Content Warning: This chapter contains depictions of self-mutilation and graphic violence.

"I often think back to the King of Spades when I think of power injustice. No one could consent to his wicked game. Anyone within the city could fall prey to his terror. Constant player GPS tracking, endless supply of firearms and ammunition, access to bombs, you name it. It wasn't much of a game—rather, just a wild chase for your life."

===Aoyama Tōka===

– – – – – –

"Right there." Araya whispered, passing me the binoculars. "You see him lingering between the shadows?"

I brushed a few strands of hair out my face, bringing the lens to my eyes. A young woman in a white blouse and black shorts walked down the alleyway, hands clenching her purse, turning back around every few seconds. We were within a hollow crate on a balcony of a building across from her sidewalk. Trailing behind her, a few alleyways away, was his figure.

"She's alert. He'll be careful with her." I whispered, lowering the binoculars.

"We should probably get down to ground level." Araya whispered. His dark hair brushed between my head in our tight hiding spot; the air was thick.

"Good call. Keep your pepper spray and knife ready."

He laughed, swinging his fist. "Why would I need knives when I have my hands?"

I rolled my eyes, crawling backwards out of the small cube of space. Keeping my steps light to avoid drawing a creak from the metal steps, I slid down the steps, with Araya trailing behind me. Once I was behind the main facade of the building, I stood up, hastening my pace and jumping over the railing, landing on my feet on a dry portion of the concrete. Araya opted to slide down a support beam, pulling out a small knife.

Out on the street, I scurried behind a dumpster, wrinkling my nose and switching to breathing through my mouth. The woman turned around, her eyes wide. "H... Hello? Is anyone there?"

She hesitated for another few seconds, before turning back around, this time we pace much brisker. But so was the killer. He slipped out of the alley, matching his own footsteps with hers. As she turned around again he slipped into the next alleyway.

We couldn't just outright make ourselves known to the woman, or else the killer would simply abandon his prey. But if he struck before we reached him, we could simply close in preemptively.

Araya had long since settled beside me; his shuffling was so quiet it had gone unnoticed by me. We met eyes and nodded; now would be the time to cross the street. I stood up, walking on light feet, when a trembling came in the distance. It filtered out my ears at first, but grew louder. I perked up, and so did the killer.

"Aoyama!" He hissed, pulling me back behind the dumpster right as the killer turned his head towards us, clamping his hand over my mouth. The trembling was accompanied by whooping, as well as the ringing of a bell. It was a bike.

Three high schoolers zoomed down the street, their figures a blur, laughing loud enough to wake up the entire neighborhood. They blew right past us, their noise disappearing as soon as they arrived.

"Those idiots!" I whispered. "They almost got us caught."

Araya shrugged. "They're just three high schoolers enjoying life. At least we're safe."

I sighed. "Doing dumb shit like that almost makes me miss high school. But anyways, there's more distance between us and them now. Let's get back to the matter at hand." As the killer slipped behind another alleyway, we stepped out, creeping through the street and onto the other side, behind a fence.

"Where is he now?" Araya asked, peeking between the wooden boards of the fence. We kept watch, but the killer didn't appear again. I gasped.

"He must be trying to ambush her now!" I murmured. "Now that the distance between them is fully closed, he's going to run into her from one of the alleyways she's yet to cross!"

And just after that, the woman gasped. I pressed my eyes right against the boards; she was knocked down to the ground, and the killer stood in front of her, knife in his hand.

But, lucky for us, he was facing away.

"A single scream and I won't hesitate to kill you right here." He said. His voice bore no emotion or malice, just an eerie calm.

The woman cried, backing away on the ground. "No, no!"

As me and Araya kept ourselves low, creeping up to the man, he got onto his knees, pressing the knife against her throat.

She tilted her eyes up, her eyes widening at the sight of us. I gasped, as Araya again pulled me behind an alleyway.

Silence followed. Then, the man spoke. "No one will see or hear you. And if they do, they won't care. What are you doing, going out by yourself so late? Don't you know how dangerous it is?"

Araya took the lead, the silence in the street like thunder. When the distance was only a few meters, Araya sprinted, leaping towards the man and throwing him around. The killer struck the knife towards his hips, grabbing onto Araya's shoulder with his other hand, but Araya caught his wrist, the knife stopping in its tracks.

Cursing, he dropped the knife, and with his now free hand, reached behind his shirt, pulling out a gun. The entire exchange, so far, had taken less than a second.

"Araya!" I screamed, running the rest of the distance. The gun was aimed to his head, and as the killer pulled the trigger, I grabbed Araya by the fabric of his shirt and pulled him away. The bullet plunged through his shoulder, showering the ground with blood. I slammed my foot into the man's shins, folding him over, grabbing the knife and kneeling onto top of him, knife pressed against his neck.

"Araya!" I shouted again, eyes still glued to the killer.

"I'm okay!" He said, blood rushing out of his shoulder. "Just call the police!"

"Lady, get your phone and call the police now!" I ordered.

She did as she was told. "Thank you... Thank you two so much."

"You're welcome." I breathed, sweat rolling down my neck. Saving a life was a plus, but the most valuable reward out of this operation?

A paycheck large enough to pay a year of rent.

– – – – – –

Current standings:
C: 16/100
P: 69/600
==
Hanako: 19
Aoyama: 15
Niko: 13
Gabura: 11
Fukioya: 11
__

A few minutes prior...

We were in the kitchen, as Hanako slammed her fists into the wall, leaving a cracked dent. Wakai lifted a bloody corpse that laid across the table, throwing it to the floor with a thud. A hole was slashed through its thighs.

He paused, eyes remaining on the corpse. His wrist was bleeding, from when he had rolled it in shattered glass. "I have an idea." He said.

"What is it?" I asked, in the midst of bringing a knife across my shin.

Wakai opened a drawer, pulling out a meat cleaver, so sharp that it glistened. It was in a drawer that had remained untouched until now. "Everyone is so preoccupied with gaining points through gradually harming yourself. Well, what if we did it all in one go?" He brought the butcher knife to his arm, signaling a slicing motion.

"Don't you think that's what everyone before us has thought?" I asked. "Half these corpses are missing an appendage. They clearly tried to try to clear the game in one swoop but died doing so."

"Hell, I'd be cool with losing an arm if it meant automatically clearing this game." Hanako said. "But Aoyama has a point. It's very risky."

"These games are all risky. No risk, no potential of earning a lead." He reasoned.

"There's a point to be made from both sides." Hanako said, not looking up from her endeavor. "Personally, though, I think Wakai has a point."

"So then, what?" I asked. "We just impulsively take off one of our limbs?"

Wakai put his hand on the table, steadying the knife. "I think I can handle it."

"Wait! Isn't that impulsive?" I asked. "Think this through."

"I've thought this through, and what I think is that this game doesn't need to go on for any longer!" He shouted, raising the blade.

"Okay, hold on!" I said. "We should at least tell the others!"

"They're with the Queen!" Hanako said. "If the Queen finds out, she might try to replicate our action."

I cursed, backing away. Even though the plan was out of line, Hanako was also correct. Letting out a frustrated yell, I turned to Wakai. "Then let me do it! There's less risk that way!"

Hanako brought out some clean towels from deep within the pantry, laying them across the table, and also prepared a large measuring cup of water along some butcher's twine. I reached for a lighter, burning the cleaver, sweating.

'Damn it... Why am I going along with this plan? It's either I take his arm off or he does it himself, which will only increase his odds of death. And this idiot isn't backing out of his plan!'

"Okay, just do it!" Wakai yelled, rolling up his sleeve and gesturing toward his bicep. "Just get it over with1"

"Oh... Fuck, man." I muttered, tightening his bicep with the twine to cut off blood circulation. Hanako backed away, smashing a glass bottle against her abdomen, flinching.

I lined up the knife against his arm. "Okay... Three..."

Wakai grit his teeth.

"Two..."

He breathed in, and closed his eyes. Before I counted to one, I began sawing. The reaction was immediate. Wakai howled in pain, throwing his head back, as blood burst from the amputation site, flooding onto my arms. My ears filled with the ringing of the headset, the dings blurring into a single continuous high-pitched hum. I closed my eyes, sharp resistance meeting my force. Bone.

"Keep going!" He cried. Hanako's face paled, and she turned away.

With my free hand, I formed a fist, punching through the bone. Fragments of white shot out, as the blade hacked through. With a final push, the cleaver met the towel beneath Wakai's arm.

"Oh my god..." He screamed. "Oh my god!" Everything was coated in a layer of blood; I dropped the butcher's knife to the ground, staring down, where my entire chest was soaked red. I screamed too.

Wakai stumbled. "I..."

"Shit!" Hanako cursed, grabbing the cup of water and throwing it onto him. The cold splash widened his eyes for a second, as he held onto the counter for support, keeping his stump upright to slow the bleeding.

I slapped him. "Stay awake, damn it!"

He backed away, his eyes heavy, then collapsed to the ground. His collar blared, flashing red lights. All our collars blared too.

Running came from outside, it was the other three. "What the hell?" Gabura shouted, running in. "What the hell happened?"

"He thought it'd be a good idea to saw his arm off and get all the points we need in one go!" I shouted. Gabura's mouth was agape, her eyes switching behind me and the body.

"And you just went along with it?" Niko asked.

"He insisted on doing it himself if no one else would. It was either I did it, or he did it, and me doing it would've been less risky, not that the risk ever outweighed the potential anyways!"

"Oh my god, this is so fucked up!" Gabura shouted, running her bloody arms through her hair, pacing around the blood puddles. Niko hesitated, before running out of the room, without a doubt some goal in his mind. Flies in the room who had been lurking on the other corpses had already begun landing on his body.

"Now we're one person short, lost all of Wakai's points, and still need to get the remaining points!" Fukioya said.

"There's a TV in the other room," Niko announced, running back into the kitchen. "We're 16/100 to 69/600."

Soft laughter came from the hall leading into the kitchen. It was Makasu. "Every game, this has happened. I've seen men bigger than him merely fall unconscious from smaller amputations. It's ironic how a pit trap I've never even intentionally set up has led so many players astray towards such a foolish path."

With that, she left, not saying another word.

"We can't beat her." Hanako said, after about a minute of silence. "Not with traditional methods, at least."

Gabura sighed, walking up to me. "Are you okay?" She whispered. "I know that must not have been... Easy to experience." I nodded, unsure myself whether I was confirming I was okay or that it truly wasn't easy toi experience. I pushed the red out of my mind.

"Let's think!" Niko said, as Fukioya carried a TV from the adjacent dimming chamber into the kitchen, plugging it into the wall.

"In the meantime, we can't stop hurting ourselves." Fukioya said, smashing a bottle over her head.

"Maybe there's ways to feel pain without having to deal with the long-term consequences." I suggested. "It's clear none of us can challenge the Queen in terms of pain tolerance or sheer endurance."

Gabura turned her head, surveying the kitchen. There were two massive, granite islands in the middle of the kitchen, each with a sink and dishwasher. Another counter ran along the wall, with a massive eight-burner stove. A blood-stained fridge hung open, next to a walk-in freezer and pantry. I walked up to the freezer, opening it, and was hit with a blast of blizzard-like air.

I gasped, squeezing my eyes, squinting against the cold front. Inside were three ice-coated corpses, a layer of white over them. Niko stepped in, as I held the door open, and he shivered, plunging his hands into a bucket of ice.

He hissed, as our collars dinged. Gabura and Fukioya rushed in, following his action. I closed the door, putting a nearby broom between the door, as I entered the pantry. Inside, most of the food had been taken or rotted. I wrinkled my nose; bottle shards, juice stains, and molding fruit were split across the floor. I walked down the shelves, which opened up into a larger chamber, containing shelves and crates of fruit, vegetables, and sauces.

A lightbulb went off in my head. I rushed to the center of the room, which contained crates of cans and bottles of sauces, pulling out a crate of red, which was full of hot sauce. No one had bothered to even check this part of the room; it was virtually untouched. I smiled, grabbing the crate and sprinting back out, already popping one of the bottles open.

"It's hot sauce!" I yelled. "There's hot sauce in the pantry! It's perfect!"

"Aoyama, you're a genius!" Gabura yelled, storming out of the freezer. I guzzled the bottle with a skull and dried black pepper, my tongue sliced by a burning sensation. I screamed, my eyes red hot and falling with tears, as our headsets began dinging. Niko drank two bottles at once, one of them a devilish black color, before coughing out the sauce, doubling over and vomiting on the floor.

"Oh my god!" He yelled. "That's horrible!"

Our scores on the TV rose; we were making progress again. My stomach bubbled like a volcano, and I gagged, spitting out  a mouthful of red, when I tried to swallow again. My mouth was a numb inferno, hot tears running down my face.

Current standings:
C: 26/100
P: 112/600
==
Niko: 27
Hanako: 25
Aoyama: 21
Gabura: 20
Fukioya: 19
__
Wakai: 151

Hanako breathed deep, hunched over and supporting herself against the sink. "Oh my god... My mouth..." She took a drink from the faucet, as Fukioya was directly below the other tap, letting the water run into and out her mouth like a fountain. Gabura, however, had microwaved a glass of water until it was hot, then drank it, her face flaming red as she drank.

"Aoyama... That was a hell of an idea." Niko said between pants, patting my back.

"If we keep getting at techniques like this, we'll be able to clear this game without having to do too much damage to our bodies." Hanako said. "This game is equal parts strength and creativity, which the Queen doesn't let on."

"So what other techniques bring great amounts of pain, but won't harm us physically, too much.?" Niko asked.

Fukioya choked from under her faucet, spitting out a mouthful of water. She patted her chest, coughing as water dribbled out her mouth. "Sorry."

"Hmm... Choking?" Niko asked.

"It takes a while for choking to set in, though." Gabura said. "And plus, after that, it's like twenty seconds of discomfort, but after you can breathe again, it doesn't really hurt much in the long term. It doesn't leave long-term physical damage, but it doesn't leave long-term pain either."

The water from both faucets continued to run. "Waterboarding..." I said,. "Waterboarding! It's an extremely painful torture technique, and while there's a risk of lethality, people can just tap out of it at anytime!"

Hanako smiled. "I like the way you think. But still, we still need someone to watch the Queen. Who'll be it?"

I turned to Gabura. "How about you go? You've got a keen eye, and could probably read her best out of all of us."

'Plus, you're one the strongest ones here. You'll stand the best against her.'

"Are you guys sure? I don't just want to–"

"We don't have time to debate who's going to be a hero." Fukioya ordered. "Any objections to Gabura being the Queen's spy?" No one objected.

"I'd need to look for her first." Gabura said. "I have no clue where she is."

"Better now, each second brings us closer to death!" Niko said. "We'll be fine. Three of us will be on the counters, and one person will waterboard us."

Gabura nodded, sweat lining her forehead. "Okay, please stay safe!"

I put my hand on her shoulder, nodding, before she backed away, taking a breath, and sprinted down the hall.

===Gabura Sachi===

I found Makasu in one of the living rooms, grating off pieces of skin with a cheese grater. She hissed, biting a towel, pouring droplets of vinegar into the lacerations. Three couches were laid in a square, and a large glass coffee table was between them, above a dirtied wool carpet. A massive flatscreen TV hung on the wall, displaying the score.

"You again?" She asked, not bothering to turn attention away from her task.

"Damn right." I said. "I'm going to keep an eye on you."

"Feel free." She said, turning her attention towards a knife, which she prodded into the beds of her toenails. I cringed, taking a hammer and smashing through the glass of a coffee table, stepping on the shards with my feet. Our headsets rang about once every minute.

"All I know is, these deaths are a blessing compared to some of the most common types of death people will experience in the past world." She finally said, breaking the silence. "For me, I'd much rather prefer a Game Over than dying by some horrible illness."

I remained silent, but my mind began wondering. Maybe some conversation would alleviate some of the pain. "Illness?" I asked.

"I have lung cancer." She said. "Never smoked or was even around people who smoked. Drew a short straw, I suppose."

"I'm sorry." I said. "Even though we are competing against each other... You don't deserve that."

"You lot aren't particularly talkative. It makes this game become quite a slog of just slits and pain when there's no conversation between me and the players."

"Well, what's there to talk about? At the end of the day, we're enemies. We can't afford to give away any semblance of information."

"I suppose I understand." Makasu. "Still, I doubt there's no need to be so prude."

"And I have no proof you aren't just trying to lower my guard." I retorted.

My collar rang, several times in succession. On the TV, Aoyama, Niko, and Fukioya each