3. Jamboree Ship (93rd Time) ── Act II

（０／18）

Things aren't going well, she thought.

This kind of thing had happened a few times before, starting with the incidents surrounding "The Wall of Thirty." That feeling of mismatched gears. That feeling of being cursed. That feeling of being hated by the entire world. Knowing that you are cornered, but your understanding can't catch up with why it's happening, leaving you with that feeling of having no choice but to be a mere bystander to the situation.

But despite all that, Yuki realized that no emotion was welling up inside her. There is no anger. No sadness. No impatience. No fear. Nothing at all—it was a complete blank. Why am I in this state of mind? Do I understand? I'm on the verge of dying, you know?

What in the world am I—

Leaping over the railing, Yuki saw the vast expanse of blue spreading out before her.

What the hell has happened to me?

（１／18）

Shiro furrowed her brows.

（２／18）

"Deck 13", the usual lounge.

Many players had gathered. Some were continuing to stand guard inside the ship, and some, like Maguma, were acting independently, but the rest were on standby here.

Among them was Shiro. She was leaning heavily against the armrest of a multi-seater sofa. Beside her, Maya was snuggled up close.

Shiro's expression was grim. It wasn't that she was in a bad mood. It wasn't that she was unwell. She was baffled. Why hasn't the game ended yet? She couldn't understand it.

Shiro looked at the clock in the lounge. It was already past 7:30 AM. An hour had passed since the fierce early morning battle. The post-battle cleanup was finished, and they had already counted the bodies of forty-seven members of the Killer faction. The remaining one, namely Yuki, had disappeared into the sea. Even though there was water below, diving from a height of several dozen meters meant the impact of the fall would undoubtedly be fatal. All forty-eight enemies were dead, and in such cases, measures for an early termination should have been taken. The original time limit seemed to have been a week, but no further developments could be expected, and there was no point in continuing the game.

However, there was no particular notification from the administration. Unable to wait any longer, they had tried contacting the accompanying ship themselves. They carried out the many whiteboards from the ship's conference rooms, lined them up on the upper deck, and sent a message in large letters: "We have annihilated them. Why doesn't it end?"

And then—

"Yo, Boss."

Walking toward them, Takami spoke up. It seemed he had returned from the upper deck.

"Got a reply from the admins."

"Saying what?" Shiro asked.

"Just, 'It has not ended yet'."

Shiro deepened the wrinkles between her brows even further.

"Why...?" she muttered.

"Maybe they're having trouble with the paperwork. I mean, the administration probably never expected it to be settled this early."

"I hope that's the case."

"Are you considering other possibilities? Namely... that Yuki is still alive?"

"No..."

Certainly, that would be the most natural conclusion, but—

"Anyway, did you even get a good look? When Yuki fell."

The one who threw those cross-examining words was Maya.

"I didn't see every single detail from start to finish, but I did see her disappear over the railing," Takami replied.

"So, you can't say for absolute certain that she fell."

"There were ripples that looked like it spreading across the ocean, too. Couldn't confirm her figure, though."

"Maybe just her gun or bag fell. She herself might have jumped onto a guest room balcony or something and gotten back inside the ship."

"Nah, that would be tough. That walkway juts out a bit more than the floor below. It acts as a roof for the guest room balconies. So if you jump from that railing, there's absolutely no foothold underneath, and just reaching out wouldn't get you to the ship. Recovering from that is impossible."

"I wonder about that."

"If you doubt me, why don't you go look for yourself? Maya-chan, you weren't there, right? You arrived late, after all."

Maya made a frustrated expression. Takami smirked unpleasantly.

"Could it be that we're misunderstanding something? Like the rules we got out of the prisoners were a lie, or the number of forty-eight people was wrong?"

"I can't completely deny it, but... it's hard to imagine. I took that possibility into consideration, so I confirmed it thoroughly before killing them. Besides, we caught three prisoners, and the rules and numbers told by all three were consistent. If they colluded beforehand and managed to stick to a lie without a single one breaking, then I applaud them."

"Hmm. Then maybe it's that. There's a second stage even they didn't know about. Next, some pirates on a galleon might show up, right? Sprouting cannons left and right from the hull of the ship, leading to an artillery battle."

Shiro didn't even feel like giving a serious reply. She just shook her head, dismissing it as "nonsense."

"It's truly irritating, but," she said.

"For now, let's proceed under the assumption that she is alive. She returned inside the ship by some means and is now lying in wait. We should begin a search immediately. ...Takami-san, please continue attempting to communicate with the administration. There might be further updates."

"Roger that."

Gently peeling Maya off of her, Shiro stood up from her seat.

Giving orders to the players in the lounge, she thought.

Causing such a hassle—you half-dead wretch.

（３／18）

Thus, search parties were formed. Armed teams of about five to ten people each patrolled their designated areas.

In one of those groups were Busutake and Kuromatsu, members of the same Secret Society. "Hey, Kuromatsu-san," the former spoke to the latter.

"Have you thought about it? That matter."

"...I'm not doing it," Kuromatsu answered with a bitter face. "My flesh-and-blood body is more than enough for me. I might need your services in the future, but I don't need them right now."

"Is that so? What a shame."

Kuromatsu looked at Busutake. He looked at her limbs peeking out from her sailor uniform, and at her neck.

"That body... almost none of it is flesh and blood, right?" he asked.

"Yeah. I've already replaced more than half of it with artificial parts. Eventually, I want to be a hundred percent artificial, but things like the brain and certain organs are just inherently difficult... I have no choice but to compromise there."

"I missed the chance to ask the other day, but why would you do such a thing...?"

"It's disgusting, you see. Flesh-and-blood bodies."

Busutake replied. Her tone of voice was cheerful, but it revealed a faint sense of contempt.

"I guess you could call it Sarcophobia. I just can't handle raw things. You know how there are people out there who can't stand raw fish or raw chicken? Just think of it as having that kind of hang-up."

He had heard this during their first meeting the other day, but this person named Busutake was apparently the daughter of a cybernetics artisan. Someone from the peripheral industry that helped players who had lost their bodies return to the front lines—. It seemed his techniques had been passed down to Busutake as well, and even though she wasn't injured, she apparently went out of her way to tinker with her own body just for fun. Because of that, she was even shortening her own lifespan, so from Kuromatsu's perspective, it was nothing short of madness.

In exchange for her lifespan, she seemed to have gained an immortality that allowed her to return alive even if her entire body was blown to pieces. She had offered to provide that technology to the other members of the Secret Society, but was generally met with cold responses. For Kuromatsu, too, he'd rather pass on such a thing. He fully intended to live a long life. His plan was to make a fortune with the game's prize money and then live a carefree life in a tropical country. Risking his life was fine, but he wanted no part in shortening it.

"Ahhh, how boring," Busutake said.

"Umesada-san and Takeda-san both died, and Airi-san turned me down too... Guess that's a total wipeout. I really thought my circle of friends would grow this time."

"You want to increase it?"

"Of course I do. That's why I joined the Secret Society in the first place... At this rate, maybe I should just go ahead and betray them. Yuki-shi might be more willing to accept me."

"You aren't serious, are you?"

"Who knows?"

Busutake laughed a bright, ringing laugh.

While having that conversation, Kuromatsu and the others descended the stairs and arrived at "Deck 10". It was an area entirely occupied by guest rooms.

Assuming a scenario where an intruder might slip in from a room's balcony, they were supposed to have placed a couple of guards at the stairs, but no one was there. Even if they had temporarily left their posts, one of them was supposed to remain behind.

Their absence is strange.

"............"

Busutake didn't change her expression much, but with an obviously tense presence, she began to examine the doors lining the left and right of the corridor one by one. From Kuromatsu's perspective, there wasn't anything particularly suspicious to be found, but Busutake seemed to have read something, opening the door to Room 1097 and stepping inside.

No one was there. There was no presence, either. However, this time, there was an overt anomaly. The fluffy white tufts of Embalming were scattered in dots across the floor. They traced a linear path, sucked straight under the bed.

Several scenarios could be considered for a trail like this being left behind. For example, a case where someone dragged their injured body and crawled under the bed. Or, a case where someone murdered someone else and shoved their corpse underneath—.

Busutake peered under the bed, keeping her gun ready.

"Wow."

She let out a sound of awe.

（４／18）

A short while passed. One of Busutake's team members returned to the lounge and summoned three people: Shiro, Airi, and Takami, who had just returned from the deck. With their numbers increased by three, the players surrounded the bed, staring at the two objects resting on the mattress.

Without a doubt, both were dead.

The first corpse had no head. The feminine shape extending from the shoulders to the neck, exposed from the collar of the white sailor uniform, was abruptly severed halfway up without any regard for sentiment. The cross-section was incredibly clean. Rather than being slashed, it was more fitting to say it had been butchered—. The only bladed tools on this ship should be the army knives issued to the Killer faction, or perhaps the kitchen knives, but could such things sever it so perfectly? Leaving aside the neck, it was a well-preserved corpse, with no damage to the clothing or flesh. A struggle had surely not occurred. Had her head been sent flying in a single stroke, or had she been shot in the head and then quietly decapitated?

The other corpse presented the exact opposite appearance. Her head was attached, yes, but the face resting above it bore the color of intense agony. She had died with a look of extreme torment so perfectly sculpted it was as if an art student, wanting to test their expressive skills, had molded it out of plaster. It was obvious what had made her suffer so much—deep, dark bruising was evident all over her bare skin: on her limbs extending from the short sleeves and knee-length skirt of her white sailor uniform, her neck, her slightly exposed abdomen, and so on. An ominous, reddish-black color. The color that blood was originally supposed to be. Due to the effects of Embalming, bleeding exposed to the air would turn into fluffy white tufts, but internal bleeding underwent no such change. The rarity of that coloration further accentuated the misery of the corpse. It was to the point where there were fewer parts retaining their original skin color than not, and the areas with the deepest bruising were so dark that their blackness could be faintly seen penetrating right through the fabric of the sailor uniform. She had likely been beaten all over with something hard. The shape of her mouth was half-open in a bizarre way, suggesting she had been gagged.

There was no one who could definitively state that these two were indeed the guards for "Deck 10", but given the circumstances, it was natural to assume they were.

"Looks like a blackjack,"

Takami was the one who said it.

"Black?" Shiro asked.

"The weapon probably used to torment the bruised one. You stuff sand or stones into a bag to make an improvised blunt weapon. Haven't you ever heard of it in mystery novels?"

Takami poked at the cross-section of the decapitated corpse.

"In this case, she probably used this severed head. A delightfully sadistic play, isn't it? I never would've thought of using a human head as a weapon... The head itself is nowhere to be found, so I wonder if our pal Yuki is still carrying it around?"

"Is it definitely her? The culprit?"

To Shiro's question, Busutake answered, "I think we can say for sure."

"I mean... because the window is like this."

Busutake pulled back the room's curtain.

The window was broken. A hole large enough to pass an arm through had been opened around the lock.

"It seems she turned the lock from the outside balcony and sneaked in. A flawless job, like a skilled burglar. Did she have experience breaking windows? The doors here have soundproofing like a hotel, so if it was done quietly, it would have been hard to hear. She leaped out into the hallway and incapacitated the two standing dumbfounded by the nearby stairs. For her, it wouldn't have taken even five seconds."

"But how did she get to the balcony?" Takami interjected.

"There were clues about that, too. Five rooms down from here—namely, on the balcony railing of Room 1092, there were traces like something had scraped against it. I wonder if she hooked something on it? She threw a hook attached to a rope onto the railing, hung from it, and clambered her way up to get back. Once she was back on the ship, moving between rooms via the balconies wouldn't have been that hard. So the problem lies in procuring the hook, but was there anything like that in the Killer faction's equipment?"

"There wasn't, but there's a belt with a hook that was used to tie down the dropped supplies. That could be used."

"Takami-san, you were on the upper deck, so you saw it, right? Was there a belt missing?"

"I wouldn't know that. The cargo was unpacked, so belts and hooks were scattered all over the place. How the hell would I know if the count was right? Well, your deduction is probably spot on, isn't it? It's a stunt that would put an action movie to shame, but that person would pull it off."

"Indeed."

Pulling off such a miraculous feat with a battered body. She's finally starting to leave the realm of humanity, Busutake thought. Although, when it came to leaving the realm of humanity, Busutake was hardly one to talk—.

"How do you view the state of the corpses? Why kill them like this...?"

"She probably wanted to dispose of them silently."

The one who answered was Airi. Since she had injured her leg in the battle with Yuki, she was leaning on a crutch brought from the infirmary.

"Whether it's an assault rifle or a handgun, the gunshot would ring out. From an infiltrator's perspective, that would be undesirable."

"And why was one of them beaten all over with such painstaking time and effort?"

"A show of force, maybe? She's trying to drop our morale by showing us a brutal corpse. In fact, this is my first time seeing this way of dying, so it gave me a bit of a shock... Being steamrolled while we're in an easy-victory mood is what she fears the most, so maybe she wanted to throw cold water on us."

"Maybe she's grown desperate."

Shiro said, a tone of mockery woven into her voice.

"Her dearest wish of ninety-nine times is likely impossible to achieve anymore, after all. Cornered and broken, perhaps? People who go around massacring players without any regard for the rules—those kinds of people occasionally appear, don't they? Airi-san."

"They do, but... surely not her of all people."

"Who knows? A person whose dreams are shattered can succumb to any state of mind."

Don't talk like it's from personal experience, Busutake thought. No, wait, is it personal experience? She didn't know much about Shiro's background.

"Well, we can worry about our pal's inner thoughts later. What we should care about is her physical whereabouts..."

As if laying it out for everyone present to hear, Takami spoke slowly and with clear pauses.

"Where is Yuki right now?"

（５／18）

No one could answer.

It was impossible for anyone to know. There was no means to track her movements. "Deck 10" had three sets of stairs, but guards were placed at only one. They were strictly meant for intrusions from the outside, so it was undeniable that their defenses were lacking when it came to her moving around inside. It was a massive ship, so the surveillance was inevitably sparse. From Yuki's perspective, it was likely a loose net she could slip through however she pleased.

Nevertheless, they at least knew Yuki had infiltrated. Messengers ran to each team inside the ship. Upon hearing the report, about half of them felt a shudder of fear, thinking Oh my god, while the other half quietly hardened their resolve with an I knew it.

Among them, there was only one person who thought, This is my chance.

It was Maya.

（６／18）

If I take down that bastard Yuki here, it will be my achievement.

Then Darling will look my way again.

Lately, she had been feeling anxious. Shiro was gradually losing interest in her. The passion that had been there when they first met was cooling down. Shiro never showed such an attitude on the surface, but she couldn't hide her aura. Maya could see right through her thoughts.

The reason went without saying: Maya, as a person, no longer had any utility value. To begin with, she hadn't joined as a regular member of the Secret Society. She had merely been called in as a test subject for the educational package the Secret Society had developed. Now that it was done and she had matured as a player, Maya had nothing left to contribute to the Secret Society. Shiro directed no interest toward useless things.

She was a cold-hearted businessperson. Once your utility value was gone, you were discarded. She wouldn't be loved anymore. She remembered Awahime, who had been a member of the Secret Society. The blade that had decisively cut her down was now pointed at Maya. Once pillow talk became a chore, Maya might be given the exact same treatment.

My love with her is a transaction.

She was fully aware of that.

She was with her, knowing full well what it entailed. Maya had fallen in love with that cold-hearted side of her. She considered things like unconditional love to be sketchy at best.

—I'll buy you anything.

—No, I don't need anything in return. I just want you by my side.

It was exactly the kind of people who spouted such things that would demand an exorbitant return later on. Maya understood that intimately. That was why a transaction was fine. She just needed to execute it without delay and without omission.

There had been two chances to take Yuki's head so far. Once was earlier on the upper deck. Taking her gun, Maya had gone out onto the deck along with the other two routes, but it had been quite a distance from the deckhouse where Yuki was hiding, and just as Takami had said, she had "arrived late." She hadn't even been able to participate in the battle. The second time was when they met in the past game, "Mosie Grove." Back then, Maya's intentions had been a little different from what they were now, but even so, had she finished her off there, she wouldn't have troubled Shiro like this.

Maya thought.

Please. Please. Give me one more chance.

At the very least, that wish was granted.

（７／18）

"Deck 4."

It was the lowest floor on the floor maps set up throughout the ship, yet its number was "4." "Deck 1" through "Deck 3"—those areas were places where passengers normally had no need to enter. Namely, the ship's engine room.

The entrance was, naturally, on "Deck 4." Until yesterday, administration staff had stood there making it impassable, but now that the game had started in earnest, it was unlocked.

As Maya and the others opened the door, entirely ignoring the "KEEP OUT" written in stark red gothic lettering, descended the stairs, and stepped into the engine room, the impression of the space completely transformed. Up until now, whether in the hallways or the rooms, everything had been filled with a luxurious atmosphere designed to entertain guests, but now, the floors were checkered aluminum plates, dirty ducts snaked across the ceiling, and the paint on the walls was peeling—well, to put it nicely, it had a sturdy and unadorned build. It was as if the magic had been broken.

Incomprehensible machinery and thick pipes grew densely all over, and narrow walkways were laid out to weave through the gaps between them. Some of the equipment had frames too massive to fit on a single floor and were grounded on the floor below, creating an atrium-like structure in the surrounding area. No, a structure-centric expression like "atrium" might be incorrect. It was more like they had first lined up the machinery in an empty space, and then laid down floors to divide it into three levels without getting in their way—a clear philosophy of machinery-first permeated the space.

Likely due to the exhaust heat from the machinery, it was sweltering. Deafening operational noises also echoed throughout. In a space that could hardly be called human-friendly, Maya and her team of eight scattered to search for Yuki.

There were countless hiding places. It wouldn't be strange for her to jump out from anywhere. Eight pairs, sixteen eyes, darted restlessly, glaring in every direction.

Maya pointed the muzzle of her assault rifle hither and thither along with her gaze, but the thought arose in her mind: Is it really okay to shoot? All the equipment here was surely essential for the safe operation of the vessel. Maya couldn't begin to understand what purpose each thing served, but she acutely felt that breaking them would be a bad idea.

Besides, all these machines probably used fuel and could catch fire. Causing a massive explosion and sinking the whole ship—she didn't think that would happen, but the engine room being engulfed in flames seemed quite possible. If she could hit Yuki squarely and finish her off, that was fine, but what if she misfired—

Just as she was thinking that, another player passed by nearby.

It was a girl named Kota. In her hands, she gripped a handgun.

Some of them were carrying handguns. The guns captured from the Killer faction amounted to about eighty in total, counting both rifles and handguns. These had been distributed, one per person, to the same number of players. They had split into ten teams to search the ship.

That one is much more convenient, Maya thought.

"Hey," she called out.

"Hand that over."

"Eh...?" Kota looked bewildered.

"That. That handgun. I'll trade you for this." Maya held up her own rifle. "But don't just shoot casually. You know it'd be bad if we broke the machinery, right?"

"Eh, then what am I supposed to attack with...?"

"Who cares. Hand it over."

Faced with Maya's uncompromising fury, she seemed to yield. Crouching down on the spot, she slid the handgun across the floor.

To receive it, Maya also tried to bend her knees—

—That was when it happened.

There was a gunshot. From Kota's head, fluffy white tufts burst forth.

（８／18）

"...!"

Maya pressed her body against the large machinery right next to her.

No, of course, she hadn't been neglecting her guard. The two of them had been conversing with their backs against the large machinery, so the line of fire from outside their field of vision should have been shut out.

However, since she had actually been shot, Maya didn't just stand nearby but practically glued her body to the machine. She felt the vibrations of the machine running even at this very moment, and the warmth of its exhaust heat.

"Did you hear that! Just now!"

Maya screamed loud enough for it to echo throughout the entire engine room.

"It's a gunshot! Yuki is here!"

While reporting this, several seconds passed, but there was no second gunshot. Maya felt relieved for the time being.

She cast a glance at Kota, who had her head pitifully pierced. Face down, she didn't twitch a muscle. She was dead. She was likely shot right through the machinery—Maya thought. Because, although the lower part of the machine she had been leaning against was a complex tangle of many pipes, it didn't seem to be completely shielded. Viewed from the other side, there was a subtle gap. A bullet had been threaded right through it.

If she had remained standing, only her legs could have been targeted, but taking a crouching posture had cost her dearly. If she had just tossed the gun normally, it would have been fine. Why did she choose to slide it across the floor? Did she think it would misfire if she threw it? Regardless, she had effectively presented her head straight to Yuki's muzzle. Idiot, Maya thought, whipping the dead.

Even so—

Maya picked up the handgun that had come to rest at her feet.

With this, she had obtained an appropriate weapon. She also knew that Yuki was here.

Moreover—she had roughly grasped the direction and distance. The direction went without saying. As for the distance, she could deduce it from the state of the corpse. Given the minimal damage to the head, the bullet was likely from a handgun. Furthermore, by the looks of it, the bullet hadn't passed through her head. It had managed to penetrate the skull once, but had most of its kinetic energy sapped there, meaning it couldn't do it a second time and remained lodged inside the brain. This narrowed down the shooter's location. Measuring the enemy's position from the state of a corpse—the Secret Society's educational package had included topics for such classroom lectures. Peeking her face out from behind the large machinery for just an instant, Maya directed her gaze toward the direction she suspected.

There, standing out prominently from its surroundings, was a gigantic machine. It was one of the large-scale machines that couldn't fit on a single floor, and from this level, only its top was visible. It had a characteristic shape, so even Maya, who lacked knowledge, could read its true identity. That was likely—

"The engine! She's near the engine!"

Maya shouted.

She didn't just report to her comrades; she headed there herself. She advanced while skillfully hiding behind cover.

A gunshot rang out. A player running diagonally in front of Maya—seemingly shot in the head—collapsed forward as if her strings had been cut. At that moment, Maya saw her. Yuki's figure, peeking her face out from the shadow of the engine. She was there. She was definitely there.

Next time I catch sight of her face, I'll blast her away instantly, Maya thought, burning with motivation, but the next opportunity simply didn't arrive. Yuki wouldn't show herself. No bloodlust could be felt whatsoever—no, on the contrary, not even a presence.

Eventually, several players, including Maya, reached the side of the engine. They circled it completely, trailing their hands along the railing of the atrium, but Yuki was nowhere to be found. She had vanished.

"She went down?"

Maya said, looking down into the atrium. She must have jumped into here and moved to the floor below.

Naturally, they gave chase, but jumping from this atrium was a bad idea. There was the possibility of being sniped from below. From various separate locations, such as nearby stairs or other atriums, Maya and the others descended to "Deck 2." "Deck 2"—the scenery there was largely the same as "Deck 3," except for the ceiling being a bit lower. In other words, there were plenty of places for Yuki to hide her body, and her footprints were completely unknown.

As they split up and searched for Yuki, another gunshot roared across the floor. Maya and the others rushed to the scene in a hurry, only to find one of their comrades dead with her eyes wide open. Another one down—yet, there was no sign of Yuki. No presence, either. She had likely already relocated.

What do they call this sort of thing?

Hit-and-run? Guerrilla warfare?

Whatever you wanted to call it, they were being played beautifully. Making them move left and right while chipping away at their forces. It was clearly the fighting style of someone with a geographical advantage—perhaps Yuki was holding up a siege here. Returning to the ship, she had headed straight for the engine room, memorized every nook and cranny of the floor, and claimed it as her territory. There was no place on the ship with more complex terrain than this. It was the perfect condition for a siege. It was designated a restricted area until yesterday, so she might have even anticipated that Maya and the others would correspondingly lack any geographical advantage.

If possible, I'd like to finish her off with my own hands, but—

Should I look at the big picture here? Maya thought.

"Reibun went running as a messenger already, right?"

Maya brought up the name of a player who wasn't there.

"She should have," an answer returned from another girl. "I saw her heading back toward 'Deck 4'."

There were no communication devices in this game. To exchange information between distant teams, there was no choice but to rely on the ancient method of sending runners. A "messenger," confident in their leg strength, was deployed one per team, set up to immediately go and inform the other groups upon discovering Yuki. In a little while, reinforcements would arrive.

"Then, let's lock down the exits," Maya said. "We wait for backup. She's a rat in a trap; there's no need for us to go out of our way to chase her with a small group."

The engine room was located below the waterline. This meant it had no windows, and if the entry and exit points were blocked, there was no way to escape. Just as Maya and the others were about to turn back to "Deck 3,"

a clunk-clunk sound was heard from the ceiling.

They all looked up in unison.

They looked at the ceiling laced with ducts. What was the source of that sound—? There wasn't even enough time to pose the question before one of them ruptured.

"...?"

Maya and the others widened their eyes even further.

A hole had opened in a section of the duct, and smoke was billowing out.

Did gas explode inside? No, the destruction was far too localized for that. It had to be the explosion of a hand grenade. Had Yuki sent it into the duct from the floor above—? But for what purpose? Maya and the others couldn't fathom her true intentions.

The clunk-clunk sound was heard once again. She must have rolled another hand grenade.

And this time—there was a hole open in the duct.

Realizing it with a start, Maya screamed. "...Take cover!!"

（９／18）

On "Deck 3".

Yuki listened to the explosion roaring beneath her feet.

（10／18）

Yuki had returned to "Deck 3".

She hadn't climbed the stairs. She had slipped through a narrow gap in a maintenance panel.

Then, she launched a surprise attack on the enemy players who had carelessly gathered right below her feet. How were the results? Yuki slipped through the maintenance panel once again and dropped down to "Deck 2".

Ah, perfect. In a space caked with traces of destruction, four people were lying down—it would be better to describe it as "four people's worth" rather than "four bodies", as every single corpse was severely mangled. That would happen to anyone if multiple hand grenades exploded within a radius of a few meters.

However, the most problematic one seemed to be missing. Maya, a member of the Secret Society—Yuki had heard her voice, so she was aware of her presence. The facial features of the four barely-identifiable corpses didn't match hers at all. Had she successfully hidden behind cover? Her whereabouts were concerning, but she didn't have the time to go searching for her, either. Reinforcements should already be on their way here, and she couldn't afford to waste too much time. Turning her back on the casualties, Yuki ran through "Deck 2".

Right in the middle of it, she detected bloodlust. Without panic or fuss, Yuki calmly shifted her body's axis and fired in the direction of the bloodlust. Letting out a groan of "...Guh...", the one crouching there was unmistakably Maya. The bullet seemed to have hit her arm, and she had dropped her handgun. She had fallen to her knees, taking a side-sitting posture, but the ends of both of her legs were covered in fluffy white tufts. She must have lost them in the explosion of the hand grenades. Walking upright was impossible in that state.

Without allowing a death poem, without reading her Miranda rights, Yuki fired again in rapid succession. However—despite having injured both legs and her right arm—Maya pushed hard against the floor with her one remaining left arm, rolling behind a piece of machinery.

She gave chase.

（11／18）

Ah, I'm going to die, Maya thought.

She could no longer even move properly. Although she was managing to drag herself by twisting her right arm and torso, there was no way she could escape like this. It would merely extend her lifespan by five or ten seconds.

Seeing the time was right, Maya resigned herself. Flipping her body over from face-down to face-up, she caught sight of Yuki pointing her gun this way.

Their eyes met.

Her eyes—.

First of all, they were not the eyes of someone in a pinch. They were not the expression of a person who had lost all her comrades and was being forced to fight a lonely battle against more than four hundred enemies. There was no sense of tragedy, nor impatience. It was majestic.

They weren't the eyes of a half-dead wretch, either. She didn't seem driven to despair after sustaining severe injuries and having her hope for ninety-nine times cut off. They were neither the eyes of the dead, nor of a ghost; they were the eyes of the living.

Much less did they hold a shred of pity for Maya. She wouldn't know the state of mind in which Maya had been fighting. And even if she did, she wouldn't show a speck of sympathy. Pulling the handgun's trigger likely registered to her as nothing more than flicking on a room's light switch.

Every conceivable color of frailty was absent.

Then, what is it?

It was strength. Power. A strength with no missing pieces. It overflowed with a blazing energy. A cruel level of forward-looking optimism, like a pirate setting sail on an adventure to a treasure island.

This is, almost like.

（12／18）

Yuki stared down at Maya, who had become a silent corpse.

Was she Shiro's lover? Was she trying so desperately for her sake? Sorry I couldn't let you kill me, Yuki thought.

She didn't actually feel sorry. She had just brought the words to mind. If she felt "sorry" every single time she defeated an enemy, she couldn't survive in a world of life-and-death struggle. Therefore, she also held absolutely no guilt or hesitation regarding what she was about to do. Yuki stripped the clothes off Maya's corpse, stripping her down to her birthday suit. Pulling the army knife from the holster at her waist,

She plunged it straight into her flesh.

She let the blade run.

After drawing several lines in that manner,

"Heh," a chuckle spilled from Yuki's lips.

（13／18）

Yuki is in the engine room—.

That report was passed from person to person, spreading to every corner of the ship.

It also reached Busutake's team, who had been patrolling around "Deck 8". They immediately headed for the engine room. Takami was also in this team. Since they knew Yuki was alive, there was no longer any need to communicate with the administration on the upper deck.

Meeting up with other teams along the way and forming a group of about twenty people, they were running down the corridor of "Deck 4" when they bumped into Shiro and Airi at a corner.

"Oh, Boss. Long time no see."

Without stopping his sprint, Takami gave a greeting.

"And Airi-chan too. You got here fast. Weren't you both in the lounge on 'Deck 13'?"

"We took a shortcut," Shiro answered. "We broke a window in the lounge and jumped from there onto the window frame of 'Deck 4'. She came with me, too."

Shiro indicated Airi with her thumb.

"Every second counts," Airi said. "Yuki-san went to those lengths; we have to do at least this much... Though, jumping from the lounge didn't require any ropes or hooks."

"You're reckless, huh. You don't have your crutch, are your legs okay?"

"They're not okay, but considering the opponent, I can't afford to rest. I'm walking by skillfully distributing my weight so as not to put any strain on my left leg. I can manage for a little while."

"...You're doing ninja-like stuff, huh."

Takami said. Awahime's walking techniques had no such function. It was a skill entirely unique to Airi.

"Yuki-san is probably doing the same thing. The cybernetic limb on her left leg should be mostly broken, but she's likely moving normally."

"Nothing but monsters around here."

Chatting like this, they arrived at the engine room.

Maya's team should be engaging Yuki—but there was no sign of that. The groaning hum of the machines could be heard, but there were no gunshots, human voices, or footsteps.

However, "Look at that," Busutake pointed.

"Isn't that a person? They look like they've collapsed."

Takami and the others turned their eyes in the direction her index finger was pointing.

Indeed, there was a person there. Obstructed by machinery, only the shoes on both feet were visible from here. The toes were both pointing straight up, completely motionless. It didn't look like they were hiding behind cover. They were lying dead.

Approaching with the utmost caution, they found that it was, as expected, a corpse. She had died from a single bullet to the head. A brilliant, utterly sufficient method of killing.

"I think it's safe to say she's 'here'," Airi muttered.

"'Was' here, maybe," Takami followed up. "Maya-chan's team might already be totally wiped out, and she might have left afterward. What was it like when Reibun-chan took off running?"

Saying so, Takami looked at the player playing the "messenger"—Reibun.

"The moment the first gunshot sounded, I immediately went to make contact. It was just a few minutes ago, and I think it's way too fast for a complete wipeout, but..." she answered.

"We'll find out once we actually take a look."

It went exactly as Busutake had said. Placing a few guards at the entrance and exit of the engine room, Takami and the rest searched the area.

"Hey, cyborg," Takami called out to Busutake.

"What is it?"

"You know more about machines than I do, right? Is it okay to have a shootout in here? It won't explode into flames like in the movies, will it?"

"No way. They aren't that fragile. I don't know about artificially causing one, though... That's more your area of expertise, isn't it, Takami-san? Is there a possibility of Yuki-shi using such tactics?"

"I can certainly imagine it, but then our pal Yuki would die too."

"What if she herself isn't here, and she attached a bomb to the fuel tank to detonate remotely?"

"She doesn't have nearly enough time to employ such a convoluted method. Plus, our pal isn't all that well-versed in engineering, right? She couldn't pull off technical demolition work."

Finishing their search of "Deck 3", Takami and the others descended to "Deck 2". After searching for a while, they discovered yet another corpse.

What's more, five of them. Four of those were reduced to mush, likely having been caught in an explosion. The remaining one was suspended from the ceiling duct with a wire—.

A slender, tall figure. Long hair.

It was Maya.

Ah, so she really did die, Takami thought.

He immediately turned his eyes to Shiro, who was nearby. Publicly, they were supposedly lovers. What kind of reaction would their boss show to her death? Takami was deeply intrigued.

"............"

Shiro had a momentary period of expressionlessness.

It was the same face as when she had found the corpse on "Deck 3"—a face where no emotions were welling up.

And then, after that instant passed, as if swapping out a mask, she assumed a visage of intense rage and punched the duct crawling along the nearby wall.

"...That half-dead wretch..."

she muttered.

"I will absolutely kill her."

The air froze. The twenty or so players present fell into an awkward silence.

But Takami found it incredibly amusing. He desperately held it in, telling himself he mustn't laugh or let it show on his face, but the next time he was alone, he would undoubtedly roll around on the floor laughing.

Ah—so that's how it is. There was no way she was actually angry. Being driven to rage over the death of a comrade wasn't her character. Even feeling anger at all was likely impossible for her. "Anger," "sadness," "joy"—Shiro didn't possess such primary-colored emotions. What she had instead was the "irritation" when things didn't go as she wished, the "disappointment" directed at useless others or society, and the "amusement" of deeply feeling her own happiness by comparing it to others, even if things went well. Takami had a bit of that tendency too, so he understood it well. She was the kind of person who could only harbor muddied emotions.

So, that was a performance. "Fake" anger. Because if she didn't act like that, she wouldn't seem human. Because people would think she was weird. She probably didn't even think of it as "acting." It was a habit ingrained at a subconscious level. On the outside, it was indistinguishable from normal anger, but it lacked the roots that naturally should have been there. It was a paper tiger.

How delightful, Takami thought.

How pitiful, he also thought. This feeling wasn't directed at Shiro, but at Maya. Even for the misanthropic Takami, such an end seemed deeply unfortunate. To not even be able to shake her beloved through death.

Had Maya not realized Shiro's true nature?

（14／18）

Airi felt a creeping anxiety spread in her chest.

An arranged corpse, just like the one they had seen in the guest room on "Deck 10"—. At that time, they had assumed its purpose was a show of force, but was that really all it was? That doubt was beginning to sprout. There's no way that person would become like that. Was she just wanting to think that?

"Hmm."

Busutake let out a word.

"Now that I think about it, there's something I just remembered..."

"What is it?" Airi asked.

"Yuki-shi suffered abuse, didn't she?"

"Abuse?"

"You heard I was present in the game where she got horribly injured, right? Apparently, she was tormented by another player. Instead of just killing her normally, they went out of their way to meticulously crush her limbs, destroy her internal organs, and gouge out her right eye."

"Why do such a thing?"

"I don't know. Did she buy someone's grudge in a past game? Well, for her it was actually a stroke of luck, as it saved her life... but being humiliated to that extent must have been a first. It must have left a scar on her mind. Maybe she's doing this as a reaction to that."

Airi couldn't even offer a nod of acknowledgment.

It was almost like.

She pictured the girl with the kyara-colored hair in her mind.

Once logic was attached to it, it became all the more terrifying. If she had awakened to something like that—I'd hate that, she thought.

Why? Do I want her to remain noble? Is it vulgar to senselessly abuse others? She didn't know. She didn't know, but regardless, she just didn't want it to be like that.

Maya's corpse, swaying back and forth in mid-air—perhaps the vibration from Shiro punching the wall had transferred to it—rotated to face them. Since she had been stripped completely bare, parts that wouldn't normally be shown in a shōnen magazine, like her nipples and private parts, entered Airi's view. A word was carved into her abdomen.

Massacre.

Meaning, slaughter.

"...Oh?"

Busutake tilted her head.

"It's missing an 's'. A typo, maybe?"

"Eh?"

Airi strained her eyes to look.

She was right. Her brain had auto-corrected it, but what was actually written was Masacre. It had become a word with a goofy pronunciation like "Masaker".

It was a spelling mistake.

（15／18）

On "Deck 1", Yuki heard footsteps.

（16／18）

They're finally here, huh.

She didn't know their numbers or composition. Some of them were probably erasing their footsteps, after all—. However, judging purely by what she could hear, it was safe to say it was a large group. For the current Yuki, it would be difficult to handle them all. From here on, it was going to be an increasingly perilous tightrope walk.

Yet, she wasn't scared in the slightest.

She felt nothing.

As always, her heart was a blank void. Even though the game was reaching its climax, she was eerily composed. What has happened to me? Yuki asked herself for the umpteenth time today.

Am I broken?

She didn't know herself. But, at the very least, it didn't seem like a bad condition. Her body wasn't at a hundred percent, but her head was doing great. She was dispassionately completing the tasks she could do.

Humiliating the corpses was part of that. In such an overwhelmingly disadvantageous situation, it was best to start off with "harassment" for the time being. Whether they froze in fear at the ghastly corpse, or trembled in anger—either way, it could shake the enemy up.

However, she did think she should have practiced more. She had it in her head as a tactic, but she'd only had easy games lately, so it had been a long time since she had practical experience. She couldn't help but smile bitterly at making a spelling mistake in such a tense situation. Grudging the time to add the missing 's', she had strung it up just like that, but—would it still effectively rattle them? Wouldn't it just kill the mood instead? She was slightly worried.

Well, what's done is done.

Yuki looked forward. Not metaphorically, but literally. On "Deck 1"—namely, a section of the wall at the very bottom of the ship—a cutout like something from a festival's katanuki candy game had been made. She had been "working" here until a little while ago, but had paused since Maya's group attacked. If she continued working, the noise would surely be heard by the enemy. She'd be broadcasting her location herself.

Therefore, she had to finish it quickly.

（17／18）

The sound of an explosion was heard.

The distance was somewhat far, and the direction was at an angle. Airi determined it was coming from "Deck 1".

"It's from below, huh,"

Takami said.

"Has anyone gone down to 'Deck 1' already?"

"No, that shouldn't be..."

Airi looked at the players around her. Including Airi, there were twenty-three of them. Not a single person had been lost since they entered the engine room. It wasn't possible that someone had acted on their own authority and was engaging Yuki.

Judging from the number of corpses, they knew Maya's team had been wiped out. Was there someone who had arrived before Airi and the others and had already made it down to "Deck 1"?

"Let's head over," Shiro said. "This sound must be indicating Yuki's location. She might be inviting us in, but even so, we'll take her up on it."

Airi and the others cut short their search of "Deck 2" and descended to "Deck 1" using the nearest stairs.

Then, another explosion was heard. This time it wasn't just that; it was followed by a fierce rushing sound of water. At that stage, Airi thought, It can't be, and the others likely did too. But no one said it out loud. Because it was too terrifying to even want to consider.

After proceeding for a while, Airi and the others all stopped in their tracks.

The floor spreading out ahead of them—was wet with water.

Several players, Airi included, reflexively scooped the water up with their hands and brought it to their mouths. It was salty enough to clearly tell even with a tiny amount.

"F..." someone screamed. "Flooding!?"

（18／18）