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Chapter Text

Why the fuck was Ikeno dealing with this nonsense again? Swinging in the border between life and death in the most stupid way ever—playing games. He swore he wouldn't be caught dead—or whatever he was just then—in that place one more time after almost seeing the pearly gates five years ago... or, on second thought, hell's fiery ones. After barely surviving the first time, what could make him think he would get away the second?

Not like it was a voluntary decision. He was just trying to live his life normally, slowly getting used to going to therapy after that fucking meteorite hit in Shibuya and he kept having those weird dreams. It was only after returning to the setting of those nightmares that he realized they were far more real than he could remember. That annoying illness's fault, he was sure. Coronary artery disease, which increased his likelihood of going into cardiac arrest—just another problem to add to the pile, really. Hopefully he'd save up enough money for the treatment once he won those irritating games. But whatever, he had to focus more on not instantly dying at that point.

His first game back in the Borderlands was rather... stressful. Something he'd rather forget once again. Definitely harder than the face cards—but worse than that were the multiple kilometer walks they had all players do without even sparing them a day to rest. At least last time they had the decency to let them live for a while before nearly meeting with death again.

And not even the afternoon after, his legs were already hurting from going to a research facility—more than a dozen kilometers away—by foot. A couple minutes earlier than sundown, he was already there—though he wasn't alone anymore. Some other people were standing there in front of a TV, stiffly waiting for anything to happen.

Just by a quick glance at the place, he could tell the game would be boring. A squeaky-clean, all-white place with an almost eerie lighting. All furniture shone under those cold fluorescents quietly buzzing overhead and the bright LEDs scattered around the room. A round table with playing cards—not only boring but also exasperatedly sleep-inducing—right next to the large screen.

And on top of everything... all at a virus research institution. Really? Not even an apocalypse could make these places just a smidge more interesting. Besides, Tokyo's far too big for that to be the best option, isn't it? Maybe he could have some fun with the lab rats, or whatever. There weren't any other attractive options from what he could come up with. With some luck, he would find a conveniently visible and working CAD treatment—yeah, no. That was only delusion. Desperation at its finest. But he could only hope for stuff to get at least a bit interesting.

He joined the silent wait, slowly stepping towards the small group and standing there in the center of the room. After standing there with his arms crossed for probably some of the longest seconds in his life, he began thinking they had to do something for the game to start. No instructions yet, no player limit announced... They probably just had to keep doing nothing until getting some sort of sign—that kept taking awfully long.

Suddenly, he heard a noise behind him. He swiftly turned his head in that direction, curious to see if something was actually going on. False alarm. There were just more players coming. Ikeno's eyes followed as the new arrivals wandered next to them, slowly walking to integrate themselves into the group.

There were around ten people—no idea, no will to have any; he didn't bother counting—that seemed to go together, probably having met in the first game. A guy in a blue shirt led the way, his brow raised in curiosity. “Well, looks like we're not the only ones here,” he muttered, observing everyone's faces.

Ikeno glanced back at all of them for a couple more seconds, but upon hearing the PA chime along with the TV screen turning bright white, he turned his head—and his attention—somewhere else. “Game: Zombie Hunt.” He didn't bother turning around when he heard one of the new guys repeat the game name in confusion.

He blinked twice before the instructions were explained to them, providing old-school-style visuals on the TV so they were easier to understand. “Rules: Each of the participants will now receive seven playing cards each. You are to use these cards to play one-on-one games. The games are to be played at designated tables installed throughout this facility. In these games, you will play cards from the same suit from the hand dealt to you. The one with the highest cumulative total wins the game. The winning player then receives one card from the losing player.”

At least they weren't normal card games. He realized—they hadn't told them the game's suit or difficulty; not now, not in his last game. What the fuck did that even mean? Were these just special games without a specified description?His questions—that he probably wouldn't come up with an answer to—were interrupted by someone else speaking up. “The one with the highest total wins. The game seems pretty simple.” It was one of the new people, an old dude in a red shirt who looked around as if searching for approval from his obvious observation.

“So what's this got to do with zombies?” the confused boy in a blue jacket from before asked. It didn't take too long for his question to be answered by the PA.

“This game also contains three special cards. The first one... the Zombie card. Only one person from each group will receive the Zombie card. The Zombie card trumps every other card in the deck. It's an instant win. The losing player then becomes infected by the zombie, and a Zombie card is added to their hand. There is a card in the deck to stop the zombies from multiplying. The Shotgun card. The Shotgun card is used to kill zombies. Each player from each team is guaranteed to receive a Shotgun card.”

Ikeno's lips curled up into a smirk at the realization that every single player had a chance to eliminate someone else. Yes, that only made the game harder, maybe even scarier for some people—but how can a game be interesting without a motivation? The real games in this place were the actually risky ones.

“You can use the Shotgun card even if the Zombie card is not placed on the table,” the PA continued. “The Shotgun card can only be used once, then it disappears. The card is also ineffective towards humans. If you prefer a peaceful method for stopping the zombies, there is the Vaccine card. The Vaccine card will be distributed randomly between members of each group. When this card is played, it cancels out the Zombie card placed on the table, and it turns the zombie back into a human. However, you cannot use the Vaccine card on yourself. Use both of these cards to stop the zombies from multiplying.”

It wasn't rocket science; the game's objective was to simply end all zombies—kill or be killed. They literally said it: “Stop the zombies from multiplying.” As soon as someone got infected, they'd be under gunpoint. And Ikeno was sure he wasn't going to put himself in a vulnerable position.

“The game ends after twenty rounds. Those of you who run out of number cards during these twenty rounds will be eliminated.” The room was briefly tinted with a red light coming from the TV for a second, filling the whole screen with a solid hue along with a ‘GAME OVER’ text.

“Zombies or humans, the side with the most players at the end of the game wins. The side with the fewest players will be eliminated.” His theory was confirmed when a visual of the zombie team dying was shown to the players. It was clear the only way to win was to remain human at all costs and get rid of all zombies; Ikeno knew that. “Teams will enter this game through the four entrances of the research facility, with only one team allowed at each entrance.”

A map showed up, simple drawings of small groups of people being shown on-screen, each at a corner of the building. “So that means there are other teams,” the red-shirt guy pointed out again. Did this guy do anything but useless observations?

“There is also one zombie in each of the other teams. Ready. Game start.” The PA emitted some loud buzzer sounds, a loud way to announce it wasn’t all fun anymore—just games. “Players, please take your cards.”

There were just four people to get rid of, either through Vaccines or Shotguns. Easy. Ikeno was the first to relaxedly walk towards the playing cards displayed on top of the circular table, grabbing a random hand towards the middle. Some other people stopped standing still and followed a couple seconds after—then the PA suddenly chimed. “First round, start. Choose your opponent. Touch them, and then move to the game table.”

He examined his cards for a second... not bad, he could work with it—and, most importantly, no Zombie card. Phew. His gaze shifted from his hand to instead look up at the guy who was right in front of him. Was he really going to have to be the first to do everything? Nothing got done in that place if someone didn't step up, that was common knowledge for all past players—yet he seemed to be the only one brave enough to do so. Without hesitation, he hit his shoulder and led the way to the door where they'd find the places to play at, taking a detour through the crowd, all without saying a word. Those formalities would only be a waste of time.

They both sat down at the table in silence, then got instructed to start playing. “Please place your cards.” Ikeno went for a safe play, laying all his cards with the most added-up total in each of the spaces instructed. The other man did the same, his look appearing expressionless and his mouth glued shut. Ikeno was thankful for that—he didn't want to make this game even more boring with irritating small talk.

“Show your cards.” First win, done. Yes, only by a couple points, but it was still a win nonetheless. He grasped one of the loser's cards—the one with the highest value—quickly got up from his chair, and left. Well, that was quick.

One more round went by, and nothing interesting happened. Ikeno won again after using his newly acquired card—and thus getting a new one; evidently, he hadn't encountered any of the four zombies yet (or maybe more if they were quick). Seeing there were eighteen rounds left of that same repeating boredom, in that annoyingly narrow space... this was going to be one somniferous hell of a game. A change-up was needed.

When going back to the TV located at the south wing, he walked with those long-legged steps of his towards the screen that displayed the facility's map. “It's really cramped up here. There are other game tables on the lower floor.” He pointed at all of them one by one, suggesting going to any of them—because anything could be better than that place you could walk around completely in just ten steps. “We could use it as our base.”

“Good idea. There's lots of room,” another unimportant guy said. At least the people there agreed with his ideas... Obviously. Who would want to keep restricting their mobility when there were way better options?

They all agreed to go to the floor below them, Ikeno quickly rushing downstairs and leading the way. The steps creaked under the weight of his sturdy stomps, eager to find somewhere he could freely move around in.

When there weren't any more stairs to play percussion on, Ikeno found himself at a huge, open room illuminated by countless LEDs, with tables filled with scientific equipment and more playing stations behind curtains. There were also some smaller rooms with glass walls—they definitely had lots of places to go around in and hopefully not die out of boredom. And there were also cages with lab rats, for some reason. Look at that, some entertainment (like he'd predicted).

“Whew! This place is huge!” he laughed, carelessly running around in amusement and looking at the room's entirety—or as much as he could.

He was relieved to at least have some variety—considering that most of the game's rounds were still left, what were they supposed to do in that place so small that it could give him claustrophobia at any moment, especially when they had all that to explore? There was finally enough space to at least lift his arms up without hitting anyone—but he dropped them again, not even a second after, when he realized just how stupid he probably looked. Running around with his arms up. What was this, a coming-of-age movie?

Of course, they didn't get rid of the PA announcements. “Third round. Start.” Before anyone could even think of choosing their opponents, another team ran downstairs, surprising everyone with their shouting, shocked there even was another group there as if they weren't warned. Even so, they didn't hesitate to show their eagerness to be the ones to choose their opponents first, quickly sprinting towards them.

A random guy hit Ikeno's arm, forcing him to play against him. Pretty much a stupid choice—he lost. Three rounds down, and Ikeno hadn't lost any; if he were to get eliminated, he was sure it wouldn't be because of a lack of playing cards.

Chapter Text

Boring-ass game. Seeing just the same uninteresting people—with eyes so emotionless you might've thought they were already dead—over and over. Ikeno could've as well fallen asleep before even getting the chance of winning.

The blue-shirt guy from the very beginning seemed to agree somehow, telling everyone else that they should scatter around the place to find even more players. However, in the way of explaining an overcomplicated plan—expecting everyone else to follow. Leader complex, apparently. “In order to stop the zombies from multiplying, we need to identify the random players who have received a Vaccine card. This will be the key step to ensure victory. So far in our group, we haven't confirmed the existence of a Vaccine card. And that means there's a high chance the holder is among the players of the other teams,” he theorized, pointing to the other locations in the map.

None of that was necessary. Ikeno wasn't a zombie himself, so he didn't give a shit. The infected guy in his team could go to hell; whoever he was, it didn't matter as long as the humans remained a majority. Even so, that smarty didn't seem to care... he did have a point, though. Finding more people wouldn't be so bad. So they did end up helping his strategy take place. Turns out it wasn't that hard to become the leader—just stepping up first was enough to have people following behind. Something Ikeno could get behind of himself.

They went around the facility, looking for possible opponents—or, in Ikeno's case, someone worth sparing some attention to. But everyone had the same obvious lack of rest and style. So he settled for whoever it was that decided to tap his shoulder when the PA instructed everyone to choose who they'd play against. A random woman Ikeno didn't really notice much of. She seemed nervous, like someone weak and afraid to lose—but weren't they all? The point was who knew how to act properly and who actually decided to show their weakness and opt to become a target. The latter being people like her.

So it was unexpected when she won the round by just one point. She did gift him some kindness when taking Ikeno's smallest card, worth just the difference that made her achieve the victory. Zero survival skills. Why would anyone care about someone else if that meant putting their own life at risk? Whatever, it didn't matter. People's stupidity only helped Ikeno step closer to victory.

First defeat—yet unimportant, easy to brush off and recover from. When they came out of the booth, you might've even thought he won. His relaxed, laid-back walk back to the common room radiated as much confidence as it would've after an astounding victory—or at least that's what he tried his best to make it look like.

He walked around the room, only ever glancing at the spotless furniture—because it was way more entertaining than talking to any of the boring people in that place. Another round went by, another “Players, please choose your opponent and touch them,” and another win. And another yawn.

The game being seemingly unable to get more interesting wasn't just a thought; it was a fact—until he couldn't even have coherent thoughts anymore. A new woman appeared, standing out like a spotlight was lighting up her whole body and a look that could light up the whole world, at least in Ikeno's eyes.

He tried remaining calm—or at least pretending to—but couldn't even blink while shifting his gaze to examine her whole silhouette. Finally someone with even a smidge of personal style in this place. Her two-tone cyan and blue bob made her stand out from the unoriginal crowd, therefore making it easier for Ikeno to draw all his attention towards her. Somehow, a thin streak of eyeliner managed to survive the first game along with her, bringing attention to her deep eyes that made the man's heart skip a beat. Fuck. He didn't think anyone's gaze would be able to make him feel that way, but that sparkling, sharp look that only invited him to keep staring and plead for half a second of eye contact was definitely something else.

She wandered around confidently yet also relaxedly—as if she were an animated character with calculated, graceful movements instead of an actual person. There was this sort of feeling that she radiated, like she had an eerie aura to herself... strange, but almost hypnotizing, in a way.

To sum it up, she looked like a weirdo. A weirdo interesting enough to drive Ikeno crazy—in just the right ways. But the only thing she did to Ikeno was momentarily get his attention, nothing else. Hopefully. Because the real focus here was winning the game—which she would probably help with, considering she and the group she just joined seemed to want to share a strategy.

After they got everyone's attention, they suggested sitting somewhere nearby, as it was a long explanation—one that Ikeno spent struggling to process most of the information. How was he supposed to think properly when thousands of notions kept flashing in his mind so quickly he couldn't even come close to processing them?

He kept twiddling his thumbs absentmindedly, only catching a general idea of the—again, way too complicated—plan while mostly trying to look at least decent in that girl's presence. Not because of anything, though; probably just making a good first impression.

Basically, the strategy was making some kind of a trust barricade and harmlessly curing any zombies within the group. To prove their point further, they shared that blue-bob girl had both a Vaccine and a Zombie card.

The leader complex guy (Arisu, apparently) was the one to take the lead and explain zombiegirl's plan—of course she was the one to come up with it; apart from being a weirdo, she did kind of look like a nerd of some sort—and Ikeno didn't quite know if it was the barricade in itself that was difficult to understand or if the guy was just shit at explaining. What he did know was that Arisu didn't seem to want to take the easy route whatsoever. Annoying already. “We repeat the same process and promise with multiple people. And in this way, we create a unified group built on trust. If you become a zombie, we will cure you with the vaccine.”

It didn't seem like a bad shortcut to victory, however. Ikeno nodded slightly when Arisu finally shut up. “I see,” he mumbled while getting up from his chair nearby a table. He inhaled, still questioning his decision slightly, but he eventually sucked it up and made up his mind. “Okay, I'm in.”

People followed, joining as if he opened the path for them—or just made them realize they weren't the only ones willing to agree. They all parted ways, individually trying to sell their trust barricade strategy to people—the more, the better. Weird enough, he was fairly dedicated to getting the plan working, but not because of anything in particular. Or at least that's what he hoped. He just wanted to win, obviously. “The team from below is promising to use their Vaccine card on each other in order to win the game,” he explained to the other teams, looking around at their unknown faces but seeing nothing interesting. “By using the vaccine, they can turn a zombie back into a human.”

Time went by, and after gathering enough participants, they started sharing names inside the group to bond further and therefore trust everyone more. Ikeno wandered next to the new arrivals that were standing in line and introducing themselves, while he looked at them from top to bottom, almost examining them. Again, nothing. Nothing as surprising as that girl whose name he was eager to find out—Rei, meaning "a sound that describes the fresh sound of a jewel or a state of being as beautiful as one." Not that Ikeno knew anything about names, though, so he just stayed as he was.

They started locking up the infected players in those glass rooms to differentiate them and know who to use the Vaccine cards on—yet it only made Ikeno struggle to hold a giggle every time he walked past, seeing them caged as if they were actual zombies in quarantine.

As for the next rounds, it remained as boring as the beginning—some defeats, but way more victories. He would have no problem with running out of cards if he kept gathering more and more diamond cards like he'd been doing for the whole game.

As for those awkward moments in between rounds, however—he oddly found himself staring at Rei more than he seemed to control, as if there was an invisible force that kept pulling his gaze towards her against his will; and not like he could blame it on her standing out anymore, because he would've probably gotten used to it at that point. He feared there was no getting used to her. Whatever, at least he had something remotely interesting to look at.

He also found someone to talk to and play rounds against without any risk. Mano, a skimpy guy dressed in all black with a horrific bowl cut—which he opted to not mention as to not dishearten possibly his only ally in that place. Pointless small talk while having his eyes somewhere else quickly became the usual for many round in-betweens, just the two of them wandering around the place or leaning at a random table. Mediocre, but it at least kept him awake. It's not like he could allow himself to become overly attached to someone he just met in a game not even that long ago. Right?

That pattern of uninteresting chats that went nowhere was broken when Mano started theorizing about the game. “We won't be able to gather any more Vaccine cards,” Ikeno walked alongside him as he explained, gesturing into the air while the one in silence got distracted by a squeaky clean table nearby, almost as if he was testing its surface for no reason. No apparent deadly fluids—okay, he could lean against it. “I mean, we don't even know how many cards there are in total. Threatening zombies with death just isn't enough anymore.” Ikeno curiously flicked a look from the table to his eyes for what most likely was the third time since they'd met. Not even a second after, he redirected his eyes to nowhere in particular. “But there is another way of increasing our chances of survival.”

Intrigued, he made eye contact once again so he'd cut the nonsense and say what he was on about. He was starting to get tired of his eyes being used as the ping-pong ball for the match between Mano and that far-away table, but he'd reluctantly keep playing as long as it meant he'd get something from the conversation. “What is it?” he asked, flicking his head as if demanding an answer from him.

What he wasn't expecting was his heartless answer. “We simply reduce the zombie population.” Not an unpleasant surprise, nonetheless—he just didn't think someone that looked like that could have the courage to even dare suggesting that kind of stuff. Ikeno couldn't recall any other time he'd underestimated someone.

Upon hearing his simple solution, he shortly considered it—as if there was any drop of doubt in his blood—and rolled his eyes back to the side. He began nodding as he couldn't help the smirk quirking up his lip in amusement. “That's not a bad idea,” he muttered.

Suddenly, he had to stop indulging in this new ideology when some dude arrived with an announcement—a new infected guy. Yet also the perfect opportunity to put their new plan to the test.

“Okay, put him in there,” Ikeno quickly reacted, ordering to lock the zombie in one of the glass boxes he pointed at. He started walking towards the guy now behind the glass panel, leaving Mano behind without saying a word. “So who was it that turned you into a zombie?” he asked, scoffing slightly in frustration. “Do you remember?”

“Yeah, I remember,” he frantically nodded, as if he was intimidated by Ikeno’s sudden questions. Or maybe it was just because he was now in the inferior position and tried to show his loyalty to the humans.

“Ah,” Ikeno hummed while moving his head in a slow, satisfied nod. He turned around slowly, examining the faces of the crowd suddenly looking at him. The center of attention. Suspense kept building up as he ever-so-slowly moved and stayed silent before the reveal. “Let's use a shotgun,” he finally confessed his intentions bluntly after his dramatic act. Everyone's accusing eyes honed in towards him—except for Mano, who smiled slightly, probably satisfied Ikeno decided to share their plan right away.

The dude who brought the zombie just then had the most faulting stare of them all. Or maybe that's just how he looked. He seemed like one of those guys who always tried to appear tough—didn't someone say he was a yakuza? He should be used to that kind of stuff, so it was odd he seemed so opposed to the idea. You don't see a gangster chickening out upon the mention of murder every day.

Ikeno turned around towards him to see his blaming expression better while also trying to recall his name. He remembered giggling because it sounded similar to the word "yakuza" itself... Kazuya, that's right. Literally an anagram. Like he was born to kill people, and then he doesn't man up when it's time to. Fucking stupid.

He looked at him up and down slowly, as if trying to find even a smidge of determination in his body. It was about time he did what he was supposed to. “What about you?” he finally asked. “Do you think you can handle this?” the question with condescending intent left his smirking mouth and remained unanswered, lingering in the thick air. Ikeno decided to lean in closer to the point he was whispering into his ear, also increasing the pressure forced on him. Maybe that could convince him to do the work. “You'll get vaccine priority.”

A thoughtful offer that appeared more like a threat. If that didn't sell it to him, nothing would. But he was sure Kazuya would accept—not like he had any other option. Ikeno himself didn't want to get his hands dirty just yet, so it was way easier to manipulate someone else into doing the messy part.

He glanced at the drop of sweat slowly dripping down the man's face, but his expression remained blank anyway. Of course a yakuza would hide his emotions; he wouldn't be caught dead admitting he was intimidated by just... some guy. But, oh, he was. Ikeno couldn't hold back a smile as he stepped back, looking in both directions, where he only found lots of people silently observing, shock plastered all over their faces.

His gaze found Rei immediately after, sensing an ever-so-small smile on her face that started fading as soon as they made eye contact. Possibly embarrassment—however, was she embarrassed to be smiling at the situation or for Ikeno to catch her doing so? No idea. But at least he knew they were both on the same wavelength.

That annoying PA voice over the speakers finally broke the silence that washed so intensely over the place. Some flinched. Kazuya stayed still, frozen even—he knew what was coming, what he had to do (or not, if he wanted to lose basically everyone's respect). “Players, please choose your opponent and touch them.”

Showtime.

Chapter Text

Ikeno wandered around the common room after that round, waiting with his hands on his hips for updates about Kazuya. Not too long after, he watched from afar as the yakuza slowly arrived into the room with a fresh blood splash that rested untouched on his face.

“It had to be done,” he said, a low mutter that apparently conveyed no emotion. “This is the game,” he added as he walked away, unbothered, towards some other corner while the rest gasped in shock. Took long enough for some sense to be snapped into him—what, did he expect to go into the Borderlands and play games that did not involve killing? Sure, that would be easier, but where's the thrill in that?

It was finally getting interesting. Up until then, it just felt like a kid's game—but now that people started dying, however... it was starting to feel real. Possibly too real for those other shit-scared players. How did they even survive all the other games with that attitude? This was everything the game's about; it's not rocket science. It had to happen. One way or another, it would've happened. Eventually. If it wasn't Ikeno, someone else would've suggested it. Mano, for example, if he was a bit more out there. Really, if it was happening anyway, wasn't it better to speed up the process and get it over with? Delaying something you know is coming is absolutely pointless—okay, enough. Instead of just thinking, it seemed like Ikeno's mind was trying to convince itself of... something—he didn't even know. Whatever. No more explaining the obvious. Back to the game—the important subject here.

He decided to walk closer to Kazuya. Give him a standing ovation too, why not? The first killer so far should be congratulated, right? “Hey! Good job, man!” Ikeno chuckled, clapping. People quickly joined in—of course they did—Mano being one of them, giving a light applause.

“Just what you'd expect from a true yakuza,” some other guy cheered. Exactly. You'd expect a true yakuza to murder without hesitation and not shit bricks at the thought of it.

Kazuya simply walked away, nonetheless. Some people apparently just can't handle being the center of attention. At least Ikeno did. “Listen up, everyone!” he shouted, turning around to face the crowd. “The people who were turned into zombies have information about the other zombies,” he continued his explanation as he slowly wandered around with his arms crossed. He couldn't help but chuckle while the next words came out of his mouth. “It's time to get that information from the other groups.”

A doubt was heard behind him, from the random man from before. “How do we do that?” Ikeno turned his head around, then his whole body followed.

He decided to let the—obvious, he thought—question remain unanswered before scoffing out the answer. “You threaten them with Shotgun cards. That'll make 'em talk.” He flicked his head, putting emphasis on his words. A proud smile started blooming on his face, a dimple beginning to show.

“I think I like you, bro. When all this is done, come work with me,” some guy offered. His (fucking ominous for no reason) suggestion was ignored. As if he'd just go work with whoever he was and go do whatever he meant. That dude wouldn't last long in this place.

Another round went by, another safe play against Mano. The rounds themselves used to be the only entertaining part of this game, but now it was the other way around—thankfully, because Ikeno kept switching between briefly fighting other players and those exasperatingly long moments he spent fighting his tired eyelids. How fast things change... as long as someone moves a couple strings around for them to do so.

When walking back to the common room, they passed by a dead body lying on a chair. The cause of that person's death was seen as a gunshot right in the center of their forehead, at the very top of their motionless face—that would stay that way forever—above their empty eyes without a single spark or shine in them. Fascinating, truly. That zombie probably didn't even get a chance to process they'd die before getting shot.

Ikeno smirked slightly. Another one down. Victory was only getting closer, elimination after elimination. Oh, and people were doing exactly what he was telling them to. Everything went according to plan; everyone followed instructions without questioning them once... which would be a dumb decision at first thought, but not when it was so evident that it was the right thing—the right and only choice.

Yes, their barricade was starting to get risky; the plan was getting a bit messed up... But isn't that what all games are about? Playing! The more difficult, the more entertaining. And why would anyone complain about such an adrenaline rush?

They turned the corner—and, of course, she was there. Rei. Walking a couple steps ahead. She was everywhere at that point. Talk about an adrenaline rush—Ikeno couldn't even get a break. Not that he complained about the view, though. He followed her every move from behind every second until getting to the wide space they were all slowly getting used to, not missing a single detail about her mannerisms (unlike about whatever Mano was on about at the moment)—the way she gracefully strutted as if she was levitating on a runway, the slight sways of her short, teal bob to the rhythm of her every step like waves rocking along the ocean... Hypnotizing much. But at least he wasn't as dazed as she could get him with those stunning eyes of hers, those eyes he was grateful not to see just then to avoid falling face-first on the ground.

But behind her bold, showy appearance, she was truly a hidden misery. Whatever was going on in her head, whatever gears seemed to be constantly turning—it was a puzzle Ikeno couldn't solve no matter how hard he tried deciphering with his staring. He did know one thing, however. She was always there. Quietly watching without uttering a word. She kept witnessing more and more zombie deaths, remaining indifferent to their fate—which, obviously, was the only logical response; how could she care about a random player's death?—and not expressing her opinion once, for some reason. Hopefully, that meant she agreed with Ikeno's turn of events. Right?

She was the one to come up with that genius—until it got sidetracked—plan not that far into the game; surely she must've been scheming something at all times. Yet her intriguing thoughts would sadly remain a mystery if Ikeno continued to keep that distance between them.

Before he could even notice, they were back at the common room, and Mano's voice that Ikeno's brain had unconsciously muted had been silenced—whatever he'd been talking about all the way there probably wasn't all that important.

He tried shifting his attention elsewhere, mostly so as not to get caught in such a trance again. Something—or rather someone—stood out for once: this random, nerd-looking dude that seemed suspicious.

Ikeno instantly quickened his pace, trying to catch up to him and check if the guy really was nervous or if it was just in his head. As soon as he got close enough, he managed to see a couple drops of sweat running down his face as he anxiously shook. Yeah, no, he wasn't seeing things. “What's wrong?” he half-heartedly asked, more out of distrust than actual concern. “You don't look so good.”

“I—I'm fine,” he stuttered. Ikeno then managed to remember his name, Masato. He was the one introducing himself while Ikeno mentally complained about the vast majority of people there having no sense of style.

“No lying now.” Mano caught him right in the act—Masato really wasn't good at pretending whatsoever; you didn't have to be a genius to notice his lies.

“Be honest,” Ikeno accused him, trying to guess the cause of his nervousness. “Did somebody turn you into a zombie?”

Masato removed his gaze from the ground, nervously looking up at Ikeno's eyes with his own trembling gaze. “I—yeah. I was infected.” At least he gave up on his pathetic attempt at lying before embarrassing himself any further.

“He was trying to hide it!” a guy right behind him didn't hesitate to incriminate. Sure, he might've been trying to hide it—if he didn't look as pathetically guilty as he did. Ikeno had seen literal murderers more calm than Masato. Kazuya himself, for example.

“No! I was just about to tell you!” Masato quickly got defensive, denying any accusations. “And besides, I remember the face of the guy who did this to me.” Words quickly slipped out of his mouth, as if he was trying to say as much stuff as possible in a short time.

Ikeno nodded, his gaze flicking at the ground for a second before quickly glaring back at him. “Then let's fucking kill him,” he calmly suggested—no, ordered—before walking away. “You. You're up next.” At the end of his pointer finger's aim was the confused guy in a blue jacket from the beginning. Of course, Ikeno wasn't going to do it himself. “Go kill that zombie,” he repeated after the other dude looked around, stunned—fitting.

“Me?” he asked, disbelieving. A lady nearby gasped. Acting all surprised as if it wasn't literally the whole point of the game...

“No. Send someone else,” the obvious-commentary dude in red demanded, taking a step forward in defense of the other guy. “This one's practically still a kid.” Well, if he was that innocent, then he evidently shouldn't be back at this hellhole. He survived a bunch of deadly games once—and probably has the intention of doing it again—he should be getting used to death by now.

“It's okay. Pick someone else.” Arisu stepped up too, putting his hand on his shoulder. The way he was still so calm, as if the other guy could just get away without anything being wrong—it made Ikeno's blood boil (let alone the fact that he tried ordering him around). No, it was in fact not okay. If it was the pure little boy who "couldn't kill a fly"'s turn to use his Shotgun, he'd have to do it. It wasn't rocket science. Just how things went.

“Bro, how is that fair for the people who already had to use their shotgun cards!?” Ikeno snapped, arrogantly projecting his voice as his eyes widened. He walked towards the three men, then looked around at the crowd, as if examining their shocked expressions. “What, you think anybody in here actually wants to take a life, huh?” His voice got lower, almost a mutter. The answer was clearly no. He himself didn't want to get his hands dirty just yet.

“No one should be forced to kill anyone.” Arisu walked closer to Ikeno. Ironic, considering that everyone in that place must've taken someone's lives to end up surviving all previous games. No one should be exempt from killing someone if it meant getting a step closer to victory, if it meant helping the greater good—a small price that needed to be paid.

Ikeno slowly turned his head at him, smugly smiling in incredibility. He couldn't hold a laugh at the irony of his words, also walking towards him and therefore reducing the space between them—getting ready in case the argument got heated. “You think you're better than us? Hm?” he accusingly pointed at him, repeatedly poking his chest with his finger. “I bet you've killed someone in a game before.”

The guy's eyes widened as if he unlocked a memory he would've rather kept forgotten. Ikeno's hand lowered, reaching his pocket. He giggled when seeing Arisu's eyes get watery. It was funny seeing some sense snapping back to him, switching up so quickly... And if that turned him into a crybaby, it only made it more comedic. Ikeno should've actually made a bet—could've gotten some cash out of this whole deal.

“Surviving these games is impossible without some sacrifice,” he continued invalidating his logic (if it could even be called that), redirecting his gaze from the teary-eyed man—who now preferred looking at the ground—to the innocent potential killer. “Go on.” He flicked his head at him, giving instructions, making him gasp.

Arisu quickly reacted, telling him to stay. Ikeno also reacted instantly, though, delivering a punch right in his stomach, getting a grunt out of him. The crowd—who had remained silent up until then—gasped in unison. Oh, look, he was making a scene. Whatever. Shine a spotlight on him or something; give everyone something to look at so their stupid, naive asses don't miss the show. If that was what had to be done to get Arisu to cooperate, Ikeno had no problem in having everyone's eyes on him for a bit longer. Also, being just a bit feared by the rest came in handy—just in case condoning murder wasn't scary enough.

The red jacket guy ran towards Ikeno, trying to push him back and keep him far from Arisu, who inevitably started coughing. “What the hell!?” he yelled at the sight of sudden violence.

“Hold him down!” Ikeno shouted, wanting to keep Arisu from attacking him back by simply ordering his newly earned followers to do so. Seeing they instantly obeyed, it didn't take long to earn their respect. This leader shit was so easy, he didn't even have to do anything by himself—no wonder Arisu had a tantrum when Ikeno replaced him.

Just then, Ikeno realized everyone's glares were on him—which would've been obvious considering the scene he was making, but it only hit when he saw Rei's beautiful eyes gaze down at him through her lashes adorned with mascara.

He quickly attempted to recover from the realization. And everyone pushing him back, of course. He tried his best to seem calm. “Now, if you don't go,” he pointed at the nerd—now also a zombie—dude, “we'll shoot this guy instead.” Masato looked around as if asking for help, but all anyone did was gasp. Because that was apparently all they seemed to do well.

“Don't... do it,” Arisu groaned, struggling to even get a few words out while still curled up on the ground from both the pain and the men holding him down. “Please, Ikeno. There's gotta be another way.” Ikeno sighed, his tongue idly licking his inner cheek—an old habit he now did unconsciously.

But there wasn't another way. The next round went by, and Nobu—blue jacket guy—was forced to go against that zombie. However, he was nowhere to be seen in the break before the next round.

Ikeno's best entertainment while waiting for him the next intermission became observing the lab rats caged all over the facility, how they tried reaching for the food over them… It did become boring, though. It's not like they were that interesting to begin with.

He walked away, then realized Nobu's arrival after some seconds of mindless wandering around. “You took your sweet time,” he taunted from afar. Everyone turned their heads at the boy, who came back with blood speckles he had clearly tried to wipe all over his neck and chin.

“Yeah,” was his cold, brief, almost emotionless answer. It wasn't that deep, but whatever. He should decide if he did like being under the spotlight or not—because an answer like that said nothing about him but "attention seeker."

Ikeno quickly walked towards him, not afraid to hide his anger if Nobu didn't obey as promised. “Did you do it?” he asked with such a tone it seemed like he was demanding an answer.

Nobu tried his best to steadily inhale air to get ready for his response, failing terribly as everyone heard how his breath shook. “Yeah, it's done.” He nervously nodded, guilt audible in his monotone voice while his gaze fluttered, afraid to land anywhere in particular.

Ikeno slowly took two steps forward, leaning down a bit to be face-to-face with the boy. “Good job, kid!” He tapped his arms twice in reassurance, widely smiling, before swiftly clapping his hands—all with a sweet hint of irony, obviously. “Clap for him. Clap!” he cruelly demanded, and almost everyone in the room did as he said—he was clearly leading the human side the right way against the zombies, even if it meant manipulating others to do the hard work. Because the point of the game had shifted to the end of all zombies at that point, apparently. He especially noticed Rei's slow applause while an ever-so-small smile rested on her face—even though he couldn't quite tell what kind of grin it was—as he walked away, inspecting the room to avoid looking at her for too long. “Way to go!” he added, exclaiming while still going around with that laid-back walk of his.