The crackling of the fire in the cozy room’s hearth filled the air, creating a warm and comfortable atmosphere. Jenkins gave Hathaway a strange look; she had been acting unusually flustered ever since she received her character card.
Given the ga's nature so far, the rule stating "the characters are real people" was surely not just a line to enhance imrsion, he thought. Could Hathaway have drawn Briny's character? Is she afraid of revealing her true identity to the four of us, or is she worried this ga will play out in the real world at the sa ti?
As these thoughts raced through his mind, Jenkins felt a pang of concern for Hathaway. But his worry didn't last long. When his turn ca, he rolled two heavy dice, landing on a fifty. On the silver plaque he picked up, the na Briny Mikhail was clearly inscribed, along with her details.
"ow~"
Chocolate craned its neck to get a look at the small plaque in Jenkins’s hand. Even though Jenkins was certain the cat was illiterate, it still seed curious.
Jenkins fought to keep the corner of his mouth from twitching. He noticed that his friends, having received their own character cards, all seed a little unsettled. He cleared his throat and asked:
"So, you all didn't happen to draw the card of an acquaintance, did you?"
Silence answered him—a clear, unspoken confirmation. Jenkins didn't reveal what was on his own plaque, turning instead to Hathaway, who had organized this gathering.
Hathaway remained silent for a long mont before finally sharing the information in her hand.
"My character is Jenkins Williams, the famous author. I'm one of his... readers. I'm a big fan of his books."
This revelation astonished Jenkins even more than drawing Briny's card himself. He reined in his confusion and concern, growing more curious about what Hathaway's plaque said. It was supposed to list the character's basic information—skills that could be used in the ga, like archaeology.
Next, the Hooded Man announced he had drawn a forr admirer, the daughter of a rchant. Magic Miss said she had gotten a companion she'd t on her travels a decade ago—a noblewoman from the Cheslan Kingdom, a viscountess. Mr. White Cat awkwardly explained that his card was for a childhood acquaintance, a peer who was now a sailor. Finally, Jenkins told the group he had drawn a regular at a bakery he’d invested in, the noble Miss Briny Mikhail.
It was painfully obvious to all five of them that everyone was lying. But since they were all complicit, they maintained a silent pact and refrained from asking for any specific details about one another's characters.
"Then let's begin the ga."
Hathaway's voice was unnervingly deep, and Jenkins was genuinely worried she might collapse at any mont. Everyone placed their tal plaques and rulebooks to their right, signaling the end of the preparation phase. As they did, a much louder grinding of gears and whirring of pistons erupted from beneath the table.
Countless grid lines instantly materialized on the smooth surface of the table. A closer look revealed that the tabletop had always been composed of perfectly fitted square wooden blocks; they were just joined so seamlessly that the seams had been invisible before.
The wooden blocks that ford the tabletop rose and fell, ultimately assembling a panoramic model of an abandoned hospital that Jenkins found vaguely familiar. Once the scene locked into place, five figurines ascended from below the surface, positioning themselves at the hospital's main gate.
It was blocked by a locked iron gate, a way in that Jenkins and the professor had never used.
No one spoke, all of them waiting in silence. After a mont, a strange sound ca from the corner of the room by the door. The floorboards there seed to open like a trapdoor, and a middle-aged man climbed out. He wore a simple hospital gown, and his skin was so deathly pale he hardly looked human.
"Hello, everyone. I am the host for this ga."
He flashed them a rigid smile, revealing a mouth missing several teeth. His voice was raspy, enough to make one's skin crawl, but what truly sent a chill down Jenkins's spine was what he said after taking the empty seat at the table:
"During the course of the ga, you may call the 'Corpse Gentleman.' Now, let the ga begin!"
Jenkins had to fight to control his expression and actions. He'd recognized the man the mont he crawled out of the floor, and when the Corpse Gentleman sat down across from him, he almost drew his sword on instinct.
Although they had no personal quarrel, Jenkins knew just how dangerously strange this level-eight demigod was. He had thought he’d already seen the full extent of the Corpse Gentleman's unsettling abilities, but he'd never anticipated a "surprise" quite like this.
He felt his breath catch in his throat. He couldn't tell if the Corpse Gentleman was an original component of B-11-1-0299, [Story Within a Story], or if he had used his own power to forcefully intrude upon this Series B event.
Either possibility was equally terrifying.
"May the Sage protect ," Jenkins prayed inwardly. "May Your light illuminate the path ahead."
Jenkins hadn't felt this tense since he'd reached the fifth level. His companions were completely oblivious, but he knew with chilling certainty that this adventure was going to be anything but simple.
"Please wait, esteed... Corpse Gentleman,"
the Hooded Man suddenly interjected, pulling Jenkins from his internal turmoil. He posed a crucial question:
"Since this story is set in the real Nolan, with real people, and even takes place today... does that an the people we're controlling have actually appeared at the gates of that so-called abandoned hospital right now?"
he asked, his voice laced with deep concern.
Jenkins had wondered the sa thing initially, but now he was certain the real people hadn't been transported to the hospital. After all, he was sitting right here, not standing at its gates.
"No, of course not."
The Corpse Gentleman's voice was as disquieting as ever. He stared blankly at the Hooded Man, who instinctively flinched.
"The real people are not participating in this ga, nor will they have any mory of it. However, the ultimate fate your characters et at the story's conclusion will, once the ga is over, truly befall the people you controlled."
"So you're saying, if our character dies..."
Hathaway asked.
"Yes. The real person will die as well."
the Corpse Gentleman replied. Jenkins was now genuinely afraid Hathaway would faint. From her perspective, Briny was in the hands of a stranger, this Candle Mr.
Jenkins worried for Briny, too. He had no idea what was about to happen and could only hope that his own luck would hold, or that the "Jenkins Williams" under Hathaway's control was powerful enough to survive.
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