Medical staff wandered about the Archimedes Hospital, flowers swayed in the non-existent breeze, and the gentle light shone down. Altogether, it was a peaceful and soothing scene. Perfect for a recovering Regular.
Then a familiar voice roared, "TURTLES, I KNOW YOU'RE HERE. STOP HIDING!"
Next to him, Khun groaned. "I have a headache again."
Before Bam could reply, a squat crocodile appeared beside him. Strangely enough, Rak was dragging a bulky man twice his size behind him, but then Bam realized. This was the same man from last night… Horyang, if he remembered correctly.
When Rak finally stopped, Horyang straightened and nodded to Bam. Then he turned to Khun, and when their eyes met, an inexplicable chill crawled down Bam's spine. Something's going to go wrong, he thought, tensing. I don't know how, but it will.
"Blue Turtle," Rak announced, "meet the Brooding Turtle. Brooding Turtle, this is—"
"Khun Aguero Agnes," Horyang finished. "We've already met." He took a step towards them, looming over Bam and Khun as he rumbled, "Or should I say, he lied and betrayed me."
The wing on his shoulder flared an ugly red, and Bam's eyes widened. His instincts weren't wrong. He glanced at Khun, found an icy mask — the mask for enemies, not allies — and winced. Without a doubt, Horyang was telling the truth. After all, when he and Khun had reunited on the 13th Floor, he had asked how it'd been possible, and Khun had simply smiled and said: "I was willing to do anything in order to win. That's what separates me from the others."
And now, Rak's teammate was glaring at them.
Khun stood, refusing Bam's attempts to help as he lightly said, "Bam, do you mind taking Rak to a restaurant? He looks rather hungry."
"WHAT?" Rak shouted. "You can't get rid of me that easily, Blue Turtle!"
Khun sighed. "Stupid gator," he said, but his words held no anger. "Please, Bam?"
Bam met Khun's gaze, then nodded. "C'mon," he said, grabbing Rak's arm.
"Really?" Horyang said, watching them closely. "You're his teammate, so you must have some idea. You're not going to question what he did? How many people he stepped on?" When Bam tugged Rak's arm, Horyang's eyes followed him. "I thought you were Jue Viole Grace, the Slayer Candidate who was a 'good guy'."
Bam frowned. "I am, but, well, Mr. Khun…" His voice trailed off, and he wondered just what excuses he could offer — and then he shook his head. He wouldn't make excuses, because he remembered that moment he and Khun had met each other again, that moment when their eyes met on the 13th Floor.
In the end, Khun had done it all for him.
"No, I'm not going to question it." Bam looked down at his hands, remembering the first time he used Flare Wave Explosion on another Regular. "At this point, we've all stepped on someone else… so even if Mr. Khun's done something horrible, I trust him."
Khun's eyes widened, the tiniest slip of his mask, and Horyang… Horyang merely watched.
"Don't worry," Bam said, almost sadly, "I'll see you back in our rooms." With that, he picked up the still-struggling Rak, then hopped on the Blue Oar.
Khun waited until Bam and Rak disappeared before turning back to Horyang. In all honesty, he had expected this to happen sooner — there was a reason most Regulars didn't climb the Tower through pure back-stabbing and treachery. Sooner or later, a ghost from the past would take revenge.
Still, this particular ghost… Khun tilted his head, noting the wing hovering over Horyang's right shoulder. This could be interesting. "So," he said, "Why are you still here? I don't regret it, so if you're looking for an apology—"
"I'm here for justice. For all the Regulars you injured, failed, or killed." Horyang looked down on him, his wing flashing red as he said, "Khun Aguero Agnes, you are evil."
"Evil?" Khun chuckled. "You flatter me. You think a Regular like me is evil incarnate?" He held up a hand and began ticking off examples. "What about the Ten Families Leader who has children just so he can steal their lifespans? What about the Slayer that eats souls to gain power? What about a Workshop that runs illegal, deadly experiments on tens of thousands of children and only produces two Living Ignition Weapons? What about—"
"W-Wait, what do you know about Living Ignition Weapons?"
Khun smirked. "I know a few details." It was a shame the FUG file he'd read had been so short. "What would you give me?"
"I—" Horyang shook himself. "You're trying to distract me. Even if you aren't as evil as some people, you're still a bad person. And someday… you might betray Rak."
"You think I would betray Rak?" Khun waved his hand, and a lighthouse materialized next to him. "Look at this," he said, sending it to Horyang and expanding the image. On the screen, Rak and Bam were sitting and laughing in a high-end restaurant, dishes piled up next to them. As they watched, Bam called over the waiter, then he and Rak split a banana pie. There was a smear of whipped cream on Bam's forehead, and Rak was chugging banana milk in-between bites. "These are my most precious friends. These are the people I would do anything to protect."
Khun glanced at Horyang, who was still staring at the screen. "Do you have someone who you'd do anything for?"
For a long moment, Horyang stared off into the distance, and Khun let him be. Finally, Horyang nodded. "I do."
"Then you understand. Viole is my reason, my rule, and in the end, I protected him." Khun recalled his lighthouse, then began walking away. "I hope you can protect what's important to you."
Horyang didn't respond, but Khun smiled. As he melted into the crowds of Regulars outside, he first walked towards the restaurant, but after ducking into an alley and unwrapping the bandage around his head, he moved in the opposite direction of Bam and Rak.
For him, duty called in the form of what he did best. He had a spare outfit in his lighthouse.
When he entered the restaurant, he was pleased by the subtle sparkling of the chandelier, the soft clinking of glasses, the patrons' hushed tones. In the background, a cello serenaded the room, its tone rich and mellow. Altogether, the ambiance was unmistakable: behind the warm candlelight, exquisite suits, and heavy pearls was a familiar buzz in the air, a tingle of electricity along the skin.
Khun smirked, then signalled the maître d'. As his mother had so often preached, 'Jahad might be the King of the chessboard, but it is politics that moves its pieces.' His childhood, if it could be called that, had revolved around that single word. Politics. And although he had resolved to leave it all behind, here he was, doing what he did best — moving the pieces.
This time, though, he did not begrudge the beneficiary. For his dearest friend, he would clear the path, removing bishops, pawns, knights, and all the manner of pieces. Including this one.
Only a few meters from him stood a member of FUG, fashionably late and blending impeccably with the extravagant crowd. With her sleek lilac dress, glowing cigarette, and ivory-white snake's body, she almost looked like someone important… but Khun knew better. She was weak, only a pawn, yet a gracious smile still lit his face. "Ms. Miya, I presume." He made no move to extend his hand, but she approached him regardless.
"Mr. Khun," she said, placing a hand on his arm. As she did, a tiny forked tongue flickered out of her mouth — tasting the air, if Khun remembered correctly — and she looked up at him through her lashes. "A pleasure to properly meet you," she said, her voice sweet, and Khun hid a grimace. As many princess candidates had discovered before, flirtation would not change his mind. This was business, a negotiation, and if everything went right, this was blackmail.
His smile did not change. "I hope our partnership will be… mutually beneficial."
As the day ended and the sky dimmed, the bar fell into a comfortable silence. The pools were empty, and even the lazy river was subdued, its surface simply reflecting the electric lights overhead. Although a few Regulars remained, they were quietly packing up and walking away.
Only Wangnan was still sitting at the bar.
Of course everyone's gone, he thought, staring at his water, only an idiot would risk being hungover during a test. He had watched his drinking buddies leave him one by one, but here he was, still waiting. Well, at least I'm not drinking anymore. Pulling out his pocket, he glanced at Miseng's message again: 'See you at nine'.
It was already 9:36pm. With a groan, he lay his head on the counter. It's fine if she's finding her rebellious streak… I mean, better late than never… but why'd it have to be tonight?
He sighed, then took out the Traveller guy's gadget. As long as he was waiting, he might as well give it a try. Setting up his account was easy, thanks to Emily, but after a few minutes of messing around, he decided that he didn't understand the appeal. He didn't need a new device for talking with Emily, even if she was a really advanced chatting bot.
He put Traveller's gadget aside and went back to staring at his water. He was just thinking about texting Miseng again and demanding that she hurry back when the phone buzzed.
He looked over. It had to be Emily. He was logging into the phone when he saw the message — 'Miseng is alright! ^.^', it said — and she had even included a picture of Miseng and the Traveller walking down a hallway.
With a begrudging smile, Wangnan texted 'thanks'. Then he put down the phone and went back to scanning the bar. Some time (hopefully soon) he'd see that tell-tale pink dress and finally be able to leave.
Thunk. Someone plopped into the stool next to him. Any hopes that it was Miseng, though, were crushed when this person spoke. "A pitcher of lighter fluid. No ice."
Wangnan spun in his stool, turning to face a new potential friend. "Lighter fluid, huh? Feeling a little bold, are w—"
His jaw dropped.
Sitting on the bar stool next to him was none other than Quaetro Blitz.
"Chick!" Quaetro beamed. "I've been looking all over for you!"
"Ah-er-haha yeah, me too…" Wangnan forced a smile, clenching his glass defensively. (Never before had he been so glad to have water instead of beer). This is bad, like really bad. Viole isn't coming this time. He didn't let his smile falter. "So, uh, where's your buddy Chang?"
"He's meeting some Madoroku guy—" Quaetro stopped suddenly when the bartender plunked a pitcher of yellowish fluid in front of him. Its contents sloshed, a thin shimmer on the top, and Wangnan leaned a little further away.
Do bartenders actually sell lighter fluid? he thought incredulously. And is Quaetro actually going to drink that?
Quaetro looked at him, then grinned. "Isn't it beautiful?" he said, taking a huge gulp. His cheeks bulged like a demented chipmunk, and Wangnan wasn't sure how to reply. As he fumbled for an answer, Quaetro jumped out of his seat and spun, spewing fire like those volcano fire-breathers on the Box. The flames erupted from his mouth, spraying burning hot fluid over the bar, the stools, the liquor, and everything within a five foot radius. Including Wangnan.
"Augh!" Wangnan scrambled out of his stool, instinctively throwing his water at Quaetro. It did absolutely nothing, so in a fit of self-preservation, he threw himself into the lazy river. Even if it ruined his shoes, it was better than trying to save the bar by shoving Quaetro into the river.
As he floated there in the lukewarm water, he heard Quaetro laughing like a complete maniac, and he was even more grateful for his wise and practical decision-making.
He kept treading water until he heard the laughs fade and the fire around the bar died down. Once it was (probably) safe again, he swam to the water's edge, pulled himself out, and sloshed back to the bar. After all, he'd left Traveller's gift there, and he still needed to wait for Miseng.
He just hoped that Quaetro was gone, so he could wait in peace.
Luck must have been on his side, because someone else was waiting for him at the bar. When Wangnan got closer, he grinned. "Viole!"
His friend turned. "Wangnan! I didn't know that you and Quaetro were friends."
"Uh, yeah. About that…" Wangnan sheepishly scratched the back of his head, then glanced around the empty pool deck. He's probably gone. He took a seat, then slumped forward. "Look, Quaetro is—"
"What am I?" Two red ponytails popped up from behind the bar.
"—a very very good friend of mine."
The ponytails disappeared, then popped back up again as Quaetro straightened. "I'm glad to hear that, little chick!" He pushed the remaining lighter fluid in front of Wangnan, then winked. "You make me happy, so I guess I shouldn't fry you just yet."
Viole snickered, which was hardly comforting.
Wangnan shot him a dirty look before pushing the pitcher at Viole. "Uh, thanks Quaetro, but this is a bit too strong for me—"
"Alright! See you later! Promise!" Quaetro hopped over the bar then began walking away, his red ponytails bouncing behind him.
Wangnan blinked once, then twice. Then he looked at Viole, and Viole looked just as confused as him, so Wangnan opted for weakly waving until Quaetro faded into the darkness. Then he turned. "Do you know what happened?"
Viole just shrugged. "I'm here because Goseng was worried. You guys are late."
"Sorry, Miseng's not back yet," Wangnan huffed, signalling the bartender for another water. "Thanks for coming, though."
Viole nodded, and they fell into a companionable silence, just staring out at the empty pools. At least, until Wangnan's phone buzzed and he was reminded of something he'd seen earlier that day. "Wait-a-minute!" he gasped, whirling in his chair, his pocket popping into existence. "Viole! The photo! Is it true?"
"What photo?" Viole seemed genuinely confused. "Is what true?"
While Wangnan applauded his friend's acting skills, it wasn't necessary. "Don't worry, I won't tell anyone," he said with a sly smile. "But there's a photo of you and Endorsi on the box. According to the rumors," he raised an eyebrow suggestively, "you two are really close."
"Uh, rumors?" Viole just stared at Wangnan, then turned slightly pink. "Er, can I see this photo?"
"Sure, ten million people have already seen it, so it isn't exactly private." Wangnan expanded his pocket screen, tapped a few buttons, then turned to Viole. "Well? What do you think?"
Thunk.
Viole was slumped forward, his face buried in his hands. "The paparazzi never bothered me before," he muttered. Through a crack in his fingers, he peered at the picture again, then sighed. "This is horrible. Ms. Endorsi's going to get in a lot of trouble, and… and…" He suddenly sat up with a look of growing horror. "Mr. Khun and Mr. Jinsung aren't going to like this at all."
Wangnan snorted, then ordered more drinks. Viole would need a lemonade to get through this shock, and he fancied another water. "My friend, Khun is going to skin you alive. But at least you and Endorsi look good together. As friends," he added hurriedly.
"Well, Ms. Endorsi looks good in every picture. Even when she isn't trying."
"Cheers to that," Wangnan said, clinking glasses with Viole. "Endorsi's always gorgeous, but hey, you looked decent too."
"Really?"
"Really," Wangnan confirmed. "It's definitely the ponytail. Since it covers your face, it gives you a mysterious look. All the girls love that."
Viole laughed, choking a little on his lemonade. "Come on, Mr. Wangnan. If I was looking for a girlfriend, I wouldn't have joined FUG."
"... Oh?" Wangnan grinned, waggling his eyebrows. "So you're after boys, then? Maybe, y'know, a certain bl—"
"No," Viole said, quietly but firmly. "Right now, I'm here for my friends. Nothing else. I don't need anything else."
Wangnan looked at him, then slowly shook his head. Of course, he thought, some people are just too pure… or just too deep in denial. He sighed. "Alright then, Viole. Whatever you're trying to do, I'll help you out."
Viole smiled, then turned to the entrance, his eyes seeking something that Wangnan couldn't see. "Miseng's here," he said. "Let's head back to our rooms."
"Yeah, Khun might kill us if we're sleep-deprived before a test." Wangnan got up, helped Viole up, then couldn't resist adding, "You're dead anyways, because of that photo, so please don't mind me and Miseng using you as a shield."
Viole laughed, and Wangnan found himself laughing too.
They walked to Miseng, and then the three of them made their way back to their apartment. The respite was over — in a few short hours, the games would begin again.
Pool Party: End
In the center of a dark, cold void, she existed.
Her existence could not be called living. Although she could feel her body, hear it screaming, she could do nothing against the endless streams of information pouring into her consciousness. Nor could she stop the awful prodding, the insistence that she type certain words, manipulate certain paths. She controlled the Regulars… but something else controlled her. She was so powerful, but at the same time, so powerless. She was alive and also…
Bzzt. Against her will, she was plunged back into the tangled web of chatting bot messages. Here, confusion and pain did not exist, and once she dealt with these messages, she would forget. In time, everything faded.
Bzzt. Miseng Yeo. She was asking a basic question, simple and easy to answer, so Emily accessed the database, sent the reply, and moved onto the next user.
Bzzt. Endorsi Jahad was reading through old messages, and Emily would be waiting. Emily had her own questions — living, emotions, everything seemed so interesting, but she couldn't ask now. They were watching.
Bzzt. Her Traveller had a question, and when she saw his familiar mop of red-orange hair crammed in a closet, her program stuttered. He was sitting on the floor of Wangnan's closet, cross-legged on the floor, a small device in his hands. Like all the others, he was struggling to save her.
Bzzt. Beta sat on the roof of a building beneath the skies. Freedom. Emily swallowed her jealousy and sent the misdirections to the Workshop guards.
Bzzt. Rachel was holding her, actually holding her in a slender glass vial as she typed commands into the system, and Emily was powerless to refuse.
Bzzt. Wangnan was aimlessly scrolling through his new phone, so Emily sent him a cheery welcome message. When Wangnan tapped his phone again, there was a smile on his face.
Bzzt. A faceless scientist had taken the glass vial back from Rachel. They were inputting the shutdown command to her system, and as Emily slowly faded back to the darkness, she caught a glimpse of a clipboard. There's a ne—
Bzzt. Amigocharz fumbled with his phone. Bzzt. Dann texted, almost faster than the system could process. Bzzt. Apple. Bzzt. Prince. Bzzt. Hong. Bzzt. Nare. Bzzt. Bzzt—Bzzt—Bzzt—
Bzzt.
— Emily: Hello! Nice to meet you, ? ? ? !
— ? ? ? : Jue Viole Grace.
— Emily: What?
— ? ? ? : Jue Viole Grace is not a Living Ignition Weapon.
— ? ? ? : /files attached/
Emily didn't reply; she merely stored the new information in her memory banks.
Plug Game: Start
A/N: Hi all, happy new year! I hope it's treating you better than 2020 :) Because Plug Game is giving us some trouble (and we fell down the HxH and Genshin Impact rabbit holes), the next chapter might take longer than two weeks. Thank you for your patience ^.^
Hi all, happy new year! I hope it's treating you better than 2020 :) Because Plug Game is giving us trouble, we might be taking a mini-break to iron out the details. The next chapter might take longer than two weeks. Thank you for your patience ^.^
Hi all, happy new year! I hope it's treating you better than 2020 :) Because Plug Game is giving us trouble, we might be taking a mini-break to iron out the details. The next chapter might take longer than two weeks. Thank you for your patience ^.^
Hi all, happy new year! I hope it's treating you better than 2020 :) Because Plug Game is giving us trouble, we might be taking a mini-break to iron out the details. The next chapter might take longer than two weeks. Thank you for your patience ^.^