The Outcasts 4
The longest day I'd spent so far had finally dragged to an end. Everyone took their seats at the table, as marked by the numbers.
The [Execution Vote] sign glowed, and the lights on the voting terminals flickered on, but no one rushed to press their buttons.
"Hey, you two lovebirds over there—got someone picked out to hang today?" Player 3 spoke first from the seat right next to me. Her soft smile dripped with sinister intent.
"……"
There was no need to answer out loud.
"Just as stiff as you look…"
Tap. Tap. Tap.
"What if you’ve got a hard stick down there too, Player 2?"
Tap. Tap.
The sly scammer drummed her fingers on the table alongside her idiotic joke, a deliberate ploy to rattle nerves. I spared it a brief glance.
"Anyway, it's you and me against each other. You know what happens when we clash, right?" She met my eyes one last time and flashed a grin.
'Gotta vote for Player 5.'
I'd known she was a foul-mouthed, scheming bitch, but at her core, she was a scammer through and through. After that brief exchange, she targeted Player 5, who'd teamed up with her.
Tap—
I lightly drummed the table in response, then opened my palm toward Player 1 on my right—a signal.
Nod—
The number of spread fingers indicated the vote target. Player 1, my ally, caught the signal.
Beep, beep—
Understanding perfectly, Player 1 and I punched the same number simultaneously.
"Player 3…! I-I just follow the plan, right?!" Unlike the relaxed Player 3, Player 5 was pale as a ghost. Riding on someone else's scheme made it hard to shake the anxiety.
"Of course. Do what I say, and you'll live. Try voting once or twice?" Player 3 kept her smile, as if she'd foreseen it all from the start.
Beep, beep—
The two voted again.
"Umm… who to pick… Ah, screw it!"
Beep—
Kim Hanna, the last one, flailed like a shrimp caught in a whale fight before squeezing her eyes shut and hitting the button.
A tense silence fell after everyone finished voting.
Over half the votes went to Player 5.
The victim for Day 3's execution platform has been decided.
"No… nooo!!" Player 5's scream tore through the voting area.
"W-Weren't you all supposed to vote for Player 3? That's why I picked her too!" Hanna's eyes went wide at the unexpected result.
"What? Then how the hell did I get a majority…?" In a 2:2:1 split, Player 1 and I had voted for Player 5, Hanna for Player 3, and the scheming duo Player 3 and 5 for the same target—it should've been a tie.
Pop—
Amid the chaos of the vote results, a spotlight descended on Player 5's head. The other survivors watched from the shadows, but one wore a smile.
"What the fuck does it even mean to trust anyone in this shithole? Still don't get why you're buried in debt? Oh, sorry—must be 'cause you're too stupid to know, and got fucked over like an idiot again."
The scammer who'd stabbed her in the back mocked the debt-ridden fool right up to the end, for leaning on others till the gallows.
"Player 3… you goddamn bitch!!" Player 5 finally realized the betrayal and wasted her final plea spewing rage.
'No one's gonna save her no matter how much she begs anyway.'
No one who voted for Player 5 thought she was the mafia. It was just culling numbers for the prize money.
"You think this gets you through tomorrow?! You fucking scammer cunt!?" She cursed the scammer who'd stepped on her skull to survive.
♪♬~
Player 3, unperturbed, hummed a tune from the spectator seats. She'd planned to betray from the start.
—Who knows? She only said something about making money, nothing else.
Not telling Hanna—who'd play a key role in the vote battle—whom to pick.
—She's still glaring at us, Yumirae. Keep watching me.
Pretending to stay wary of me with those glances.
—It's you Player 2 and me Player 3 clashing.
And finally signaling she'd vote for Player 5. All according to the scammer's plan.
It eroded all her trust, but rationally, it bought her to Day 4.
Now came the time to seal Player 5's fate.
Beep— Beep— Beep—
The farce ended as soon as it began—no need to watch further.
"To blow your last chance at redemption like this… Should I say I'm truly sorry?"
Instead of the expected restraints and heavy machinery descending on her chair, the host's voice broadcast through the speakers—contrary to what we'd seen with Player 6.
"What the… why am I the only one getting screwed? Before, you just shut up and watched…!" Player 5 shrieked at the different treatment from Player 6, who'd also been voted out.
"—Your scale's different from those other bitches. You've got five hundred million to pay back. Gotta give you the matching treatment, right?"
The host blabbed her undisclosed personal info without restraint.
"…Five hundred million alone?"
"Personal debt that huge…"
"Damn, she borrowed a ton. Must be some big shot."
"Can debt even get that high…?"
Unlike the survivors who could claw back with one prize payout, Player 5 would've needed five solo wins to see daylight again.
"—Kicking away rehab, wasting climb-out chances over and over, diving into this absurd game—you're irredeemable trash, a societal cancer. Time to cut it out."
The host from the world-dominating megacorp Asmo-Zeus sneered down at her ruined life.
Whirr—
A passage opened to somewhere, and an Executor emerged to facilitate the execution.
—……
"What the hell is that…?"
Unlike last time when she was bare-handed, the Executor now held a helmet. The tech-packed device didn't look like mere head protection.
"—One silver lining: some customer's buying this empty-headed bitch. All for that one pretty face. World's so fucking unfair, huh?"
Through the host's contempt and mockery, Player 5's fate was crystal clear.
Thud, thud—
Like a conveyor part in motion, the Executor advanced slowly, helmet in hand. No escape for contestants oblivious to their doom.
"Don't come closer…!" Her voice trembled, frozen in terror.
"Please… spare me…"
No resistance came to mind against the Executor's overwhelming power. She dropped to her knees, begging till her hands and feet bled.
Click—
As hot tears spilled from her despairing eyes, the Executor jammed the helmet on without a blink.
"Ugh?! I-I can't see?! T-Take it off! Hurry!"
Suddenly blinded, Player 5 flailed like she was drowning in deep ocean. She clawed desperately at the helmet, but the user-safety-free device wouldn't budge.
Whirr—
Bright light flooded the faceplate.
"Ah…"
Her hands, groping for the ropes, went limp. Her head lolled forward under the device's weight, consciousness lost in submission.
The Executor grabbed her hand and dragged her to the central chair. Unlike Player 6's violent struggle, she followed meekly, like a child with her parent.
Slide—
Player 5 lay back on the execution chair like a bed, guided along. The Executor kept her distance, no need to bind such a compliant subject.
The audience held their breath, eyes bulging, swallowing dryly in utter silence.
The rising gauge on the helmet marked the passage of time.
Beep—
The machine signaled completion on its own. The Executor easily removed the helmet.
"……"
The processed shell showed no trace of the prior desperation. A barcode scar under her eyes kindly announced she'd become merchandise.
"—Time for re-introductions. Inspecting the goods is the manufacturer's job."
The host signaled the reborn loser.
"I am Asmo-Zeus product V-F-489. I pledge my full loyalty to Asmo-Zeus, who redeemed my worthless life, and to my new owner who purchased me."
Her vacant eyes ignited on command. She sprang up, snapping a crisp salute toward the speaker.
"That's Asmo-Zeus tech for you…"
'They can do anything. No clue what the game's even for.'
Everyone gaped in horror at the dropout transformed by a single helmet. It felt like just the tip of the iceberg.
"—Even an hopeless debtor cleans up nice. Shake your ass real good so your new master doesn't ditch you."
"Yes! I will provide service befitting an Asmo-Zeus product to my owner!"
The satisfied product declared her zeal in a vigorous voice, then exited side-by-side with her brainwashing Executor.
"—The rest of you, enjoy the remaining time. As promised, we'll run the game through Day 5."
With three dropouts, four remained. Night fell once more on the trapped players, who silently retreated to their rooms.
*
"…What the fuck are they doing? Monster bastards."
Player 3 hadn't uttered a word since Player 5's special execution began. Only in her soundproof solitary room could she breathe.
"Haha, but I survived… I'm the winner."
Unsure of the game's goal, the scammer clung tenaciously to life in Asmo-Zeus's web.
"Tonight, that boring bitch drops out anyway. Then Player 2 has no choice but to hunt mafia with me. No way to catch 'em solo without votes."
She exhaled in relief at her perfect calculus—which was why she'd backstabbed debt-ridden Player 5 to reach Day 4.
"Split the prize halfsies, five grand each… Starting over won't be hard. Gotta put in more effort. Tch, if it weren't for those fake-ass cops."
She pondered flashy topside debuts via half the prize.
Plop—
Mid-dreaming, a pill-sized grain slid into her room. Her monologue shattered.
"This is…"
The scammer, eyes on the future, picked up the intruder on her desk.
"…A pill?!"
Her pupils shook wildly at the tiny tablet etched with a pink heart.