Chapter Text
If everyone really thought no one would murder again after the first trial, they were naïve.
Sure, Eva’s execution might have scared these fools into docility for a short while (and although Damon would never admit it, her execution scared him as well—the way she kept running until the blazing embers inevitably swallowed her served as a reminder of the eternal punishment and hellfire that awaited for any who dared to take the life of another person), but once a week or two passed, another murder was bound to happen.
Or so he thought.
Some time had elapsed, and not a single murder happened. Maybe Damon was the fool, and he was just being a pessimist for no reason that one time he called out the Ultimates for their hopeful attitudes after the trial.
Of course, Tozu tried a multitude of methods to coerce the student body into murder. He went from developing tensions by introducing a microeconomic system to downright offering traitor perks to whoever walked by. Consequently, there were multiple attempts on every students’ lives, ranging from accidents to pure maliciousness, but nothing worked.
It was as if every murder plan about to hatch remained stagnant and unfulfilled concepts, foiled by just a tiny fraction of unfortunate coincidence.
For instance, one murder almost happened when Ulysses Wilhelm and Wenona became the “class dictators” because of how much money they possessed following the second motive. The duo took advantage of Tozu’s motive, using it to condition the class for their benefit. Jett Dawson and Mark Berskii became their slaves, people had to beg them for basic utilities, and everyone was forced to bake to sustain themselves. Damon was only able to avoid the conflict by keeping to himself—for the most part.
Although the previous roommate plan was altered due to lingering distrust after the first trial, his former roommate still ended up weaseling his way back into Damon’s life by doing the absolute most. The guy shut off Tozu’s morning announcement to make sure he had Damon’s attention, made a full-on list consisting of all the reasons they should keep rooming together, and sobbed until Damon relented (even though HE was the one who HATED the idea of sharing a room with Damon AND was the one who decided to switch rooms after Eva’s execution). Damon found it exceedingly endearing annoying.
Anyway, that was besides the point. Wenona seizing the opportunity to up her economic status was not a surprise due to her Ultimate as an entrepreneur, but one would think that Ulysses, as a historian, would think twice before embodying the worst of humanity: greed. If not yet convinced of his idiocy, Ulysses was the second most wealthy and influential person at the time, so it was quite stupid for him to end up stealing Damon’s food. In fact, Ulysses could have easily bribed someone to make another portion, but no, stealing from the poor was at his utmost convenience—not that Damon cared enough, or anything.
That incident was not even the worst of it all! Jean DeLamer meant to poison Damon’s food since everyone was out to get Damon these days for telling the harsh truth and “being too useful in class trials.” However, since Ulysses had consumed Damon’s food, he faced the lethal consequences instead. But both fortunately and unfortunately, Wenona woke up the next morning to see Ulysses’s health decline and was able to (very frantically and panicked) find an antidote with the reluctant assistance of the class. Jean ended up admitting to attempting Damon’s murder and helped reverse the effects of the drug. This close-call made the Wenona and Ulysses reform their selfish ways, and tensions ceased for the time-being.
Then, a few days later, Damon’s only friend acquainted ally in this God-forsaken place almost died.
Diana, the subpar, wannabe Wolfgang (why anyone would want to model that dead fraud, Damon did not know), suggested bonding by facilitating a play on the stage that Tozu gave the class access to. It was as if everyone had forgotten what happened the last time the class tried to bond with a fun videogame tournament—these idiots would never learn.
But again, his roommate Kai somehow convinced Damon to help out when the former was casted as the lead role. Even though Damon absolutely loathed Kai at first, something about Kai made him more tolerable than the others. And that made it harder to say no to him. Damon would never say it aloud, but being the Ultimate Influencer might not be as useless as he initially thought if Kai had this much of an influence on even the most esteemed and withdrawn individuals like Damon.
Admittedly, helping out with the play ended up being fun after all. Diana’s leadership was not as fraudulent as Wolfgang’s. Damon had to give credit where credit was due. All was looking up, and Damon finally came around to trusting others, especially Kai. Nothing could possibly go wrong
But the world loved proving Damon wrong, possibly as retribution for his tendency to be right all the time—something about keeping the natural order and balance in both literal and figurative thermodynamics.
Damon had groggily emerged from Kai’s dorm, and Tozu’s morning announcement only served to disorient him further. He only regained his wits when Toshiko started running out of the theatre area, crying and screaming for help.
Damon, realizing the seriousness of the situation, had run into the theatre room. Kai lay on the floor, unconscious.
Outraged, Damon had demanded to know what happened.
Toshiko cried out, “I am so, so sorry, Mochi!” She paused to wail harder. “I didn’t mean to!”
While Kai Monteago was rehearsing, he had a close-call with death when Toshiko accidentally opened the stage floor trapdoor beneath him. Thankfully, Kai had heard the creak of the lever and jumped off the side of the stage at the very last moment.
All things considered, the ordeal could be worse. Had Kai actually fallen through the stage floor, the impact of the props would have killed him. Also, seeing that the perpetrator was merely fourteen and the incident was not, in any way, premeditated, Damon decided to let his frustrations go.
He sternly instructed the evidently frenzied girl, still making note to soften his voice. “Go get Ingrid to help me carry Kai back to our—I mean his dorm,” he said, trying to keep his composure.
Toshiko returned with Ingrid, and with great struggle, the tree of them managed to maneuver Kai back into bed without hurting him on the way.
Damon thanked Ingrid and turned to Toshiko. “No one but us four will have to know, okay?” Damon added as reassurance.
“O-okay.”
Soon enough, Kai woke up with a mild concussion, of which Damon had to nurse for a few days. It was an inconvenience, sure, but it was much more preferable than having to investigate the death of his friend and condemn a helpless child to death.
Two more close-call encounters with murder transpired in the next two weeks.
Mark almost managed to kill himself because of a misunderstanding between him and Jett. However, Ingrid stumbled upon Mark while he was making the bomb he wanted to use for his own death. She snapped Mark out of his depression and made Jett and Mark resolve their differences. Not that Damon was interested, or anything, but he figured out from Toshiko that Mark confessed his love for Jett, but Jett rejected Mark. Since Jett, understandably, did not want to pursue romance in a killing game, he actually sibling-zoned Mark. Upon clarification, Jett said he would be happy to consider Mark’s feelings if the class ended up escaping, but Jett could make no promises. With this explanation, Mark was satisfied.
Then, Eloise found out about a plot Desmond made to have her unknowingly kill him so that she could escape as the blackened. To this very idea, she objected. Eloise said that she would rather die than have Desmond kill himself for her safety and that she would tell everyone to vote for her if he ended up going through with the plan. Desmond, very clearly prioritizing her life, agreed to stop.
But still, after five run-ins with death, no one actually died.
And it had been twenty days since Damon accepted the traitor perk from Tozu.
*
Damon was supposed to be looking around the new rooms with Kai, but Kai was preoccupied in the coffee shop and bakery that had opened up.
“Damon! Look at these neat coffee mugs with their silly quotes on them. Ooh! Look, this mug says ‘Duck, I’m tired,’ and it has a duck on it,” Kai said, beaming with excitement as he held it up in Damon’s face. Kai’s yellow eyes sparkled like the sun as he inspected the drinkware. “Now that I think about it, this duck looks like you every morning.”
Unimpressed, Damon glared at him with the straightest face known to man. “Haha, very funny,” he deadpanned.
“What, you don’t think it’s cute?” Feigning sadness, Kai began to fake pout.
“Stop that.”
“Stop what?” Kai asked, playing dumb.
Damon replied, “You know what.”
“Don’t act like you’re above my antics!” Kai teased, sticking his tongue out.
“...”
“Hey, since you are always so low-energy all the time, maybe you need some actual coffee in your system instead of the half-assed coffee inside the cafeteria. I swear, the only good thing to come out of that place is the cereal. ” Kai turned his attention to the coffee machine. “That reminds me! I promised I would make you a killer frappe when you helped me get my ring. Be prepared to be amazingly amazed by my amazing brewery!”
“No thanks, we don’t have time right now,” Damon said, not exactly refusing the offer entirely like he did back then. “...Also, I’m sure you could have been much more eloquent with your word choice.”
Kai whined. “C’mon dude, you’re always hating on me, like for real. And I promise it’ll be worth it. My frappes are totally bomb! They’ll be done in a jiffy!”
Damon raised his eyebrow. “And I thought we were supposed to be exploring the new rooms. I don’t think we’ll have time for such tomfoolery if someone snags a potential murder weapon from an uncatalogued room before we could take inventory.”
Kai’s excited expression dropped, remembering the reality of their situation. “Oh… Yeah.”
Kai was actually sad this time. How pitiful. Also regrettable. Damon cursed himself for being pessimistic again, it was not like anyone died since Wolfgang’s trial. Feeling bad, Damon reasoned, “If you promise not to die while I’m gone, I can investigate the rest of the rooms while you make that frappe.”
Damon fought the faint smile that threatened to disgrace his dignity when Kai’s eyes lit up again.
“Really? You mean it?” he asked, surprised yet earnest.
“Do not make me regret agreeing.”
“I would never! Thanks man, you’re the best, really.”
Immediately, Kai got to work. Once Damon was sure Kai was not watching, the smallest hint of the most minute grin etched out upon Damon's face as he watched the latter dedicate himself to perfecting a frappe. After a few minutes, Damon stepped out to continue searching the rest of the rooms.
Then, as if calling out to Damon, a particular door stood out to him. Once Damon entered, he was met with the magnificent sight. As much as he hated sentimentals, the reminder of normalcy made him miss home.
The front of the room contained the judges’ table, the surrounding areas were lined with seats for spectators, and the top was decorated with elegant lighting meant to spotlight the centermost part of the room with two podiums, each with their own microphone.
It was a debate room. Specifically designed to host debate tournaments.
It was beautiful.
The feeling reminded him of the prestigiousness of debate and the confidence it required to speak for long durations of time against opponents and judges meant to scrutinize every word that came out of his mouth. Being surrounded by a familiar setting after being held in a foreign facility for so long was overwhelming.
Damon descended to reach the center of the room. The spectator seats encircled what he felt was now the very center of the room: himself. He stepped up to one of the podiums.
It was then he saw a screen atop the podium. On the screen, there were a set of numbers in random areas between a 6x6 square formed out of dots.
To a casual observer, the numbers would have meant nothing, and it would have been dismissable as a code of some sorts. However, to Damon, the layout of which the numbers were in meant something significant. This was a logic puzzle. It was the kind of puzzle only his debate club president in high school would put on the projector as a daily warm-up. It was the kind of puzzle only found in his parents’ newspapers they bought to seal the cracks in their house back when his family resided in the poor areas of Japan. It was the kind of puzzle only he could solve.
As a kid, Damon used to solve these puzzles in sections of the Japanese Nikoli magazines. Because of this, he was able to recall the name of these types of puzzles: Slitherlink.
Slitherlink was unlike typical puzzles found in Western newspapers like crosswords or sudoku puzzles. The closest thing to Slitherlink that came to mind was Minesweeper. One would have to draw a line between two dots, and the numbers indicate how many lines must surround each number. In addition, the puzzle solver must form the various line segments into one “link” or “loop” without any intersections, or loose ends. Geometrically, it should end up as one cohesive polygon that, theoretically, a snake could slither through the whole thing in one go.
Damon began connecting dots together on the device’s screen until the Slitherlink was solved. It ended up looking something like this:
!!!
Suddenly, Tozu appeared.
Why was he here?
Then, Damon recalled what Eva had said in her trial.
Shit.
Tozu cleared his throat. Then, he began speaking, “It seems to me that you have solved this little puzzle of mine! As you know, I like to reward good behavior, and as a teacher, it only makes sense to give such an excellent student an incentive whenever they solve an incredibly hard problem of mine.” He paused to catch his breath. “Whew! That was essentially a verbose way of offering you my one-of-a-kind, limited, infamous traitor perks.”
“Uh, sorry. I don’t think you have the right idea,” Damon explained.
“Oh? Why not? You went as far as to seek the answer to my tricky puzzle! You had to be seeking my attention, yes?”
“Look, I was just trying to investigate the room for potential escape. I’m not interested in murdering my classmates. For a stupid perk.”
“Huh..?” For once, Tozy looked taken aback.
Unannused, Damon glared at the goat. “What.”
“Take no offense, dear student, but were you not the one who had called it naïve to seek escape and hope for peace? And are you not curious as to what I have to offer?”
“Unfortunately, I am well aware of your ‘traitor perks’ and their drawbacks.”
“Oh, please. Do not tell me you’re scared. You know that you can get off with murder just fine against the combined wit of your fellow peers. Plus, regarding the time limit for murder upon accepting the perk, it gets reset whenever a murder happens, so as long as your peers keep murdering each other, you can save this perk for a time you can best utilize it!
“…”
“If it makes you less antsy, I can extend the time to thirty days.”
“…”
“You haven’t even heard the perk yet!”
“…”
“You’ll be able to poison anyone remotely. It would be the easiest murder method to get away with!”
“…”
“Fine, you group of students have left me no choice. You guys and your stupid connections with each other... It seems you have grown attached to your roommate, ohohoho! How exciting! What was his name again? Kyle, was it?”
At this, Damon finally reacted.
Tozu continued, “Ah, no! It was Mr. Monteago—Kai.”
“Don’t do anything to him,” Damon warned.
“Eh? Me? Harm my own killing game participants? There would be no fun in me flat-out hurting my esteemed students if they did not do anything wrong. Oh, nonono! In fact, I am actually proposing the opposite. If you get away with murder, I will allow you to choose any student to escape and survive along with you.”
And at this, Damon finally considered taking the perk. He weighed his options. Taking the traitor’s perk almost guaranteed success in getting away with the murder. All Damon would have to do is frame someone, contribute close to nothing in the trial, and push the vote onto some innocent classmate—the rest would be history. Alternatively, the group could luck out, and they could find an exit… Or, they could be stuck in here forever until someone was bold enough to kill another student and escape, thenceforth killing everyone else by proxy.
Now, when had luck ever been on Damon’s side?
And besides, the probability of both Kai and him surviving until the killing game ended was close to zero when considering the odds they were up against. After all, an attempt had just been made on Damon’s life!
Damon gave in. “Fine.”
With that, Tozu flashed Damon a cheerful grin and disappeared just as fast as he appeared.
Damon could only hope that he would not regret taking the perk.
Six days later, Kai almost died at Toshiko's hands. This alone had entirely resolved Damon’s choice to murder. He could not afford to wait any longer, for both Kai and his own fate was at stake.
*
But a whole fourteen days later, Damon still could not bring himself to kill anybody.