Right after the clown introduced himself, the players erupted—utterly unrestrained. Screams tore through the air, like a metal concert… except there was no rhythm, no harmony—just pure chaos.
Akuma had to step in.
"Hey, you brain-dead morons! Can you shut the fuck up for once?! You're here to PLAY! TO HAVE FUN! TO FEAST, NOT WHINE LIKE FUCKING TODDLERS LEFT IN A DUSTBIN!"
There were no response. The room was drowning cries. Some players looked half-deranged. Velvet included.
"SHUT THE FUCK UP! DAMN, YOU'RE NOISIER THAN A PACK OF RATS!"
…Wait, what? Just like that?
Silence.
Dead silence.
Not a single sound—save for the dry echo clinging into the stale air.
The Akuma who was just screaming a second ago—collapsed. Flat on her back, limbs splayed out weirdly.
Could it be…?
A wild guess, but maybe that device drains her stamina every time she uses it. Like a hidden fee. After all, power always comes with a cost.
Wait…
Yeah. Libido.
If this game is indeed based on Freudian theory, then perhaps the control mechanism siphons his libido. Meaning: her ability to feel arousal is drastically reduced. That might even explain why she's so… erratic. Vulgar. Always clingy to FullMetal like a fly to syrup.
Ah. So that's it.
But before I could connect the dots fully, she suddenly sprang to her feet—no, not just stood up, she flipped over like a spring-loaded gymnast. Bursting with energy. Almost unnaturally so.
"Wah wah waaah~ Shocked, weren't you? Hehehe~ That was just a bit of acting~!"
What the hell. How'd she recharge that fast?
If libido could be restored like that, then the source must be… what ever it is, something grotesquely potent.
I glanced at her hand. She seemed to be hiding a small silver pouch.
For a second, I thought I saw her chug it before she popped back up. I assumed it was nothing, but then—
"You were looking, weren't you, Midnight sweetie? Looking at this~"
She shoved the pouch in my face. At the tip—thick yellowish-white fluid…
I didn't want to know. But clearly—that was her energy source.
"Wanna taste? I swear It's delightful, you know~"
I shook my head furiously, very aware—too aware—of her suggestive nonsense since the beginning.
Of course, it was all deliberate.
"Hey, don't be like that. That stuff's for girls. He's a guy, isn't he? Brain the size of a peanut."
That sarcastic voice? It was the party crasher—Whimsical_Clown.
I didn't bother responding. No use getting offended by someone like him.
They kept talking like I wasn't even there. Too casual.
When I first heard his name, I had no idea who he was. But his mannerisms… something about them was familiar. Maybe… we'd talked in the lobby once?
This guy…
He wasn't a stranger.
"Oh? You're curious too, aren't you? How fascinatingly predictable…"
Once again, my thoughts may as well have been scribbled on my forehead.
[ANYWAY… DOESN'T ANYONE FEEL UNCOMFORTABLE WITH THE MESS ON THE FLOOR?]
FullMetal cut in, pointing at the mangled corpses she labeled "mess." Her tone? Blank. Like an AI that'd lost its script.
"Ah, good point. CLEANING SERVICE! GET IN HERE, YOU IDIOTS!"
And there it was again—her inner toxic gamer girl. Fermented and preserved deep in her soul.
Soon after, a crew of gray-suited workers with helmets came in. They vacuumed up the corpses with something like a massive Dyson, leaving the place squeaky clean. Even Akuma's shoes—splattered with guts—were spotless.
"Okaay~ all shiny now, darling~!"
FullMetal didn't say much. She patted Akuma's head, and the girl responded with a hiss and a purr, like a spoiled cat.
I swallowed hard.
How could they be this… chill, in a place this tense?
The other players? Since they were "silenced," they looked like statues. Not moving, but still alert. Like computers stuck in standby mode.
I finally dared to speak.
"So… what now?"
"What do you mean 'what'? Didn't we introduce ourselves already? What, are you slow or something—"
[I BELIEVE HE'S REFERRING TO HIS QUIZ DEDUCTION.]
FullMetal chimed in. She remembered.
"OH, RIGHT! THAT?! YEAHYEAHYEAH!!"
The scream stabbed my eardrums like ice picks. High-pitched, too real, like a murder shriek in surround sound.
And she had a mic. Of course. Built-in speaker system. Instant auditory torture.
"What're we waiting for? Just give him the prize already and let's move on."
Whimsical butted in—the show had gone on long enough.
"Wait wait waaait! The audience is still zoned out—how're we supposed to CELEBRATE?! GET UP, YOU LAZY BASTARDS!!"
The players shot up like puppets. But their faces… still. Too still. Like nothing happened.
"Confused, aren't ya? Don't worry. I 'injected' something special. Not directly, of course."
"With that, they won't scream like banshees again. Annoying little shits."
Kettle meets pot, then calls the pot black.
Akuma had read my mind. Again.
Alright, let's be real. Time to speak from the soul:
You're the most disgusting lowlife villain I've ever encountered.
Sex-crazed, obnoxious, and… cheap.
Her ears went red. She whispered:
"T-thank you…"
…That was not a compliment, you mad psycho.
The players began to glance my way. Their expressions a jumbled mess—confusion, revulsion, vague understanding.
"Confused, huh? Don't worry about it! The air just feels hot and heavy in here, right? That's all!"
She brushed it off like I hadn't insulted her at all. As if it were praise.
"Anyway… aren't you all dying to know what PRIZE Midnight's getting for solving the quiz?"
Their faces twisted. Envy. Spite. Raw resentment.
I didn't even know who they were.
Some were intrigued. Some indifferent. Velvet just shook her head slowly.
"Sooo? Do you wanna knooow??!"
She screamed with such force, it felt like she wanted to ignite everyone's emotions in the room.
Fake crowd cheers blasted through the speakers.
"Alright, alright—no more teasing… Here it is—THE PRIZE FOR THE ONE AND ONLY… MIDNIGHT!