The test in the room was still unfolding, and soon a reincarnator stumbled upon a key and a note.
[Don't use the key to open the door!]
"What's that?"
With quick instincts, the drug dealer, Xavier, immediately sensed something was off and snatched the key and note. After glancing at the warning, he scoffed, clearly unconvinced. He sneered and threw the key at a man in a suit.
"You—go open the door!"
The suited man hesitated but then picked up the key, eyeing the note briefly. He walked to the door, peered through the peephole, and twisted the key in the lock. Nothing seemed amiss at first glance—it made sense to use the key to unlock the door, and looking through the peephole could help him see if anything was lurking behind it.
But the next second, everything went wrong.
Bang!
The key turned, triggering a revolver mechanism rigged behind the door. The gun fired point-blank through the peephole, sending a bullet straight into the man's right eye.
Blood splattered across the room. His skull shattered with a sickening crunch, brains spilling onto the floor as his body crumpled.
The woman nearby shrieked in horror, while the six reincarnators stood frozen.
Such a gruesome spectacle made it clear to these reincarnators that this challenge wouldn't be easy. If only their abilities weren't sealed, they could've broken through the walls with their bare hands.
But trapped like this, they were helpless.
"Let's go out and find the antidote!"
Drug dealer Xavier was the first to open the door and go out. He tried to take the gun, but the gun was fixed, and it was obvious that there were no bullets left in it.
Outside, a corridor stretched out, connecting to other rooms. The group scattered, unwilling to stick together.
No one trusted anyone else—there was no way to tell who was really on their side.
At that moment, Amanda, who lingered behind, suddenly caught sight of a small red laser dot.
Realizing it was a signal for her, she hesitated. She didn't know what Jigsaw was calling her for.
She was taking pleasure in seeing how miserable the lives of these players were, giving them hope, and then watching as they instantly plunged to the bottom of the valley from the paradise of hope in horror, but now, for some reason, she was being called out of the game.
It made her feel a little resentful.
Nonetheless, she obeyed the orders and slipped through a hidden passage, leaving the others behind.
At the narrow end of the tunnel, Amanda slowed her pace as she saw a figure standing at the entrance to the monitoring room. It wasn't John Kramer—Jigsaw—who awaited her. This man was taller, broader.
It was Tristan.
Amanda paused for a moment, her brow furrowed.
'Why is he here?'
She was about to demand an answer, or at least ask him to step aside, but before she could get a word out, Tristan spoke first.
"I was asked to come see you," Tristan said, his gaze locking onto hers.
"There's been an emergency. I have to leave the country, and it'll be a few months before I can return. So Jigsaw told me to... treat you before I go."
"W-what?"
She stammered, instinctively stepping back, her voice shaking despite her attempt to stay composed.
"Treat me? Right now?"
"Amanda, Tristan is here to help you. Trust in the process."
This time, it was Jigsaw, not Tristan, who shouted from the monitoring room.
Even without Jigsaw's confirmation, Amanda had no doubts about Tristan's intentions—Jigsaw had acknowledged him from the start, and the effect of the Essence of Earnest Grace had solidified her faith in him.
But knowing something and acting on it were two entirely different things. Amanda's throat felt dry as she processed the situation.
Tristan wasn't lying—that much she was sure of.
But this... this was happening too fast, wasn't it? She had only met him today.
Sure, she wanted to be healed, to change, to shed her old life like dead skin. But the method Tristan was proposing—to have sex with him—left her feeling deeply conflicted.
"I-I need time."
She whispered in a barely audible voice.
"We don't have time," he responded sharply, stepping closer. "I have to leave soon, and given your situation, trust me—you'll be an entirely different person by the time I return."
She knew he was right, in a sense.
Becoming Jigsaw's apprentice, reveling in these brutal games, and continuing to be a drug addict would inevitably lead to her downfall. Sooner or later, due to the effects of these drugs, she would find herself in a mess too big to escape from.
There was no time to waste. If she wanted to be saved, it had to be now—before she lost even the desire to be cured.
What Amanda didn't realize was that this was exactly her fate in the SAW movie series.
Still, despite her understanding, everything felt wrong—too rushed, too intense.
She needed more time. But would Tristan give it to her?
He only had two days left in this world, and Amanda, a drug addict, wasn't a high-value target for him. She wasn't even his first choice, but because there were no better candidates and she was relatively clean, he decided that she would do.
Not to mention, he had read her profile, knew her weaknesses, and deep down, he just wanted to fuck her.
So, when he saw her silence and noticed that she wasn't outright rejecting him but rather expressing reluctance, hesitation, and inevitability—meaning that her acceptance was only a matter of time—he didn't wait any longer.
While she was lost in her thoughts, he stepped forward, moving casually, almost deceptively, until he was right behind her. Before she could react, he pressed her down on the table nearby, suppressing her with absolute strength.
"Don't blame me," he whispered in her ear as his hot breath brushed against her skin.
"This is the only way. You'll understand when it's over."
Instantly after that, he clamped a hand over her mouth, muffling any protest. With his other hand, he pulled down her pants, revealing a small butterfly tattoo on her buttocks.
"You're such a slut, you even have a tattoo on your ass? Seems like you're going to enjoy the process of curing your addiction."
A cold shiver ran down her spine as the air hit her exposed lower body.
Then she felt it—a hot, throbbing rod forcing its way into her pussy, filling her vagina to the brink. She hadn't even masturbated for a long time, and the sudden invasion sent a sharp pain through her, as if she were being torn apart from the inside.
His hand covered her muffled cries, but Amanda could peek out of the corner of her eye at the nearby monitor room. Her mentor, Jigsaw, was watching the surveillance feed.
Even though there were no cameras in the area she was in, the sounds—the creaks of the table, Tristan's voice—were extremely loud and obvious. Jigsaw knew exactly what was happening behind that door, and he made no effort to stop it.
As Tristan thrust into her, he let out a long breath, surprised at how tight Amanda's pussy was. For a drug addict, she was more than he expected. Fortunately, he lubricated his cock with his spit before inerting in her, which made the process easier.
Clap—Clap—Clap—Clap
The obscene sounds of flesh slapping against each other echoed through the space, and Amanda felt that the pain in her body had gradually disappeared, replaced by a strange, aching itch deep in her vagina, longing to be fucked.
She could feel the relentless thrusting, the sensation of being filled over and over.
"Mmm…Mhmm"
Despite her mouth being covered, the muffled moans escaped, turning into more sinful, primal sounds.
The constant high-speed friction and Amanda's growing arousal combined to create a slippery, wet mess where their bodies met.
Soon, the love juices from her pussy began to overflow down her thighs, indicating that Amanda's body had begun to surrender to pleasure despite the circumstances.
Each time Tristan pulled out, his cock was coated with the thick, translucent fluid, leaving only the tip teasing her entrance before he plunged back in. With each deep thrust, he spread her tender walls, stretching her pussy to its limit.
The cock's head pressed against a sensitive spot deep in her pussy, sending shivers down her spine as jolts of pleasure surged through her body.
Suddenly, Amanda's eyes rolled back as a wave of numb, tingling sensation washed over her, weakening her legs and dissolving what little resistance she had left.
Noticing this, Tristan let out a perverse laugh, and with a sudden burst of energy, he increased the intensity of his thrusts.
"Did you just climax? Looks like the treatment is starting to take effect! Hahaha."
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