The Outcasts - Part 1
Thud— Player 5, who had yanked open Player 4's door, was flung back like she'd been shoved, landing flat on her ass.
"Fucking... shit..." Her pupils trembled, unable to take in the full horror before her eyes. She spat half a curse toward the scene.
"What the hell? What happened? Why are you so shocked?"
"Is something wrong in the police officer's room?"
"What's going on?"
The dimly shadowed horror inside wasn't visible to those behind her. Everyone craned their necks, curiosity winning out as they crowded toward Player 4's door.
"What... the fuck is that..."
"...This can't be real, right?"
Players 3 and 6, following close behind, froze in place, staring blankly at Player 4's room like their souls had left their bodies.
The eyes that had revealed her profession and led everyone's survival efforts now stared blankly at the ceiling, unfocused. Her legs, which had remained dignified even in those shameful leggings, were splayed wide open.
"N-No way... that's all semen, isn't it?"
"Even five guys gang-raping her couldn't produce that much..."
"And it's only been like two hours."
She gasped ragged breaths through her soaked mouth. Every convulsion of her body sent more semen gurgling from her pussy, an endless flow. The fishy stench wafting out as the door hung open was enough to twist noses.
"Eugh...!"
The others just grimaced, but Player 1, arriving late to the scene, reflexively clamped a hand over her mouth. Her uncontrolled breathing and pale face were filled with confusion.
"She's still breathing. Unconscious, as you can see."
I, who had protected my ailing little sister, checked Player 4's pulse. She had definitely been raped. But there were no signs of struggle on her arms or legs.
"Still... you actually touched her?"
"I can just wash my hands."
"Player 2, you're amazing..."
Having confirmed the necessary info, I stepped out of the foul-smelling room.
Click.
As if to say you've seen enough, Player 4's door shut automatically and locked tight.
"So Player 4's out, huh."
"They deliberately showed us that disgusting shit..."
Everyone grimaced at Player 4's fate—reduced to a complete sex toy. The reaction was especially strong because of the gender factor.
"Hah... hah..."
Player 1, more shocked than the rest, was still breathing irregularly.
"You okay?"
I steadied Player 1 before her hyperventilation could worsen, easing her tension with a light touch until she stabilized.
"Thanks... You're good at this."
"My family spent a lot of time in hospitals."
"Family... yeah... I have to get home."
Player 1's eyes, thinking of the child waiting at home, regained their strength.
"Hmm..."
The warm moment didn't last. A sharp gaze turned toward Player 1, whom I was supporting.
"Fuck...! Can we really keep playing this game?"
Player 5, who had opened Player 4's door, voiced doubts about the game.
"No matter how you look at it, they set this up on purpose! A real cop would be bad for them!"
Player 4's open rebellion against the organizers, her disqualification, and the humiliating execution scene bred distrust.
"If it's like this, even if we win, we won't see a dime of the prize."
"Everyone turned into futanari onaholes... It's too horrific..."
The terrified players began agreeing with Player 5.
"Right, Player 2?"
"......"
The anxiety reached even me, who had been silently watching.
> Beeeep!!
> "Ugh...!"
> "Ugh..."
> "Uwaa, chills..."
As the game's momentum faltered, a chalkboard-scraping screech burst from the speakers.
-"Jesus, I've been listening, and it's pathetic. Scared of one little cop, so I intervened?"
The emcee, watching from afar, broadcast a voice thick with disdain.
-"You must be seriously deluded. You're all trash who gathered here, blinded by 100 million won, grasping at rotten ropes. Sewer rats complaining the second things don't go your way."
Full of contempt for the players questioning the game, but not wrong.
-"Think we didn't know Player 4 was a cop? That corrupt bitch tried some sneaky shit to cling to her cushy life and got demoted—we knew ages ago."
The emcee spilled that the disqualified Player 4 wasn't some idealistic cop fighting evil corps, just a dirty one.
-"I didn't spill your info on purpose—for this game. Compared to our goals, your prize money is pocket change."
The mafia game, divorced from reality, had separate aims for the organizers.
-"We won't tarnish Asmo-Zeus's reputation, so relax. We're not desperate enough to pull your amateur moves."
Arrogance laced with pride.
-"Remember, the mafia who made this mess is still hiding among you. Game doesn't end till Day 5. Keep biting each other, you sewer rats."
Static.
The emcee's final advice refocused everyone on the game.
'Game won't end till Day 5... even if we catch the mafia. Prize max 100 million... we're all rivals.'
I confirmed it from the emcee's parting words. This game's core wasn't deduction—it was survival.
"So the bitch who went down today was the people's stick, the cop."
Player 3 sneered at the fallen Player 4 like the emcee. Probably some personal grudge against authority.
"Player 4 really used her job, huh. But why target the cop, mafia?"
The youngest-looking Player 7 questioned the mafia's choice.
Player 4 had seized initiative on Day 1 with her cop status and hopes of real victory in this shady game. But from a futanari's view—body altered, unable to return to normal—they couldn't let the game end.
"Nothing gets resolved, huh."
"Like Player 2 said... No hospital even treats futanari."
I whispered the truth to Player 7, who seemed a bit airheaded.
"...More importantly. So one chick with a dick did all that alone?"
Player 5 gaped at the futanari who painted the room white with a single cock between her legs.
"Even rapists couldn't pull that off..."
That much fluid would cause dehydration coma for sure. But none of the six seated players looked fatigued.
"Nothing's physically impossible here. Mafia's a woman with a dick, after all."
In a setup including futanari, reality-based guesses were pointless.
"Who the hell is the cum-shooting mafia... We gotta find 'em quick, or we'll all end up like that! One of you!"
Player 5 scanned the futanari-mixed players, chills crawling up her spine.
'But could a futanari really rape like that?'
Clash of desires and morals from another gender, raping till unconscious—felt separate.
'Probably used special drugs. On herself and Player 4...'
Rule 1 enabled it, pipes for pills too. All per organizers' design.
No certainty on mafia's identity yet. Everyone just stared, eyes full of chaos and distrust.
"Still, more virile than my husband who came home last night?"
"Y-Yes?"
In the deadlock, Player 6 picked a fight with Player 1.
"Being lonely and alone doesn't excuse wrecking someone like that. Too much, don't you think, mafia?"
With a hook-like smile, she stamped Player 1 as guilty.
"Player 1..."
"The mafia?"
"Futanari...?"
Shocked gazes converged on Player 1.
"N-No way! Why would I ever... do something like that...!"
Suddenly cornered, Player 1 cried out in injustice.
"You ate the pill I gave you last night. Tested positive. I vote low numbers 'cause I'm lazy. Haha, tough luck. Sorry?"
Player 6 smugly presented her personal proof.
"Pill? I didn't get any..."
Player 1 looked baffled, hearing it for the first time.
"Then Player 6's the cop...?"
"Yeah, no other cops around."
"Right...! Mafia game needs a cop."
The indispensable role. Mood shifted to certainty that Player 6 was the cop.
"No, I didn't do it..."
Player 1, backed to the cliff, wore a crumbling expression. Vision went dark, nothing visible.
The eyes glaring at Player 1—who could barely breathe moments ago—belonged to Player 6. And Player 6 had fingered her as mafia.
'The mafia after all...'
Speculation turned to certainty. Nailing the mafia led straight to victory.
"Got a kid, yet doing shameful shit. How you gonna face the child—"
"I think it's too early for certainty."
I cut off Player 6's mockery.
"Player 6 might not be the cop."
"Hm?"
"Huh? Possible?"
"No other cops."
My claim drew immediate suspicion.
"If a real cop went down Day 1, mafia just needs to dogpile one person. Plus, no one claimed pills Day 1."
I bolstered my shaky claim with logic.
"Real cop loses Day 1? Fuck, you think that makes sense? And who brags 'I got investigation pills~'? Not suicide."
Player 6 snapped at the weak testimony.
"Just a possibility. No one else has pills anyway."
Unprovable evidence clashed, ending the debate. My claim wouldn't sway votes, but essential for my win.
"Player 2..."
At least swayed one person's gaze— the lone one fingered as mafia. Enough.
"Wasted time on bullshit. Vote's decided, let's end this crap game."
Beep.
Player 6, cop role fulfilled, started voting first.
Beep. Beep. Beep...
Players followed, deciding Day 2's elimination. Unlike yesterday's even split, majority piled on one.
Most Votes: Player 6
"Me...?"