by Yuu Kamiya
Taking Shiro’s hand, lifting it as if in oath, Sora.
“Your fine nation, the Eastern Union, of Rank Fourteen, the Werebeasts, has been chosen as the first sacrifice in our path of glorious global conquest, and for this we celebrate. Now, in a battle of nations, we demand—”
With a smile of blatant hostility, he announced transcendently.
“—everything on the continent you bitches have.”
—At these words, everyone’s eyes, except Sora’s and Shiro’s, opened wide. Even Ino, and even Izuna, who had been spaced out until then, changed their countenance. It was just—too unhinged a demand.
“Oh, and what we’re betting is still Steph’s panties, FYI.”
“Ex-excuse me?!”
“Too bad you didn’t shake on Izzy’s panties while you had the chance, Grandpa.”
The wagers were all the territory the Eastern Union had on the continent—and Stephanie Dola’s panties? As even Jibril began to wonder about the mental soundness of the man before them, Sora continued with completely unwavering confidence.
“Sorry, Gramps—it’s check.”
While all sat at a loss as to the meaning of his words. Perhaps having the most courage, or perhaps out of obedience to her curiosity, Jibril asked.
“Ma-Master, ehm, what do you mean?”
“Huh? You still don’t get it?”
“…Oh…”
Shiro came out of deep thought with a voice.
“Now that’s Shiro; you got it, right? Yeah—so this means the Eastern Union is trapped.”
But, as still no one but Sora and Shiro seemed to grasp the meaning of his words, Sora spoke listlessly.
“Mm, okay, I’ll explain for you all, including this self-professed mind-reading grampa.
“The Eastern Union, half a century back, rapidly developed a high level of technology… But it can be tough to be an advanced civilization.”
Settling deep into the sofa—the nice, springy sofa, Sora continued.
“The TV in this room, the elevator back there, this sofa… all this modern technology isn’t possible without continental resources. They’re their lifeline, no kidding. But the Eastern Union started as an island nation. They had to get their hands on those continental resources any way they could—but, before that, Elven Gard challenged them.
“What a pickle! The only trick they had was taking challenges, but, then, if they beat the greatest country in the world, then no one would take on their mysterious unbeatable game, and they wouldn’t get the continent. But they couldn’t lose—why is this?”
With a broad grin, Sora put up a finger.
“Now, let’s unravel the puzzle step by step. Question one: Why did they need to erase memories of an unbeatable game?”
Shiro answered this question.
“…Because…if they didn’t…it wouldn’t be unbeatable…anymore.”
Why would the Eastern Union incorporate a demand that contradicted their strategy of taking challenges? It must have been because, despite its downside, they had to. If they intentionally lost to Elven Gard, then their game would be revealed—and then it would cease to be unbeatable.
“But there’s still a hole, even then.”
To erase all memories of the game—certainly that seemed the best possible way to make it impossible to counter. And yet.
“Even if you erase their memories—you can’t get rid of the result that they lost.”
Jibril gasped, while Ino remained expressionless.
“Now let’s move on. Question two: Why did Elven Gard step up four times?”
“…After losing…they tried to break down…the unbeatable game… from the results?”
Indeed—Unlike Elkia, Elven Gard was a vast country. To brace themselves for a few losses in scouting was but a small matter for them.
“After losing once, Elven Gard must have guessed that it was a game where you couldn’t use magic. For Elf to lose, you know, that’s pretty much the first thing one would think of.”
Raising a finger, Sora continued.
“Still not knowing what the game was, with their memories erased—but knowing that it must be a game that annulled magic—the second time, they got someone outside to cast magic while they played. But then they lost anyway. And so, the third time, they probably uncovered the nature of the game by some method.”
Jeez, if only I could use some crazy official cheat like magic, went Sora.
“And so they went in for the long-awaited fourth time—but they lost. Amirite, Gramps?”
“……You certainly have an impressive imagination.”
While Ino responded as though Sora’s guess was nothing more than a guess. Yet thinking he could beat Sora in a battle of bluffs—that was the greatest blunder. Picking up on the faint waver in his expression, Sora smiled and held up two fingers.
“But this raises two issues. First, why did Elven Gard lose? And then this is the big one—why didn’t they try again?”
—Indeed. The question wasn’t why they tried. It was why they stopped trying. Information too big to overlook in a game where the result of having lost told everything.
“There are two possibilities. One is that they realized that the game was theoretically impossible to win.”
Then lowering one of his fingers.
“The other—that they figured out the game, but they couldn’t figure out why they lost.”
With a laugh and a confident smile, Sora said.
“—But, in the first case, they’d win if they uncovered it. Which means it must be the second.”
Jibril, of Rank Six, Flügel, felt a chill of awe down her spine. Sora’s reasoning was supported and supplemented by all the fragments of information that Jibril knew. Such extraordinary, even godlike powers of reasoning—.
“But that makes things confusing. A game that can be understood without understanding why you lost?”
Sora, grinning drily, that’s weird, how could that be?
“The key to unravel this mystery—we just got from you, Gramps.”
Into Ino’s eyes. The eyes of Werebeast, who claimed to read minds, Sora peered with an ironic smile.
“Question three: Why would you lie that you can read minds?”
“…Because they can’t…”
Nodding to Shiro’s immediate answer, Sora.
“And they must have to lie because that implies something they can’t let anyone know, right?
“Are you starting to see it yet? Question four: What kind of game looks like you can win in theory but actually makes you lose?”
Sora, apparently having fun.
“—Now, here’s a hint!”
With theatrical gesture as if enjoying telling a riddle.
“Flügel, Elf, Immanity. It makes all these races of entirely different characteristics lose every time, it can only be used in defense, it requires erasing opponents’ memories, it’s good for a race with superior technology who can’t read minds—what is it?!”
With a glance toward the TV, Shiro answered.
“…A video game…with all cheats enabled…”
It appeared that neither Steph nor Jibril understood the answer. That was no surprise: The Eastern Union must be the only country in the world that knew the concept of video games. This was why—they had to erase memories to conceal them. This was why they could never lose.
—With video games, with them as the game masters. They could cheat all they wanted, do whatever they wanted, and there was no way—
—anyone would know.
“This makes even magic pointless… Well, well, now that’s a tech nation; not bad?”
In these words from Sora was not the sound of irony, but that of genuine praise.
“All that big talk about reading minds was to give ’em something to quell the question they’d be left with as the result of losing—Why did we lose?—so they wouldn’t come searching. All you guys can do is to tell when someone’s lying—you can’t read minds.”
Yes—it was exactly the same as what Sora was good at. Seeing through expressions, gestures, voices to the lies behind them. They just were able to use their outrageous senses to incorporate heartbeats, blood flow. It was exactly the same, logically, as how a talented fraudster would pass themselves off as a spiritualist.
“……”
—Bull’s-eye. Ino, struck dead on, had no words to say. However, without showing it on his face, he was being eaten away by doubts. Until Sora—first realized they couldn’t read minds. That is, even during all that crap talk about Izuna’s panties and such. Sora showed no reaction of unease whatsoever. It seemed it could only be that he had eliminated from the start the risk that his mind would be read. But, to those thoughts, ironically. As if—yes. As if reading his mind, Sora answered.
“Ain’t it weird, Gramps; I never showed any reaction to your bluff from the beginning.”
Erk, Ino’s expression almost went, or did it? As this alone filled Ino’s mind, Sora continued snidely.
“Yes. I knew you guys couldn’t read minds—from the beginning. How could this be?”
And now, for the final question—went Sora.
“Question five: Why did our previous king lose to you as many as eight times?”
Shiro, Steph, and Jibril knew the answer to this question. Therefore—
“This question—is for you, you hairy old shit. You gotta have some idea.”
“—…!”
—Their previous king? He was the only one who’d played the Eastern Union without having his memory erased, when they took their continental domain from him. But they played on the condition that he wouldn’t tell anyone; how could—
—Wait, no. It wasn’t that; it was—! As if waiting for Ino’s thoughts to reach that, Sora grinned, and then spoke.
“Yeah, you got it, huh? The fact that the previous king was able to tell us all about it is the proof that you couldn’t read his intention—you couldn’t read his thoughts.”
Which were—.
“—That his covenant not to tell anyone his whole life—didn’t cover after he died.”
As Ino tried to hold up his mask of calm, he could feel his blood draining. Were that the case—. It would mean that this man, truly—knew everything about their games. If it were exposed, the Eastern Union would be.
“So, you get the picture now, Gramps?”
Grinning ear to ear and continuing idly.
“Now you’re in a tough spot, huh? You have to erase my memory somehow. But if you play me betting your continental domain just for Steph’s panties, you’ll basically be admitting I’m right.”
Yes—and so. The move Ino should make was a given. In this situation—
“You’re gonna dismiss everything I’ve said as crazy rambling—that’s your only choice, to turn down the game and run.”
Sora intercepted Ino’s thoughts mercilessly. Like a hunter giddily cornering his prey.
—And said: “Did you think I’d leave you an avenue of escape?”
“We bet all of Immanity—the Race Piece.”
The moment Sora said it, before his eyes materialized a game piece, shining softly, as if made of light. Yes, it was…what, in this world where even the God was decided by games, was required to challenge the God—one of sixteen pieces to collect, by conquest of all the races.
—The Immanity Piece. The piece of Immanity—was the king.
—No one there had beheld it. Even Jibril, who had lived for six thousand years, was seeing a Race Piece with her own eyes for the first time. This made sense. For, in all the games played in the ages since the Ten Covenants. No one had ever bet a Race Piece, for it meant to wager all the rights of the race. In the event of a loss, it was tantamount to consigning the race to enslavement for eternity. In other words, it meant—the end.
“A-are you in—gmph?!”
Steph, who seemed to have finally grasped the situation, was about to scream, “Are you insane?” when Jibril deftly grabbed her by the mouth.
—With this, a wager was made of the piece of a race in one more struggle for continental territory.
“With this, you’ll also tell the world I’m right if you run?”
Thus, with a smile, Sora looked into the eyes of a Werebeast who claimed to read minds—
“Look, it’s check again—no, now it’s checkmate.”
—showing Ino no trace of fear, and spoke without humility.
“—Did you see this coming, Gramps?”
As Sora grinned, a line of sweat fell from Ino’s brow.
—What was this? For the lowest of races, a race down to its last city, about to bet their Race Piece and lose everything, to initiate a challenge against the Eastern Union, which had an unbeatable game, and on top of that to seize the upper hand. Cornering them logically—what was going on?
But—Ino, just barely regaining his composure—no, feigning it—answered.
“I can only applaud your remarkable imagination. However, King Sora, isn’t there something you’ve overlooked?”
Ino struck back at the desperation in his heart with his one unshakable fact.
“Even assuming this fantasy of yours is true—would that not mean that Elven Gard lost even under such conditions?”
—It was true that the Eastern Union had been put into a spot in which they had to accept this match. But, if one assumed Sora’s interpretation to be correct, it was simply a challenge against the Eastern Union to a game in which they could cheat all they wanted. Just as before, there was no question that they would take away a certain victory—but. To this, Sora only sneered and answered:
“Gramps, if you’d known how I managed to communicate with you from the library—if you could really read my thoughts, you wouldn’t just be pretending you knew, but showing surprise openly.”
Looking into Ino’s eyes, and, as if tripping him up. Sora, with an extremely malicious smile. Played his ultimate trump card.
“That we’re—not humans of this world.”
—That, in their old world, among the countless rumors, there was one about a gamer emerging unbeaten in over 280 games, ascending to urban legend—Ino couldn’t see.
—That even cheats and tool assists wouldn’t be enough to beat them…
“……”
Reflexively, Ino tried to dismiss it as a lie. But in no motion or sound of Sora’s was there a reaction indicating a lie. If his words were a lie, it would mean that this man could lie without reacting in the slightest. If his words were the truth, it would demonstrate, just as the man said, that he couldn’t read minds.
“……!”
In either case—Ino was left with nothing to say. Yeah, that’s what I thought, Sora seemed to laugh.
“When I came, I bet you thought, ‘Here comes a sucker,’ just like the old king?”
But—.
“—Sorry, but, this time, it’s your turn to suck it—Werebeast.”
From the heartbeat of Immanity’s king as he said this. Ino could sense no reaction other than conviction, so he merely gulped.
“So.”
—As Sora stood up, and everyone rushed to imitate him.
“That’s all. Welll, I know you probably don’t have the authority to make some craaazy wager like your entire continental domain on your own, so why don’t you go check with the big guys back home and then let me know when we’re playing.”
Oh, yeah—he added.
“This goes without saying, but, for a game betting the Race Piece, all members of Immanity have a right to watch. Make sure you get the venue and equipment set up for that? Also, we’re going to take you on as a team of four. You don’t get to say anything about it, so see ya.”
Sora, singing this merrily, waved to Izuna, still seated across from him.
“Nice meeting ya, Izzy; next time we’re gonna play, yeah?”
“…I don’t get this shit, please. But—”
But without a trace of the warmth she had just been showing.
“Sora, and Shiro—you’re…trying to pick a fight, please?”
Her eyes were those of one with an investment staring down an enemy. Of one with a duty to protect something—of an animal poised for battle.
“A fight? Naww. Just a game.”
Though Sora said this, still Izuna stared with keen eyes.
“Still makes us enemies, please.”
Her eyes filling with clear hostility, the little Werebeast girl growled:
“You’re goin’ down, please.”
Yet Sora responded with eyes that in contrast felt friendly.
“Sorry, but you are going down, Izuna, without a doubt. Blank doesn’t lose.”
“…Bye-bye… Izzy, see you later…”
As if chasing the siblings as they playfully and wispily waved and left, Jibril followed, lifting up Steph, still covering her mouth as she struggled. Watching the backs of these four as they walked out of the reception chamber, watching the door close as they pressed the elevator button without hesitation, Ino Hatsuse and Izuna Hatsuse could say nothing…
“Wh-wh-what have you dooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooone!!”
Just as they got back to the castle, Steph screamed this, as Sora covered his ears.
“Wh-wh-why did you just do that without saying anything in advance!!”
“If I did, you’d have said no, right?”
At Sora, telling her as he sat on the throne playing a wireless match with Shiro on their DSPs, Steph roared furiously.
“O-of of course I would have! D-do you even understand what you’ve done?”
“I blocked the enemy’s escape by putting the lives of three million Immanities on the line.”
—So? Sora seemed to say as he answered blankly. Steph, almost at a loss, somehow managed to squeeze out:
“A-a-and just how do you intend to take responsibility if you lose?”
But—at the words that came back.