Even Jigsaw had to admit that, despite being a shameless pervert, Tristan had never lied about his abilities. He always delivered on what he promised, no matter how outrageous it sounded.
However, could having sex with him really cure drug addiction and make women younger?
Jigsaw began to question the authenticity of Tristan's claims.
Still, whether it was possible or not didn't really matter anymore. He had already agreed to support Tristan in getting Amanda, and there was no turning back now. He could only sigh, resigning himself to the situation. After all, Tristan hadn't lied so far, vulgar as his speech might be.
Those who know the situation are heroes, and Jigsaw had no interest in becoming the villain when faced with someone like Tristan.
"Amanda, as unbelievable as it sounds, if Tristan says he can cure you, then he can. My cancer—gone. And... yes, my ex-wife is now his lover."
".…"
The room fell into a heavy silence.
No matter how much Amanda distrusted Tristan, Jigsaw's words of confirmation, whom she trusted deeply—coupled with the hypnotic influence of Tristan's Essence of Earnest Grace—made her reconsider.
Her gaze shifted toward Tristan, filled with a mix of curiosity and wariness. There was something undeniably mysterious about this guy, but at the same time, it was hard to overlook how unapologetically perverted he was.
On the other hand, noticing the subtle change in Amanda's expression, Tristan smirked inwardly.
He knew she had credited Jigsaw with "saving" her and giving her a second chance at life. That was a clear indication she wanted to quit drugs and make a fresh start.
Considering that, Tristan remained calm.
Furthermore, this was only the foundation he laid for what he would do later. His plan was progressing smoothly, and there was no need to rush.
So he simply shrugged nonchalantly.
"Alright, whatever you decide. I'm just offering. If you need anything, you can come to me. I'll help you... and let you experience this 'treatment'."
Then, without waiting for Amanda's response, Tristan turned to Jigsaw, pointing at the monitor screen.
"Now, can we start the game? I'm really curious to see what happens to these people."
On the screen there were many people, but six figures among them had the word "Reincarnator" floating above their heads. As Tristan had expected, these people really came to participate in the game.
Naturally, Tristan was the only one who could see their identities above their heads. Although he wasn't certain if these reincarnators could sense something similar to him, he knew it was best to remain cautious.
Not long later, Amanda, now fully changed into a different set of clothes, stepped forward.
"I'll personally participate in this!"
In the movie, she participated in the game to protect Daniel Matthews and serve as a guide for those playing for the first time. This time her only goal was the same, except that she didn't have to save anyone.
Shortly after her departure, the game began, dragging the six reincarnators—now ordinary people in this world—into this dangerous mission.
Their mission: survive the game. If they succeeded, they'd earn points and return to the Land of Death, resuming their extravagant lives. But if they failed, Jigsaw's game promised only one outcome—a gruesome, tragic death.
Among the people on the screen, the first to wake was a big man, groggy and disoriented as he looked at the closed room around him and started to curse immediately.
"Where the hell is this? Damn, what the fuck is going on?"
Soon, the others began to wake as well, including the six reincarnators—five men and one woman. The woman dressed proactively, and her skin was covered in tattoos and heavy makeup, giving her a vulgar look. She was clearly a whore exploited by countless men.
Tristan glanced at her with nothing but cold indifference.
Women like her never interested him. He preferred more refined conquests—virgins, or even some decent MILFs, as he called them.
As for a prostitute? No thanks. Whores had always disgusted him to no end.
Amid the confusion, someone pointed at Amanda.
"Hey, aren't you that woman from TV?"
Amanda, playing her part, feigned panic. She clutched her head, pretending to be in pain.
"I-I don't know how I ended up back here again!"
Before she could say anything more, the man who had woken first—tall and muscular—strode over and slapped her hard across the face.
"Shut the fuck up! Tell me where we are!" He barked in rage.
Amanda's eyes flashed with resentment, but she kept her composure, choosing her words carefully.
"If I'm not mistaken... this is Jigsaw's territory—the place where people are forced to play his death games. I... I tried to kill myself at home because I didn't have money for drugs, but I was sent to the hospital and revived. I escaped once... so why am I back here again?!"
Her words caused a panic among the group.
The name Jigsaw was enough to make anyone tremble. He was also known as the Jigsaw Killer, notorious for carving a puzzle-shaped piece of flesh from each of his victims as a twisted memento.
"Oh, shit. This is a fucking death game! We're screwed! Get us the fuck out of here!" Amanda screamed in desperation. She rushed to the nearest window, pounding on the glass with all her strength, but it was futile. Eventually, she collapsed to the ground, cradling her head in her hands, overwhelmed by fear.
The rest of the group exchanged nervous glances, unsure of what to do. The two other women, visibly terrified, huddled together, crying helplessly.
That was when Xavier, the muscular man with a cruel expression, stormed toward Amanda again.
"You've been through one of Jigsaw's games before. You must know something!"
"R-record!" she stammered.
"That's right! His games always leave a recording with hints. We just need to find the recorder and follow the rules to complete the game!"
Xavier, still holding her by the throat, shoved her roughly to the side. "Then what the hell are you waiting for? Find the damn recorder!" he shouted at the rest of the group.
Realizing their only hope for survival was to complete the game, the reincarnators joined in. They now understood one grim truth: survival meant following the rules, and the game wasn't going to give them any leeway.
It didn't take long for them to discover a hidden compartment behind a mural. Inside, just as Amanda had predicted, was a tape recorder.
Click!
=======================
Greetings, and welcome.I trust you all know where you are. Three hours from now, the door to this house will open.
Unfortunately, you only have two hours to live. Right now, you're breathing in a deadly nerve agent. You've been inhaling it since you arrived.
Only by finding the antidotes can you survive and leave that door. Several are hidden throughout the house. You all possess the combination to the safe—think carefully. The numbers are buried deep in your minds.
The clue to their order is found "over the rainbow." Once you figure out what you all have in common, you'll understand why you're here.
X marks the spot for the key to your survival. Fail, and you'll take your last breath in this house.
Most of you are ungrateful for the lives you've been given. If you wish to survive, you'll need to prove your worth. If not... well, there are others who will gladly take your place.
Let the game begin.
========================
Jigsaw's voice echoed from the recorder, eerie and unsettling.
"Fuck! What kind of shitty game is this?" Xavier's frustration boiled over as he scanned the room. His eyes locked on a door, and without hesitation, he stomped over, hoping it might be a way out.
Meanwhile, the six reincarnators moved cautiously, each on edge, distrustful of the situation and of one another, all while searching for any potential clues or exit.
In the monitoring room, Tristan observed the scene unfold. Everything was playing out almost identically to the movie—just more chaotic and predictable.
But the more he watched, the more his excitement to see those reincarnators suffer waned, and boredom crept in. His attention began to drift, and then his gaze fell on Amanda.
An idea clicked in his head, and he suddenly wanted to attack her.
Without warning, Tristan grabbed his crotch and shouted, "Oh no, here it comes again... looks like my sex addiction's kicking in."
Startled by the sudden outburst, Jigsaw turned around, furrowing his brows at the sight of Tristan's antics.
"You really are a sex addict. Didn't you just come from Betsy's?"
"Hey, what do you know? You think I was lying when I said I had a sex addiction? Curing it takes time, my friend. Even though Betsy did her best the whole night, she wasn't strong enough—she passed out before I was even close to satisfied. So, naturally, I had to leave... unfulfilled."
As Tristan casually recounted his affair with Jigsaw's ex-wife, Jigsaw instantly regretted bringing up the topic. He tried to push the memory away, but Tristan had a way of twisting the knife, reminding him again and again, as if savoring Jigsaw's discomfort.
Soon, after hearing Tristan's words, Jigsaw's thoughts wandered against his will, picturing his ex-wife, exhausted and unconscious after Tristan had his way with her.
"Blergh!"
His stomach churned, and he almost vomited, feeling a sickening wave of nausea. He suddenly wanted to desperately get rid of this guy, Tristan.
So he asked directly, determined to quickly end the conversation and send him away.
"What do you want?"
"Straight to the point, as always. You're a smart man, Jigsaw," Tristan replied, flashing a smug grin. "I want to capture someone for some... personal therapy. What do you think of Amanda?"
"I already helped you with Amanda and promised not to interfere. You can do whatever you want."
"Good, good," Tristan said, nodding. "Now, be a good friend and open the secret door. Signal Amanda to come there. I want to help her cure her addiction sooner rather than later. If she stays in this game, she'll only end up hurting herself."
'Pervert. You just want to fuck her,' Jigsaw cursed internally, but outwardly he kept his composure. He quickly went to work on opening the door.
Nothing mattered more to Jigsaw at this moment than getting rid of this dark star.
After all, his cancer might not have killed him, but he knew that another hour with Tristan might really kill him—if not from disgust, then from sheer frustration.
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