I hadn't a clue myself, and neither did those answers.
To be honest, they just tumbled out of my blathering gob, this mouth of mine that simply won't stay shut. It was as if I was stamping out every question like an ant. Yeah, more precisely, like an ant about to bite me.
Pure reflex. Instinct.
Nothing from my brain.
Maybe it was just my survival instinct, which fear has castrated far too often.
"Well, I must say, you've got some brass neck, haven't you… answering like that."
Akuma's voice—casual yet pressing—was like a thin sheet of paper slipped between sword blades. Light, but it could cut you in two parts.
"So, you know the answer now, don't you, Midnight?"
THUMP!
Suddenly, that voice was like a whip lashing a vein. It smacked the side of my head hard—with a name no one was supposed to know. That strange feeling crept back. My anxiety felt like it had climbed right into my skull, biting like a faulty electric current.
A right mess. Burning. Trapped.
The way she uttered my username… it was too perfect.
Too deliberate.
Staged like a play, but brimming with personal vengeance.
As if she knew. Not just suspected. Not guessed. But knew.
I quickly plucked up the courage to dart a glance. The room was filled with eyes that seemed to possess a murderous hunger. Not the gaze of people wanting to know who I was, but the stare of people who already knew, just waiting for me to trip up.
The room, which had been so loud and bustling, suddenly fell silent to my ears. Only my heartbeat remained—buzzing, screeching, echoing. The only real sound left. The hot air seeped through my pores, but it wasn't the room's temperature. This was the heat of pressure. A subtle terror thrown from hundreds of pupils silently sharpening.
And among them all, one gaze stood out.
Her. Akuma.
The one who'd just said my name. Sitting nonchalantly, as if this whole thing were just a game for him. Her finger tapped gently on the table, its rhythm like a bomb timer.
Tick… tick… tick…
"Did I get that wrong, 'Midnight'?" She asked again, this time with a devious smile.
I wanted to retort. Wanted to argue. But my mouth felt like it was locked with barbed wire, and any sound I forced out would only hurt myself.
Bloody hell.
This game had shifted, and I… I was losing before the round even began.
"Alright, that's enough chitchat."
Akuma tossed it out casually, as if she'd already read everything I wanted to say.
She leaned forward, then closer.
Her slender finger—her middle one—pressed gently on my chest.
"So, once more, my dear Midnight," she whispered, challenging,
"if it wasn't me or Full-Metal, then who killed the mysterious guest?"
I swallowed hard, feeling a cold and hot sensation twisting in my gut. Inside, my survival instinct whispered for me to stay silent—to stay quiet. But I had to answer. I had to show my deduction. With a trembling hand, I pointed towards the throng at the end of the row, to the voice that had broken the silence earlier.
"That voice…" my voice was low, barely a hum. "It came from…
"The 'special' guest first stepped in with barely a whisper of a footfall. His smile… too symmetrical, too perfect. His eyes seemed to see nothing but this stage.
"Then the explosion—that explosion wasn't just a bang, but a colossal blast that shook this entire space. My eyes caught a flash of light, debris flying, blood gushing—it all happened in a blink.
"In the playback—slow motion—the scene replayed: severed body parts, blood, every flying speck… all brutally recorded. As if this was… a slaughterhouse theatre.
"And on that screen, in a corner of the fractured frame, I saw a name:
[ARCHAZER]
"That's—the main sponsor of this game. We… they killed their own sponsor, right in front of all of us. Like shock therapy for us, the participants.
"And amidst the chaos, I saw Akuma standing still, holding a detonator, but not pressing a single button. Full-Metal beside you was frozen too—expressionless."
Akuma frowned, then offered a faint smile.
"Interesting… and how did you know that? And who was killed then?"
I took a breath, looked down for a moment… then lifted my head. "That man," I said firmly, "was wearing a shiny suit like Full-Metal's, but his face paint was exactly like a clown's—just like the Joker in that Western film that went viral when I was a kid. I almost felt nostalgic—but then I heard him say, 'Alright, enough with that cheap imitation clown.'"
"Shots came out of nowhere, then the bomb exploded, flesh and blood flew—all recorded."
The rumbling sound echoed again through the crowd's gullet. I bowed my head for a moment, trying to compose myself, then continued:
"Then… the recording replayed. Slow motion. Everything scattered across the screen—bodies flung, blood dripping, the screams of the victims. Too real to be called fiction.
"Suddenly my stomach turned, but I couldn't stop staring at the screen. I was looking for clues. There—behind the crowd—I saw the name [ARCHAZER]."
"And you, Akuma, didn't press the detonator. Neither did Full-Metal. You both just watched. As if you both were puppets."
Akuma clapped her hands together, followed by Full-Metal's cold applause which sounded like clanging metal.
Then Full-Metal raised his voice, with a flash of text on the screen:
[MARK THE DIRECTION OF THE SOUND SOURCE. NOW.]
I turned, seeing players huddled—they were terrified, some unconscious, some screaming. I raised my right arm, pointing directly into the middle of the crowd. The stage lights suddenly dimmed, then a spotlight shone on a mysterious figure. A neat suit, a face painted like a clown—exactly like the special guest who had just been blown up.
All eyes focused on him.
In unison, Akuma raised her right hand:
"Allow me to introduce..." her voice cut through the din. "Whimsical_Clown."
The crowd screamed hysterically.
The clown stepped into the centre, a grinning, curved smile, staring at us one by one—empty, captivating, terrifying. Then his voice came out, soft but echoing:
"Greetings, ladies and gentlemen...."
A roar of laughter and tears filled the room. And I stood—trying to calm my pounding heart—realising that this game had only just begun.
"I am merely your whimsical clown."