Ishiki ran over from one roof to another... the cold bit into his face making his cheeks red. Suddenly though he stopped and froze, standing atop a townhouse.
The calculations that he did moments ago were still running in his mind and It was a mathematical impossibility. A paradox wrapped in a lie.
His mind raced, pulling at threads he had ignored for months.
Earlie, When he counted he number of players... he simply looked at the number of the people saved by the outer regiment from beyond the walls. And the people who had been here before him were the hardest to track.
But... he had actually managed to differ them because of their unique behavior.
'But now...' Ishiki looked down at the street where a group of late-night revelers were passing a bottle of wine. 'Now, everyone feels the same.'
Was it assimilation? or it was that the players had simply adapted to their surroundings? It was the biggest gift of human kind, the adaptability they showed was not a joke.
