Chapter Text
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Ramblings of Mr █████████
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Have you ever had a dream?
I'm talking about something beyond the expectations of others. I'm talking about something that could give you motivation while inspiring and entertaining others!
You know what I mean~.
Something you are willing to sacrifice?
Time, countless late nights and missed sleep! Family, missed birthdays and anniversaries! Friendships, breakups and more!
Everything you know and love, all for that glimmer-
“Pardon me, Mr. █████████?” I felt a tap on my shoulder.
Right! The recording is about to start!
Silly me! Dazing like that! So unprofessional~
I looked at my assistant and gave her a wide smile, “Oh, yes Ms. ██████, I almost forgot. You memorized it all… Right?”
She gave a quick thumbs-up as her face brightened up with determination. “I did. We might as well make the most of it.” Her smile shimmered with hope.
Only for it to be snuffed out just as quickly. Out of concern, or perhaps something else?
Isn't it infuriating? Budget cuts, higher-ups nagging about show “adjustments”, and they wonder why the show is failing!
‘I wanted to create MY SHOW, WHERE I DICTATE MY OWN THEME!’
‘Damn it… I don't want this show to be remodeled into someone else's vision?!’
‘All this, all my blood, sweat and tears, just for it to change, because of some measly dollars…’
I tightened my grip around the armchair before I loosened my hold.
‘But… That's just show business, am I, right folks?’
…
Yeah…
Let's just get this over with. The guest star should be arriving any minute now…
As I stood up, I felt as though I was turned upside down, spun again and again.
Black, white, grey, and a swirl of all sorts of colors exploded in front of me, like a blinding light of a crackhead in California or Florida flashing his ████ on a Tuesday.
I instinctively closed my eyes, overwhelmed. Thankfully, I'm not epileptic.
I still wanted to puke… Dizziness? Odd… I don't remember drinking.
Then–
I heard a piano string being played…
It sounded like…
Like. . . absolute horse shit!
Better than mine at the very least, props to him or her-
“What absolute horse shit!” I heard an unfamiliar voice.
“Hey, wanna bet that Tom can play a lot better than this talentless loser?” Then another rude voice.
Isn't it a bit too inconsiderate for these people to say it so openly?
Can these bastards keep it to themselves until the performance is over?
As my sight steadied, I saw a… Pretty, Middle-class, luxurious pub, I saw a grand piano on the center of the stage, ceiling lights pointed towards the frail performer.
But one thing is clear, I'm not in the Studio.
I tapped myself… Same suit… same body… What's going on?
I saw one of the people on a seat get up, and he then slowly walked towards the stage.
The audience began to murmur, and the volume increased as he took another step.
Until he is at a fair length. “You talentless bastard! Let me show you how it's done.” He shoved the frail man.
I watched as the people gazed intently around the scene.
He sat on the stool where the performer once sat. “I’ll show you how it's done.” he stretched his arms, settling and adjusting.
Then, he pressed his key, playing a song that was quite familiar but I could not recall its name, his fingers played each note with grace. As he continued, I heard a clap, then another, then cheers and applause.
What the fuck is wrong with these people?!
Are these guys feeding on hatred?
Because they sure are pissing me off.
I watched as the frail pianist hyperventilated, muttering to himself, like an unwanted dog thrown out of the streets.
…
Isn't it pitiful? Do you not feel it?
How does the world simply reject who you are?
Odd, I felt a strange warmth unlike any other… “It is quite infuriating, isn't it… Miss?”
Ah, how courteous. But I suppose this is how dialogues begin anyway. Let’s do it your preferred way, shall we?
Look at them. Shunning one’s performance due to their own inadequacy. Is it not fair to hear it out until the end of the play?
My name is Carmen. Would you like to begin the show?
Hmm… How do you know something like that…
Does it matter? The situation is bizarre in itself.
Yes… I suppose you're right…
I wanted to stab those higher-ups. Ridiculous, isn't it, turning a live broadcast show into a prerecorded show!? Replacing the audience with a laughing track, how laughable, where is the magic in that!?
Where is the thrill!? Where is the authenticity!?
And don't get me started with these guest stars!
The random everyday passerby guest would've sold it better!
Where's the relatability!?
It was MY SHOW. Those good-for-nothing bastards have no respect for the effort that others put in… They should know their place!
…
Hahahaha… Pass the mic on to my hand, Ms. Carmen, I'll give them a show to remember!
Lights, camera, action~.
Lights. Camera. Action!
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Ramblings of a 3rd Person?
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The pianist mumbled to himself, as he slowly rose, taking a new shell to its liking, his four arms rising up high, as his piano materialized from the ground.
The audience, so foolish of their boastful selves from earlier, rather than fearing for their lives. They raised their eyes, looking at this new form as an ‘act’
“What type of prosthetics are those?”
“Must be one hell of an expensive act if that's the case.”
“He’s still shit in my opinion, no extra arms will fix that!”
Many such Comments that were followed by insults and laughter from the soon-to-be-dead man.
On the other side, an unremarkable-looking show host emerges anew.
Same suit, same shoes, same clothing, Mic in hand, he raised it high, to his Old fashion Television screen, as it ‘activated’ revealing a yellow floating hand emoji, waving towards the crowd.
Not one, but two imminent disasters are about to merge.
Originally meant for the pianist's short debut in the grand stage of the city…
But, with a new guest in the mix, things are bound to change, spectacularly? Of course, like a plum waiting to blossom~...
Just before the pianist could play his lovely song, a blinding light enveloped the area–
No, the entire 40 KM of the area, enveloping those outside the building, as if the walls that separated the light were non-existent!
As things settled, the entire 40km Domain space was enclosed in an unknown black viscous liquid.
The live broadcast had begun.
Before we begin, dear viewers, tell me, what exactly is a show?
A proper stage with a well dressed host?
Followed by a spectacular band and contestants filled with passion?
No. 不. Nein. NIET!
[Not at all!]
[It's the Connection with you that will make this new TRUE show rise!]
[So for now on, don't forget to cheer and smile!]
A bright and cheerful voice, echoed throughout the area, as buildings, furniture and roads transform into some sort of old fashioned quiz show.
In which held 12 contestants
[Welcome, welcome, To the one and all Sunday Quiz Show! Now, now, everyone, let's be on our best behavior now!]
A roar of applause came from those too “weak-willed” and “unfit” to resist, who were relegated to an “enthusiastic” audience.
[Oh my look at all these new ‘Applicants’ for our first live broadcast!]
“P-pardon–” The man who shoved the pianist earlier mumbled in flabbergastation.
[Oh, rude looking man, You must be very nervous ahead of your first broadcast!]
[But no matter the mean mug, a smiling face is the foundation of this show!]
[So let's face it with a bright smile.]
A bright yellow smiling emoji appeared on the TV-head screen.
He looked at the TV-headed host with hostility. But didn't comment any further.
His experience tells him that this is no ordinary person, to be able to create something like this must have a singularity or two…
The TV-head showed a clapping emoji on his screen.
[Good! Good! Cameras, standby!]
[Then for the last time, shall we let out, ONE MORE CHEER!]
[Why?]
The “eager audience” leaned closer as if waiting in a queue waiting to drop. As the Host emoji swapped to a Finger pointing emoji.
[Your cheers‐!]
The TV head raised his hands wide open in a grand gesture, the ceiling lights focusing solely on him.
[-Are the very reason why this show exists!]
The audience began to clap and shout as confetti popped out of the ceiling, as The Host screen swapped to a bowing emoji.
In the background, the pianist was relegated to the “Band” area. There it played its piece…
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The Rambling of Ms. Angelica
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[Have you all been waiting for Sunday? So have I! After all, it’s the only day we get to see our lovely new quiz show contestants! For our very First episode!]
With a sound effect, the light showed down on the Fourteen podiums arranged in a semicircle,
Compared to the horrors I had faced, this seems a little innocent, a game show host with a TV-head and a Guy with 4 arms with a piano? The juxtaposition would’ve been hilarious if it was under normal circumstances.
This is not one of them.
I adjusted my mask–
[Will the contestants get the answers right this time as well? Let us SEE!]
[For our first showing, we have randomly selected The Miss with the black mask!]
I blinked–
And here I am, standing before a podium with the man who shoved the pianist earlier to the side, standing frozen on my left.
The lights are blinding. Not enough to cause blindness, but I can barely see the audience beyond the darkness.
I tried to pull my weapons–
[Let's get right into it! Introduce yourself ma’am!]
In a split second, everything slowed down.
For a moment, I considered cutting down this host right where he stood. I am still faster than a human despite my pregnancy, after all.
Yet, something tells me that interrupting the host would bring great consequences.
I have to act carefully.
Time went back to its normal speed.
I smiled before the unseen camera, putting on the mask I usually wore before our clients, “My name is Angelica, happily married and thank you for allowing me this opportunity to join your show!”
[What LOVELY enthusiasm, now this is a participant with passion! I'm sure you have a great burden taking care of yourself and that child, but worry not, for those who remain the longest will be given a prize!]
I tried not to show my surprise at his sharp observation and merely bowed slightly, “You flatter me, Mister! And yes, it is lovely to myself and you in this show of yours!”
[Lovely to see you too, Miss. Angelica, I hope we can get along swimmingly!]
The endless audience began to clap.
The host showed a heart emoji on his TV screen, giving me a thumbs up before he turned around with a flare.
[Now onto the next guest!]
He clapped, moving on to the next guest, who was the guy who shoved the pianist from earlier…
“M-my name is Simon…”
[Mr. Simon, is this your first time in a game show?]
“Y-yes–” Just before he could continue, someone interrupted him.
“Fuck this–!” A lady with a Hana Association unsheathed uniform yelled, she readied her fist as metal liquid formed into a cube-like sword, followed by a Liu and a Zwei fixer–
–Only to be evaporated… not cut, not burned… no, they were turned into a bloody mist with a snap of a finger.
With that, fourteen participants turned to Eleven.
[Please don't interrupt the host or the guest being interviewed!]
I was right. I knew there was something wrong with how confident and comfortable the host is in front of many fixers of various grades.
[Thank you for introducing yourself to me, Mr. Simon!]
[Onto our next contestant!]
I took a deep breath.
…
Time has passed as the introduction concluded without a hitch, the eleven contestants had given their name.
[Let's give our round of applause for today's contestants, Ms Angelica, Mr. Simon, Mr. Yi, Mr. Mark, Ms. Rose, Mr George, Mr. Charlie, Ms. August, Mr. Badger, Mr Roe, and Miss Eli! Can we get an applause ladies and gentlemen!]
The “audience” burst into cheers, loud screams and clapping hands thundered around us as the jazz music swelled up for a moment.
[What eager bright faces! I love that from you all!]
[Miss Angelica you seem very eager to answer first hm? Then I'll ask you our very first question!]
[Pianist, set the tone for us!]
On the host’s head, the old-fashioned TV displayed strange letters.
It was an unfamiliar, ominous script I had never seen before, but I could read it. A surge of nausea and a headache hit me, then quickly passed.
[First Question: What is the most used musical key signature on a piano?]
A: A Minor
B: B Minor
C: C Major
D: D major
I blinked, that is…
“The answer is C, C Major.” It is surprisingly easy. Though I doubt others would know just as well as me aside from the other pianist.
[Correct!]
He clapped, impressed.
The questions weren’t identical, but they were similar enough to make answering them easy.
He turned, heading towards the other participant.
[Now, Miss Eli!]
[Question: What is a well known traditional piano song for beginners?]
A: A Moonlight Sonata
B: Rondo alla Turca
C: Prelude in C Major
D: Clair de Lune
“I-I don’t know! I don’t know about–” The lady blurted out in a panic.
[How unfortunate! Do you wish to forfeit?]
The TV host tilted his head, a question mark appeared on its face.
The lady participant blubbered in reply, trying to get out her words but it only came out incoherent.
“I-I don’t- I don’t want this! I want o-out–!”
[Very well, Mr Pianist, let's send her a goodbye song.]
[One!]
[Two!]
[Three!]
A chord was played and the woman’s scream turned melodious.
A blood-curdling shriek turned into a note similar to baroque classical pieces.
Then that person slowly flew up, her flesh twisting as bones cracked in a harrowing tone, shaping into a series of notes that floated up in the air and into the music score that was coming from the pianist’s instrument.
A modest applause from the “audience”. A token consolation akin to saying “You tried your best”.
To the TV host, it was all the same, raising his hand to calm down the captivated crowd.
I need to find a way out, or at least to reduce the suffering of others.
[Well done! Now onto our next guest–]
“Excuse me, Mr. Host? May I ask a question?” I raised my hand as I politely interrupted the TV-headed man.
[My, how polite! For that, you may ask now, Miss Angelica! What would you like to know?]
“I know that this is a quiz show and all, but you haven’t told us how this show would go. Is it unfair for us to not know the objectives, rules, and the end goal of this glamorous show, no?” I asked while maintaining my polite tone.
It is a gamble, but from what I had observed of the man’s motives, he wants to stand out. To be able to show how entertainment should be. To be a host to many people.
After all, it’s not a show if it’s not entertaining to both participants and audience.
A second later, the TV host’s television adopted a stuck-out tongue emoji.
[Silly me! I must have forgotten to do that because of my excitement! Pardon me for not explaining much, this is after all the first time this show is being broadcast around and all over the City!]
A pit opened under my stomach. A single thought ran inside my head.
Roland.
The host continued on, not noticing or ignoring my sudden worry.
[And since you requested it, I shall grant it with the grandeur it deserves! Pianist, music please!]
The pianist and the unseen band began to play a jazzy music piece.
[Again, welcome to the all brand and spanking new Sunday Night Quiz Show! I am your host, the Moderator! And today, I shall explain the rules and goal of this wonderful game show of the City!]
[Everyday, on Sunday evening, at exactly 6 PM, we will take 3 to 12 random participants around the City’s 26 districts! Their goal is to answer 100 questions, each of varying difficulty and topics such as:]
[Music and Arts!]
The screen behind the Moderator and above the Pianist flashed, showing a cartoon of a man with a note and an art piece behind him.
[Science!]
Another is shown with a man in a lab coat.
[And many more!]
The screen showed a list.
History, philosophy, literature, and more general subjects that I only skimmed in the past.
[The rules are the following:]
[Rule 1: No inappropriate act during the live broadcast. That's a big no, no!]
[Rule 2: You have 5 seconds to answer your designated question. Fail to answer in time, and you will be penalized.]
[Rule 3: NO CHEATING! Using gadgets is NOT ALLOWED!]
[The prize? Why, of course there will be a prize! It won’t be fair to the participants to join here without motives, no?]
To be fair, you really didn’t give us a chance to say no. I mentally thought in my mind.
[The prize is…]
A light flashed towards the side of the stage, where a giant wheel with various things on it was written.
[A roulette of items ranging from more than mundane items like an instant microwave, the Auto Cleaner Mk. 4, or the Wombforce 9000, to the most prestigious, such as a Wish potion that can grant a wish without strings attached or a powerful relic such as the Rule Breaker, a weapon known to negate any contractual or soul binding magic or power with a simple slash!]
[And that is all you need to know, folks! Now, let the show begin in earnest!]
Amidst the thundering cheers and applause of the “audience”, my worry still remained on one and one person only.
Oh, Roland. Please don’t do something stupid.
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※ CAUTION ※
Disclaimer : By reading this document, you accept full responsibility for any fear, hallucinations, ■■, or ■■■■ that may arise. Seven-Association is not liable for any damages.
Please proceed after signing.
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[Sunday Quiz Show]
The First Distortion was created after the events of L-Corp.
Hana-Association, Threat level:
STAR OF THE CITY.
The distortion that led to countless casualties and the introduction of distortion in the city.
Official record of survivors: 2/500,000
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The disaster began on a Sunday at 6 PM inside a bar.
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The host explained that this talk show had a different theme for each day of the week, but there were no known cases in any other day.
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