1:30 PM
"Ouch, that hurts!"
"Just a little more, Manabu-kun," says Miyu as she applies bandages to his face.
I cannot even put into words how terrible the outcome was. We were truly massacred.
We lost nearly our entire contingent in this failed assault. Manabu and Haruki were the only survivors apart from Mikoto and me, and even they are in a deplorable state.
I feel somewhat responsible for not being able to defeat Ailiss, making it seem like everything was in vain. I don't know if Mikoto feels the same way, but her face also carries a somber expression.
"At the very least, you could have mentioned you knew karate," I attempt to distract her.
"As I told her, I am rusty. I did not think it was something we could count on as an advantage. Well, at least that is what I believed," she replies.
"It didn't seem that way—you saved me twice. I wish I were as 'rusty' as you."
"That is the point. Strangely, my reflexes, which should have been sluggish, were faster than ever. I moved in ways even I had never experienced before, yet it felt entirely natural to my body. Well, I suppose I should not be surprised by anything unusual within this reality."
"Could it be that your instincts somehow became more acute due to supernatural interference?"
"Hmm… I do not think that is the case," she says, looking at me.
"Do you have a more plausible explanation?"
"Of course, the only rational explanation just came to mind. Clearly, I must have become momentarily stronger to save my beloved. Do you not think?" she smiles teasingly.
Embarrassed, I avert my gaze.
Even now, in a situation where all our lives are at risk, she doesn't miss the opportunity to tease me. I should already be used to this.
However, when I discreetly glance back at her, I notice that her smile has disappeared. I started the conversation to cheer her up—perhaps she was doing the same for me.
I turn my attention to Natsuki, who has been crying non-stop since we returned from the hideout, lamenting that she couldn't do anything.
"Calm down, see, I'm fine. There are injuries I'd rather not have, but I survived," Haruki says, despite being absurdly injured, trying to comfort her.
Barely, though. He was nearly beaten to death.
"I'm not crying because of that! I'm crying out of RAGE! I'M GOING TO KILL THAT MONSTER! Next time, I want to go TOO!" Natsuki starts shouting hysterically.
I must confess I never imagined such a fragile-looking girl would scream like that. Even Haruki seems shocked by her reaction. Perhaps she just needs a dose of reality.
"She's armed with a machine gun. You'll end up just like the others. How do you plan to get close to her?" I ask.
"I DON'T CARE! SHE COULD HAVE A NUCLEAR BOMB, AND I'D STILL KILL HER! NOTHING WILL STOP ME!"
I sigh.
There's no point trying to reason with her right now—she's not being rational. She's acting like a small dog barking from behind a protective gate. However, when the time comes to face the danger directly, she'll have to reevaluate her stance.
I feel something gently intertwine with my fingers—it's Mikoto's hand. I look at her and notice she still has a troubled expression.
"Look, we are in a complicated situation. How can we ask them to help us?" Mikoto whispers, gesturing toward Manabu and Miyu.
I observe the situation Mikoto is referring to.
"Manabu-kun, don't ever get involved in something like this again. You almost gave me a heart attack," Miyu says, holding back tears as she embraces Manabu.
"All right, all right. Miyucchi, you're suffocating me," he replies.
I understand entirely what Mikoto means. In the end, everyone involved in this ended up dead or severely injured. If we don't want to carry this guilt any longer, our final confrontation is something Mikoto and I may have to resolve on our own.
"It's not over yet," I say, returning her grip.
4:18 PM
We spent the rest of the afternoon recovering from the failure of our assault on Ailiss. Mikoto is now inclined to try to resolve everything on our own, though deep down, she must know better than anyone that we stand no chance that way.
Perhaps the most sensible approach would be for me to recruit more allies and prepare an even larger attack tomorrow. After all, it will be our final day—there's no more time to waste. No more failures can be tolerated.
But that's not what this brilliant mind has decided to do. Instead, I choose to follow this uncontrollable urge to speak with Ailiss because I feel some things need to be clarified between us. To my deluded brain, perhaps everything is still just a misunderstanding. Despite all the evidence to the contrary, my emotions refuse to accept this conclusion.
Thus, as irresponsible as this may seem, I again enter Ailiss's lair.
"So, the lovebirds didn't come together? I'm quite surprised," Ailiss comments as she notices my presence.
I see her seated cross-legged on a table discarded in the storage room.
"I would like to discuss something with you in private. There are still some things that don't make sense to me," I reply.
"Quite brave of you but also very foolish. Tell me, what's stopping me from shooting your limbs and confining you until the end of the game? You're completely defenseless."
Obviously, nothing. I knew the risks when I decided to meet her. Yet, my legs brought me here anyway. And I know this impulse may be nothing more than manipulating my mind through black magic.
However, looking at her face, I refuse to believe in those theories.
"Maybe a little empathy?"
"Empathy from me?" she furrows her brow. "I might laugh at that joke if I weren't in such a bad mood."
"It's worth a try. In any case, why didn't you do it from the start? You could have killed me the moment I entered here, but you didn't. Instead, you chose to start a conversation with me. Besides, you monopolize the weapons here. You could have defeated us all on the first day."
Come on, show me that this is just a facade, whatever the reason. You're not the character you're trying to portray.
"If I were truly participating in this game, it wouldn't be fun. Everyone would be in a sea of blood within minutes, and it wouldn't be entertaining if it ended quickly," she says, crossing her arms and glaring at me.
Fun? This explanation again? I'm sorry, but I can't buy it. The problem isn't the explanation itself—hunting purely for recreation is not unheard of. However, I feel like you'd be laughing or displaying more explicit signs of joy while killing. Instead, you appear indifferent, as if it's something you must do—an obligation.
"As I see it, you don't seem to be having fun at all."
"Hey, Mistkerl… What did you expect to gain by coming here alone? Did you think for a second that you could guilt me into joining your side?" she sighs and rests her face in one hand.
Whenever I hear that not-so-endearing nickname, a strange sensation overwhelms my brain. A powerful déjà vu scrambles my thoughts.
I compose myself and respond.
"I don't know. My instincts have an opinion of you completely different from what has been demonstrated so far. I'd like to understand why things don't seem to make any sense. I feel like you're someone I've known for a long time, and I want to confirm that."
"Do you still not understand that I don't like jokes?" she narrows her eyes. "You're just spouting nonsense. Are you sure you didn't hit your head somewhere? Perhaps this insanity started when I threw you against the wall earlier."
"I'm serious. Then explain to me—if you really are the one responsible for these anomalies. Normally, I should hate you after everything you've done. You beat my best friend in front of me, killed another, and even tried to kill me. Yet, when I think of you, all I can feel is affection. Your face feels like that of an old friend. Did we never meet in Germany? The sense that I know you couldn't be more real."
She furrows her brow, stands, and slowly walks toward me. She stops with her face inches from mine.
For an instant, I'm trapped in her captivating red eyes. In the next frame, I'm writhing in pain, collapsed at her feet.
Yes, she hit me. Her punch nearly knocked me out. This girl's fists must be made of tempered steel. If she'd put a bit more force into it, I'd have ended up with a fractured skull.
"Mistkerl, I won't repeat myself. You're completely insane. Maybe this punch will put your brain back in its place," she says, staring down at me.
She turns her back, walks away, and sits back on the table she usually occupies.
I wipe the blood from my face, the result of her punch. I stand and remain silent, looking at her. Then, still disoriented, I remember the first time I saw her through the school window.
"Ailiss, at least answer me this. Why were you looking at me back then? Did you want to tell me something?"
"Because you were an enemy. I always knew who the players were. I was simply checking who my targets were," she sighs. "Unfortunately, I overestimated my adversaries in this game."
Her words don't ring true to me. It's as if a thick, dark mask covers her face, preventing me from fully understanding our connection. Yet through the slits of her eyes, I catch glimpses of light, revealing that this sense of nostalgia isn't fictitious as she tries to portray.
"Could it be that you're acting this way because you're being forced? Did someone hire you, or did the organization you work for order you to act this way?"
As a professional assassin, it seems plausible to me that she might have been coerced into this job.
"You couldn't be more wrong. I've never acted with so much free will," she averts her eyes downward and briefly smiles. "Now, leave before I shoot you. My patience is running out. Only return when you're ready to fight and prove yourself as a player," she resumes her irritated gaze.
Realizing I won't get anything more from her except another punch, I give up.
"Very well. I suppose there's nothing more I can say to convince you otherwise," I leave the area, my doubts still unresolved.
This is so confusing. The way she answered just now made it seem like she was telling the truth. She's acting this way because she genuinely wants to…
Apparently, there's no other way. Our battle is inevitable.