Barrel Roulette (1)
Two days later
"Nnh..."
When I opened my eyes, it was that same unfamiliar ceiling. Which meant this goddamn situation wasn't a dream.
"Check... castling... gambit..."
I muttered under my breath from the bed the Demon King had lent me. Apparently an eight-by-eight checkered board had been seared into my retinas. That lunatic hadn't let me sleep for two days straight, forcing me to play chess. And with genuine malice, every time exhaustion dragged my eyelids shut, she'd jolt me awake with electric magic.
This is torture. She's trying to shatter my mind.
The only reason I'd finally been allowed to sleep was because she'd captured my queen for the first time. Not the king — the queen. That alone had sent the corners of her mouth shooting so high she'd given me permission to rest.
When are they coming? The other high-rank raid parties.
All I could do was wait for them, endlessly.
It'd have to be at least the Black Dragon Guild.
My party members from the other day — the ones who'd gotten their skulls caved in — were idiots, granted, but they ranked among the strongest in this world. I'd never seen them lose before. Meaning if a bunch of nobodies came swarming in, they'd just pile up as corpses.
I have to find some way to let people know I'm trapped here.
Before that... I needed to check on my party members first. But the one who'd dragged them off was the Demon King. Whether she'd killed them or deep-fried them for a snack, I'd have to ask her myself.
Clunk—
Creeeak—
I stepped out of the room I'd been sleeping in — well, the room I'd been unconscious in — into a corridor thick with darkness and fog. It might as well have had a sign that read: Top Floor of the Tower.
Living alone in a place like this... yeah, I guess it would get pretty boring.
I had a lot of questions for the Demon King. Of course, she might take them as defiance and snap on me... but it was something I'd have to say eventually anyway.
Now then, where was she?
Just in case, I opened the door to the room where I'd been tortured with chess.
Clunk— creeeak.
!!!!
There she was, sitting in the exact same spot as before I'd passed out, still playing chess.
This crazy woman. Doesn't she ever get sick of it?
"You're up?"
She patted the chair across from her with her palm, as if telling me to hurry up and sit down.
This psycho. She's serious.
...Fine. I'll play chess and wait for the right moment.
Her skill had improved quite a bit by now. I didn't need to go easy on her anymore. Quite the talent, really. Of course, she'd never actually beaten me.
I watched her carefully, and when she captured my knight, I cautiously broached the subject.
"So... where are my party members?"
"I sent them home."
!!!
The answer, delivered without taking her round, wide eyes off the chessboard, was astonishing.
"F-for real..?"
"I don't lie."
This was good news. Incredibly good news.
I thought she was pretty smart.
Apparently not. My party members — those spiteful bastards who never let a grudge go — would head back to the kingdom and spill everything about how strong the Demon King was. Then countless rankers who'd heard the rumors would come flooding in like a tidal wave.
Heh heh heh. Enjoy yourself while you can. I'll tear you into sixty-four pieces!
When that happens, even this woman won't have a choice.
"You shouldn't get your hopes up."
My hand, which had been moving a bishop, froze in midair at the Demon King's words.
"I erased all their memories of this place before I sent them off."
!!!!!!
Akashic Master!
A memory-manipulation ability that, according to lore, only three people on the entire continent possessed. I'd heard two of them were somewhere out in the world...
The last one was YOU?!
I was screwed. Those idiots were already dumb enough — now that they'd lost their memories, there was no way they'd tell anyone I was trapped here.
Despair washed over me until the world went dark. I'd rather be stranded under a bridge on the Han River.
"Haa..."
A quiet sigh slipped out of me before I could stop it, and the Demon King — who'd been holding a knight, pondering her next move — went completely still.
Oh no.
Silence settled over us again. There was nothing I could do about those crimson eyes boring straight through my heart. I realized my mistake. Cold sweat ran down my spine.
"Wh-what? No, it's fun! Can't you see I'm sweating from passion?"
Too late, I think. The Demon King's crimson eyes, which moments ago had been so full of life they seemed ready to dive into the chessboard, were draining of all color. That was all the proof I needed.
"Okay."
She swept the pieces off the board into a pouch with her hand. Then she picked up the board and stood.
Tap, tap.
Clunk— thud.
The Demon King walked out the door.
You idiot... this is it for me.
This time I was really going to die. I'd personally destroyed my only value. Now I was just a rag she couldn't even play with — no reason to keep me alive.
Guess I'll just pray.
Please let it be painless and over in one shot. And may Nine, Rebecca, Yuria, and Dorothy writhe in the sulfur fires of hell.
—Clunk
—Creeeak.
The Demon King came back. This time carrying a wooden box. A flicker of relief rose in me — maybe it was another game?
Click.
Then I saw what came out of the box, and I nearly had a heart attack. It was packed with more knives than I could even count.
"Just flick me on the forehead!!"
Not this, you crazy bitch!
The Demon King tilted her head.
"...A forehead flick? ...You actually want to get hit? You like forehead flicks?"
"Yeah. I love them. They're what I live for."
At least it's better than those knives.
"Well... okay. You should've said so sooner. I'll just grab that and hit you with it."
What she brought back from outside the room this time was a giant oak barrel. And then she stuffed a pirate-shaped doll into it.
Wait... hang on.
Is this that game?
She breathed a hot puff of air onto her forehead-flick-loaded hand and reached toward me.
"C'mere."
"Ah, no, I'm good now. Thanks. I'll take the hit next time."
The knives were real knives, and the barrel was so huge I hadn't even considered it... but this was apparently the stick-knives-in-a-barrel game.
Unlike with chess, the Demon King already knew the rules of this game. You take turns sticking knives into the slots. The slots dwindle one by one, and whoever hits the slot that makes the pirate doll pop out loses.
In other words, it's all luck.
She said she'd watched a party that had entered the Tower playing it and copied it. The problem was she also wanted to copy the penalty that party had used.
"The loser gets a forehead flick."
...This is a death game!
Does this woman have zero awareness of her own strength?
Suddenly this had become a dark duel with lives on the line. Of course, the only life at stake was mine. I wanted to dropkick the face of whichever Earthling party member had taught her forehead flicks.
"Can we skip the forehead flick bet? Pretty please, it's my wish."
"No. I wanna try it."
I'm going to die, you asshole.
Regardless, the first game began.
Me first.
Shunk.
The doll didn't pop out.
She pulled a knife from the box. Then shunk, she jammed it in. Another miss.
"...Heheh... ihihih..."
!?
The Demon King suddenly covered her mouth with one hand and started giggling to herself. Apparently playing a game with another person was just that much fun.
Don't laugh...
It's scary...
My turn again. I dragged out the motion of shoving the sword in as long as I possibly could. I was trying to figure out a way to survive.
Shunk—
Another miss.
She, who'd been having the time of her life all by herself, eagerly pulled out a knife.
What do I do... what do I do. How do I keep this competitive maniac satisfied without getting forehead-flicked...
Fwoosh—
Huh?
The pirate doll shot up into the dark air off the blade she'd just inserted, then crashed onto the floor. Wow, it flew pretty high...
Wait, more importantly...
You idiot! You can't end it in four turns! I was still thinking...
I immediately checked the Demon King's expression.
W-wait?
Amazingly, she wasn't angry at all. If anything, she looked electrified, like she'd just chugged a whole bottle of ice-cold soda.
So losing to luck doesn't bother her?
She's a competitor down to her bones.
"Okay, hit me!"
She scampered over to me, swept her bangs aside, and presented her pale forehead.
She wants me to hit her?
Wouldn't my finger break instead? I'll just hit her gently.
"Ah, wait. You're weak, so let's make it fair."
Saying that, she began concentrating her mana.
...!
Is this for real?
I thought I might faint from shock. Magic circles — drawing three or more simultaneously is considered the threshold of an Archmage. And yet... and yet. Uncountable magic circles layered themselves across the floor.
...One, two, three...
I gave up counting at sixteen. To put it in perspective, it was more than twice as difficult as writing ten different characters simultaneously, one with each finger. She was a genius beyond all standards.
"Auto Guard — off."
"Magic Guard — off."
"Dimension Wall — off."
"Protection of Demeter — off..."
⟨ Defensive Skills: Deactivating ⟩
Each time she chanted, a magic circle vanished. No wonder our party got shredded — she was walking around with a whole Christmas tree of monstrous passives hanging off her. After a long while, she stopped chanting.
"I turned off all my defense skills. Okay, hit me now."
I'm fucked.
The problem with games that involve pain is that the unlucky loser's rage stacks higher and higher. The one getting hit might smile on the outside, but inside they're so consumed with spite they can't stop the game until they've ground the other person into paste and drunk it.
I was at least somewhat relieved thinking that even if I hit her it wouldn't hurt at all...
No choice. I have to hit as gently as possible. Like stroking a newborn chick.
I drained every ounce of strength from the hand I'd formed into a forehead flick. I swallowed hard and slowly reached out.
"Hey. You can't go easy. You have to hit as hard as you can."
Ugh...
It's over. If I hit weakly she'll throw another fit. She might even hit me as a demonstration of how it's done.
Praying desperately that this forehead flick wouldn't kill her, I put force into my finger.
—Thwack!
Huh?
The Demon King's upper body tilted from the flick.
Thud!
HUH?!
"W-wait..."
She toppled straight over backward.
"Huh? Huh? Ah... ow... that hurts."
The Demon King clutched her forehead with wide, startled rabbit eyes. It was the face of someone who'd... never been hit in her entire life.
"A-are you okay? Let me see."
I was more terrified than worried — terrified enough to piss myself — but I held it in. I pulled down the Demon King's hand covering her forehead. It was swollen red.
That wasn't the problem.
The problem was...
The problem was what was welling up in the Demon King's crimson eyes.
!!!
Mother. Father. I'm sorry. It seems this unworthy son of yours won't be able to visit you... I won't be buying any indulgences.
Tears were welling up in the Demon King's eyes.