time, but Coin wasn’t bothered by that. The Camper had served his purpose. Coin no longer had any need for him.

He tapped the wood, and he tapped his chin. Strong... Very strong... President Richard Thompson...

The tapping stopped. The Campers who were silently conversing nearby stopped. Coin cracked his neck both ways, feeling the tension drain from his body. He got to his feet, stretched, and walked away. The Campers’ eyes followed him as he left.

Coin wandered through the banquet hall, his steps steady and measured. As he walked, his black eyes swiveled left and right.

Not worthy... Not worthy... Not worthy...

None of them are worthy. Unnecessary baggage. Narrow reasoning. Foggy minds. Unclear goals.

Can’t see their way forward. Weak. Pathetic.

Coin’s blank expression shifted. He turned. His gaze found a white-haired young man sipping wine from a goblet. The white-haired young man refilled the crimson goblet but stopped midway through the action. He glanced backward. He met Coin’s eyes.

He looked at Coin. Coin looked back. Seconds passed. He turned away slowly and gulped down his wine. Coin walked up to him and settled down beside him. The young man refilled his cup again and lifted it to his lips.

He’s jittery, Coin noted. The white-haired young man had a pale face and sharp features. His hair was unruly, as were many Campers’. He was calm enough, but the ripples that danced on the surface of the crimson liquid betrayed his emotions.

Weighted by baggage. Little baggage, but baggage nonetheless.

When the young man could no longer endure Coin’s stare, he slammed the goblet on the table and faced him angrily.

“What do you want?” He yelled, but somehow, there was no weight in them. His pale face was scrunched in anger, but his eyes could not hide his fear.

Emotions? Coin looked closer. No. A pathetic test. Checking if I’m worthy.

Coin held the young man’s gaze, then opened his mouth.

“Your name. What is it?” A plain voice, devoid of embellishment.

“Kial.” The young man’s eyes widened. Just a little, but not minute enough to escape Coin’s observation. He did not intend to speak, but his consent was unnecessary.

“Kial. You are strong. Join my team.” Coin looked into the boy’s eyes. “Become a demon under Coin.”