"So what do you think?" The familiar voice littered a room defined by madness. A space with walls that cannot be perceived, but their presence remained all too obvious.
"I see, he may show more promise than I first expected—" Said another familiar voice. They spoke with care, each word filled with gravitas and authority.
"Don't count my pick out just yet!" squealed a higher-pitched voice. It was similar to that of a child. "This game is far from over!"
"That is true; however, a lot of participants have been cleared already. The game started with over ten thousand players, but dwindled to a measly seven thousand, and there are a few players to look out for—" The authoritative voice spoke. The room fell silent once their arm stretched outwards.
The room shifted around them, showing them the game below. On the screen was the maiden from before, her long black hair draped behind her with her red robe. She looked like a hero from another world, but her gaze was cold and pragmatic.
"Viel Ravenheart, a royal from Ravendelle, is pragmatic and easily has the most kills in the group."
The screen shifted to another, his white hair standing out almost instantly. He looked more put together; his clothes were more modern. Looking like a normal Japanese student. His gaze was half-lidded, golden, and uninterested. His hands are stuffed in his pockets, clad in black gloves.
"Mirai Takamura, a single child from an alternate universe in Japan. A prodigy in both academics and physical examination, his praises were sung by every adult around him."
Their attention shifted to one final member. She skipped joyfully through the forest without a care in the world. Her pink hair bounced with her frilled dress at each skip. Her clothing was adorned in silver and copper mechanisms. Goggles secured tightly around her scalp.
"Adeline Fleur. A girl of high spirits, aside from her technical knowledge in steampunk, she's as dumb as a bag of nails. Though she shows the most promise in this game."
"All together they've amassed a kill count of fifteen hundred. They may win this game in a landslide victory."
"And kill that dumb kid while they're at it!" The tiny voice squeaked, though a soft hum came from the other.
"Not quite; his blessing is not like the others—though how good it is depends on how he uses it and if he realizes what he has before it's too late."
"Huh?! You mean one of those brats the jester found? Shoya?!"
"But saying he'll win is still a stretch."
"Only time will tell."
"Still, do you really believe that giving them all random bits of info on the game's rules is the brightest idea?" Someone spoke up in the group of gods; their voice was more calm and gentle. A voice only gained from constant deep thought.
The central figure didn't turn.
"Efficiency breeds predictability. We are not selecting a tool; we are observing the birth of a sovereign. If they can't adapt to information we didn't feed them, then they're no god."
A contemplative silence followed. "I suppose that's true," the calm voice conceded, though a note of pity lingered.
***
I killed a man…
The feeling kept digging into his gut. The feeling of the killer's cold blood still resting between his digits. His kitchen knife was still riddled with dried blood from the night before.
I killed a man…
His steps were mindless; he had no idea if he was going in the right direction or not. In his hand was a makeshift cloth wrapped around all the food he could've carried back with him from the cabin.
With my own hands he—
The boy couldn't make heads or tails of anything; he felt numb. The dagger he stole from that corpse hung loosely between his fingers, the tip dangling through the gaps.
He died…
He stopped, his neck craned to the forest top. Leaves continued to dance above him, the skyline blocked out by the shrubs. He had no idea where he was or where he was going. He walked for days and still has yet to reach the tower.
I couldn't take supplies from that guy—the moment he died, all of his stuff disappeared. All I got was this weird dagger. What's up with that?
I managed to get my phone and supplies back from the cabin, at least…
That bastard gamemaster! He didn't say any of this in the rules! What's his deal with withholding information like that, huh?! Not only that—that killer knew he could hunt with the collar beeping before I did! Is he playing favorites!?
Now that I think about it, did he even know that the passive beeping of a collar stops when the dome is broken?
By the looks of him too—he seems like the average grunt rogue who often gets way over their own head! If I struggle against the minimum, a character archetype like that then—!
Just the thought of it caused his stomach to turn, the boy falling to his knees in the middle of the forest.
Where is this tower anyway—I've been out here at least a month now! It's starting to get cold…
"Hey—" A voice called out to thee, wallowing pauper; it was a soft yet curt voice. Fugi's eyes raised to see Mirai Takumura standing over him. His gaze was downcast in disgust at the pitiful display. "You're in the way; move it."
"Wait a sec…" Fugi muttered under his breath once he saw the lad before him. "I know that uniform…"
The boy shot up to his feet, hands finding purchase on the boy's shoulders.
"You're from Aoda Middle School, aren't you?! What's a kid like you doing here? in a game like this!?"
Mirai stared distantly at the hands that held him in place. His gaze slowly panned up to Fugi, who continued to babble on and on.
"Well, you're going this way, right? Does that mean that's where the tower is?! Am I almost there? What did the gamemaster tell you?!"
"Let go of me…"
"H-huh?"
Mirai didn't waste another second. He pulled his arm out of his pocket and peeled back the glove that encased his arm. He carried the laziness of someone reaching for a flyswatter, a nuisance. Fugi shot back, his hands recoiling as fast as they were placed.
"H-hey, hang on a second…."
"I just want to know where the tower is—!"
Mirai stopped midway, the glove naturally falling back on his palm. Fugi lets out a sigh of relief; he has no idea what kind of powers this kid has, and he doesn't intend to find out at all.
"You're not ready to go to the tower." He stepped forward until his face was inches away from the pauper's chest, his eyes seemingly just looking right through him. "Move, I won't ask you again—"
Fugi stumbled out of the way, watching as the boy made his way to the tower. He felt a sudden chill run down his spine. He didnt know what happened but he knew he narrowly avoided death—
"And a word of advice," the boy stopped. His head turned slightly behind him, just to get his voice across. "Don't ever touch me again—"
He continued his path through the forest.
So that's the kind of people that are in this game…
"Even kids got it better than me here, huh?" He chuckled, though his brow furrowed with a pained look on his face.
He said I'm not ready—what should I even do now? Turn back? What can I possibly do with that?!
Whatever god is watching, kill me now—
Nighttime befalls the lowly pauper, the poor urchin wallowing in his self-pity for hours in the middle of the forest. Only to be brought out of his semiconscious haze by a bright light that would ignite beyond the forest.
It was almost blinding, a sudden gush of dust clouds brushing through the forest's shrubs.
"What was that?!" he exclaimed over the noise, with only one thought in mind now. Curious, though hesitant. He stepped forward, making his way to the clearing. His eyes widened as the blue ethereal glow came more within view.
It was like a tower from an alien world, a cylinder made of geometric shapes and glowing paths carved into it.
BEEP
His collar went off.
[Player 8999 Added!]
[1/21]
Wait—what?
An automated voice echoed throughout the forest, broadcasting it to everyone nearby.
"Woah, a dungeon! My luck hasn't run out after all!" A boy about Fugi's age stepped out of the forest, standing right next to him. The pauper stared at the boy, cautious, but he didn't seem like he had any intent to harm.
[Player 407 Added!]
[2/21]
"Hm? Yo!" the boy waved casually to Fugi once he caught his eye. His hair was a light blue, the back tied back with a band that had clearly seen better days, carrying a sigil that was impossible to make out at the time.
His clothes were just as foreign. A blade strapped to his hip while wearing the armor of a lowly fighter.
"H—hey—" Fugi muttered, shoulders stiff.
"I suggest not talking to him much." Another voice came out of the woods, standing on the far end. This one was a girl; her long brown hair flowed behind her with each confident step. She carried the aura of a prodigy behind her.
[Player 505 Added!]
[3/21]
"E-excuse me but—" Fugi mumbled, his words diluted between his lips. "Is this—the tower we're looking for?"
His question hung in the air, the other players sealing their tongues. Eventually, more and more players began to show.
[21 players are accounted for; the challenge will begin shortly!]
Not too long after, the door to the dungeon opened.
[Please step inside.]
Fugi watched as everyone entered without a second thought until he was the only one that stood beyond the boundary. It felt like the air stood still, an ominous hum vibrating around the dungeon.
Though hesitant, he stepped forward. The door shut behind him, leaving everyone in darkness soon to be illuminated in bright blue lights.
It's way bigger than I imagined—