A wild-haired magician in a plain linen robe waddled on his way with a smirk on his face. Bogemu Uneyotsu had just successfully overcome one of the toughest contestants in the battle royale, so he had every reason to be ecstatic. In his joy, however, the magician didn't notice a lone swordsman with pink hair and a blue kimono soaring from high up in the air with an upside-down drawing slash.
"Assassination Blade: Lightning Strike!" the swordsman chanted while crashing down with all the noise of a dainty autumnal leaf and sheathing his blade. The moment that the guard touched the scabbard, a gruesome wound ripped open on Bogemu's back and splattered blood in all directions, coating the assassin swordsman who felt so familiar with the sensation of a down-pouring geyser of blood that he stood up and closed his eyes, welcoming the warm sensation like the room temperature of one's own home.
"Your ability to turn reality into a board game is a terrifying one. For the sake of the victory of the Iron Country samurai, you must die," the pink-haired swordsman boldly claimed, while staring at the bloodied and disgraced body he had just cut down with a stern stare of red-iris eyes. His eyes were squinted and strict, beady like the tip of his blade that he turned against only the strongest swordsmen, sparing the weaklings, the women or children in the hope of one day carving all the Seven Ninja Swordsmen. "I was wondering if your ability became inactive when you weren't using it against someone, and it appears that it was."
"Is that what you think happened…?" a disembodied masculine voice made the pink-haired samurai hitman close his eyes in discomfort. "It isn't that I must use my ability actively, it's that a challenge must be cast before it is activated. Now that you've attacked me–you're my opponent, so prepare to roll some dice."
"I dislike gambling, however, there is no better gambler than someone with the instincts and eye of a swordsman," the pink-haired manslayer slipped his sword underneath his white belt, knowing that he wouldn't need it while playing reality-bending board games against the magician.
"That is true only when your opponent intends to cheat. While I would very much prefer to cheat and secure an easy victory, I'm afraid that the Game of Life basically plays itself and it is the fairest game of them all. At least when both players have tangible bodies and the same number of limbs…" Bogemu Uneyotsu rose from the ground where he laid reduced to the state of a lifeless bag of bones with a greyed-out complexion sunken in shade and eyes completely submerged in it.
"In that case, you have as much to lose in this game as I do. It's a strangely fair ability, despite its tremendous innate power," The glare of the swordsman sharpened with a focused look at a pair of burning bone dice rattling in between both him and his opponent. The rest of the world around them began washing away like mucky gouache from the surface of a canvas subjected to heavy rain. With his hands stuffed in his sleeves, the stern-faced elegant swordsman accepted being a part of this powerful yet ultimately fair game that bent the very fabric of reality.
This would be unlike any fight he's ever been in. The most unique assassination job, bar none.
"Hmm, it appears that the dice determined I should be the one to start. If you feel inclined to cut me down as I pass you by, be my guest and act as you please," the magician with a face that only stayed together because of a large band-aid keeping it together in the middle teased his opponent while pointing at the dice that rolled a 3 and a 5.
"Don't think that I will accumulate unnecessary penalties like your last opponent. I am well aware that when the game has started, it can only resolve via the game's rules," the pink-haired swordsman scolded his opponent with a harsh look.
"It was worth a try," Bogemu snickered while passing his opponent by only for the swordsman dressed in blue to step aside and let his opponent pass on to his proper space. Upon stepping on it, the ground began shaking and the frame of a fortune wheel burst forth in between the two competitors. After weaving together like made from hemp rope, the wheel hardened to a proper steel frame and formed colorful tin scales. "I've stepped into the Sagacity space. It's a penalty game. The winner gets the turn, the loser gets a penalty. Are you ready to play?"
"Before we begin, I must know if I can trust your explanation of the rules. This game is alien to me, whereas I feel you've played it countless times," the pink-haired swordsman tried peering through the wheel of fortune that obscured the view of his opponent yet permitted the successful passage of each of their voices. Knowing that it was the dice that determined the spaces one could stand on, where one could advance, and how far, the samurai hitman remained in his space instead of trying to climb the wheel or to step to peek around its side.
"You're overestimating me, samurai. This game is far too risky to play it too often. If my life didn't depend on it, I wouldn't have played it against another human opponent. Beating Death at it was one deal, beating another human, let alone someone who has some experience gambling, even if they hate it, is a different matter entirely. That being said, lying about the rules would grant me a penalty and exonerate you from any penalties accumulated because of my poor explanation of the rules. It's why I make it my business to explain the game to anyone I play with–I don't want the other players to get any freebie mistakes," Bogemu's voice came back to the swordsman.
"Well, in any case, that remains to be seen. Based on how this Sagacity penalty game goes, I'll decide whether or not I will trust your explanations," the swordsman decided with a calm look on his face. Submerged in deep-seated harmony, the red-eyed swordsman awaited for the explanation of the rules.
"Right now, there is a golden arrow on my side of the wheel. It will spin until it stops at a random angle. I will then have to supply you with a hint about the degree it is on. We count the degrees in 5% increments, from 0 to 100. That is to say, 0 means that the arrow is pointing left from my point of view, 100 means it is pointing right," Bogemu explained.
"That is hardly a fair game. All you need to do is provide me with a false hint and I can never guess the exact angle," the samurai hitman opened his eyes with a bitter look of distrust.
"You misunderstand, samurai. It is my incentive to have you guess correctly. If you guess wrong, the arrow plunges into my heart. If you guess right, it plunges into yours. Now you understand the rules sufficiently for me to no longer have to reveal anything to you. My hint is thus, the competitor I have previously defeated, Death, had what chance of winning the Game of Life against me?" Bogemu's voice inquired.
"Hmm… That is a tricky question. I'm going to say–25%," the handsome manslayer stated.
"Heh, you idiot! How can someone lacking a body ever stand such a high percentage of victory!? Not even a numb-skulled swordsman can be so stupid as to not understand that if you knowingly guess wrong–you receive a penalty and the game is over!" Bogemu's voice rose in volume. He was getting heated and excited. While he fancied his odds of winning the Sagacity space game, the outcome of the Game of Life was never so simple to predict.
The arrow buzzed and twirled, so much even the pink-haired samurai could hear behind the wheel of fate but what followed was a crunchy thud. As faint dripping noise colored the atmosphere and the magician panted heavily with vocal expressions of pain behind his every breath, the wheel of fate unraveled the same way it came to be–by becoming hemp rope and then slithering back into the space it came from while Bogemu kneeled in front of his opponent with a golden arrow sticking out from his chest. Occasionally he coughed up some blood, but otherwise, the arrow kept his wound from flooding the board with sanguine red.
"You must be wondering what happened. Just like you said, I surmised that the reason you stopped talking was because there was an aspect of the rules you didn't explain. However, because of how clear that unspoken rule was, I also assumed that the game wouldn't punish you for not explaining it. After you explained the outcome, there was a natural hole in the rules–why doesn't the opponent just knowingly guess wrong? After all, it is your incentive to make the real answer as clear as day to your opponent, because your body is in the hands of their correct guess. It's far too easy to win that way. It's obvious that if I were to knowingly guess wrong, I'd have received a penalty for abusing the game's rules. However, there is something you failed to take into consideration–the fact that the Game of Life transcends time-space and the rules of reality itself…" The swordsman spread his hands to gesture a hint for his opponent to think bigger.
"Of course… You didn't guess wrong knowingly…" Bogemu grunted in pain and coughed some blood out after trying to force speech. "You guessed wrong because you simply didn't know the answer–all time stopped when I and Death played the board game. We also played it on a different dimension outside ordinary time-space. You knew we played a board game, but you didn't see the game itself, you didn't know that Death had a 0% chance of winning it."
"It is your fault for assuming the information that was available to me and giving me a needlessly vague hint," the hitman concluded, crossing his arms.
"Heh, this is why I tend to avoid playing the game as much as possible, despite the power of the game…" Bogemu's cheek tilted, forcing his pained and pale lips to smile. "It's your turn, roll and move."
The assassin turned his head up. Just the turn of his chin made the flaming bone dice over his head rattle. Almost as if they were controlled telepathically as opposed to needing specific gestures or commands. After rolling left, right, front, and back as if shaken, the dice settled in the positions of 4 and 5. Knowing better than to defy the rules of the almighty board game; the hitman advanced further and stopped on the exact field he was required to.
Ivory stairs with sharp bone spikes rose in a circle around the pink-haired swordsman as he examined the complicated setup for the game that he and his opponent were about to play. Initially, it seemed like some sort of race across the steps but, given the experience with this board so far, it was nothing like that. The ivory slates comprising the round staircase to heaven shuffled together into two decks of cards and slammed in front of each competitor.
"Hmm… I am not aware of this game. For both our sakes, let me check the rules," Bogemu placed his hand out in front of him and pressed it against the edge of the slate. A round, flaming circuit drew across his hand and the slate's backside became cluttered with some sort of hieroglyphics, except these symbols didn't represent any language that the solemn-faced manslayer knew.
"I wasn't aware that there were rules and spaces of this game you didn't know," the assassin said, just to ignite conversation again after the game had gone uncharacteristically silent for a few rounds while the magician read the rules.
"Of course, I've learned what I know the same way I'm learning about this game. I recount the games I've played before but when I see a new one, I have to memorize its rules and figure out a strategy, just like you do," Bogemu pulled away from the symbols and let them sizzle out before cracking his neck to the right and to the left to shake the numbness of reading off. "This is the Unnamed Space. The player to call out its name wins the game. These decks in front of us have cards that possess incredible power. Each of them has a symbol and a letter that both of us will be able to read. If you can think of a name of a thing representing the category that the card represents and starts from the letter on that card, the power of that card will shift reality and convert the name of this space into that which the card's name is."
"I see, and since one wins the game by calling out the name of the space, the player calling out the name of the card is also the player that wins the game," the hitman surmised. He swiped the slab with his hand as if attempting to draw it from the deck like a sword from a sheath. At the same time, the slab on the opposite side slid open, revealing the symbols and the letters on each slab at the same time to each player.
The slab presented before the swordsman had the spade symbol like that of a playing card and the letter Q on it. Meanwhile, the slab presented to the board game magician was that of a childish playing ball that didn't resemble any specific sport and had the letter A on it.
"Arthur!" Bogemu called out, raising his hand. This sudden and seemingly nonsensical declaration stunned the swordsman while he was still trying to come up with a card game term that began with the letter Q. A beam of light enlightened the magician, helping his skin regain a lively pink hue while fixing his wounds enough to help him stretch his back. The arrow that once penetrated his chest was now gone and there was no sign on his clothes or body that it had ever pierced him to begin with.
"How did you win that game?" the red-eyed swordsman reared his teeth in bewilderment.
"As I suspected, a mere symbol isn't enough to relay complex information like a category of things. It merely gave us something to work with. You could say that a ball represents sports, but I instead imagined a boy that would play with such a ball, named "Arthur". Because you didn't object to my guess, the game, having read my intent, considered the answer correct," Bogemu smiled while admiring his rejuvenated body and newly gained victory. By winning his opponent's game, he earned the initiative to move in the game.
"And had I objected to your call?" the samurai wondered.
"Obviously, we'd have had to debate on the matter and see whose side the game would have taken. Now, stand back, it is my turn to roll the dice!" Bogemu smiled while pointing both his hands up as if begging for the favor of the dice and Lady Fortune herself. The blazing dice rattled and rested in the position of two 6. "Excellent, that's a double. This means that I get to draw a Wild Card from the space I end up in, then roll again, instead of playing the game."
"I assume that is a good thing?" the pink-haired samurai raised an eyebrow.
"It might be. While drawing a Wild Card allows me to skip the game of my space, Wild Cards are just that–they can be good or bad," Bogemu shrugged, jumping up in the air lightly and riding a jet of solid flame to the space exactly 12 spaces further from where he stood. An infernal deck with steep tips and metal, cackling skulls breathing fire from their jowls as they chattered and beaming red light from their eyeholes shuffled and then revealed a random card.
"Hmm… Your opponent goes to the Jail Space? Well… That's just unfortunate, isn't it?" Bogemu snickered.
"Jail Space?" the samurai lost his cool, elevating his eyebrows. "What is that?"
"It's right there, in the northwestern corner of the board. Any player on the Jail Space cannot leave the Jail Space and is trapped there until freed by a Wild Card. However, you can still play games," Bogemu beamed a smile in the way of his opponent.
Infuriated but helpless to resist the unquestionable power of the board game, the swordsman in the deep blue kimono crept his way to the northwestern corner of the board and became entrapped by ethereal walls.
"Because I drew a wild card and, technically, didn't win a game, it would normally be your turn. However, even if you roll the dice, you won't be able to move, because you're jailed. The Jail Space does not have any games inherent to it, so the game is currently in a suspended state," Bogemu struck a cocky and flashy pose, feeling triumphant in the face of his opponent.
"What!? How am I supposed to break that state?" the swordsman wondered.
"Simple, during your every turn, you get to roll the dice until you roll a double. When you do, you'll break the suspended state of the game and will be able to play again," Bogemu sneered at his opponent, who still didn't fully fathom his fate.
"Very well," the swordsman looked up at the dice floating above the board and tried to command them to roll, but Bogemu only snickered.
"You fool, have you forgotten my double? That means that I am the one who's supposed to roll next. You've fallen ill to an eternally suspended game state–you cannot have a turn until you roll a double, but you cannot check for a double because it's still my turn. I was aware of this glitch in the rules, but I've never encountered it before. Mainly because there are billions of different Wild Cards and relying on one to send your opponent to jail, especially right after you rolled a double and have an inherent turn extension, is a ludicrous strategy," Bogemu laughed out.
"So now what?" the hitman gnashed his teeth, beginning to sweat knowing that the outcome of a suspended game state couldn't have meant anything good for him.
"You know exactly what–whenever you cannot proceed with a move, you get a penalty. That's one penalty for each roll. This means that you're penalized out because you've got an infinite amount of penalties by glitching the game," Bogemu elaborated.
"However, you too cannot perform a move. Did you forget? It is your turn, which means you should roll the dice and proceed with the game, but you cannot, not until I check for Jail Space," the Iron Country manslayer crossed his arms with a cold expression.
"Shit!" Bogemu exclaimed, breaking his flashy and cocky stance into a helpless stumble. Before his mind could submerge into the bottomless pit of despair, wandering what could have been the conditions of such a suspended game state, a beam of light lit up over his head. This made Bogemu break into manic laughter–this was the light of victory.
"What is that?" the young swordsman wondered.
"Don't you understand? I won!" Bogemu pumped his fist. "It appears that in the case of a double inherently suspended game state, the game checks each player's victories and penalties and decides the winner."
"Then why did you win? Both of us won one game?" the hitman raised his right eyebrow in bewilderment.
"Not quite, I lost a game, and I won a game. You never won a game, remember? You've never received a reward because our first game was a Penalty Game. I merely received one penalty and then a reward. The result is still 1 of my win against 0 of yours!" Bogemu posed megalomaniacally in front of his beaten opponent as the game board vanished in walls of wildfire and the dice above them burst into flocks of sparks. "Now, as the victor, I get to decide your fate. And your fate is the same to which you've tried to subject me–getting sliced into ribbons and falling out of bounds!"
"W-Wait!" the swordsman tried to object, but reality came washing back in like a tidal wave. The very moment that time resumed, grievous wounds burst open on the samurai's body, spilling geysers of blood in all directions while the hitman, conveniently placed above the edge of the arena, tripped and fell out of bounds with a dull and spaced out look in his eyes.
"Oh my! It appears that the magician Bogemu Uneyotsu has played his Game of Life again! While we haven't seen the game itself, his opponent–Hashin Tamasatsu, a samurai from the Iron Country, has been eliminated! We've got 49 competitors left!" the announcer counted in the elimination while healers rushed off to sail across the artificial lake of water to pull the bloody body out and do their best to put the eviscerated young swordsman back together.