Tokyo: The Player Behind the Scenes.

Chapter 269, Part 12: Angel Game

Objective: Escape the dungeon

A line of text appeared in Park Min-woo's field of vision and then quickly disappeared.

Then, another line of blood-red words appeared, and not only the words, but also their meanings were injected into his brain.

Do your role well.

Is this a hint? Role-playing?

So this is someone else's body, and the memories that just flashed through my mind were those of that person.

Such a small amount of memory is far too little.

He stood there, looking down at his festering, swollen feet and the scabs hidden beneath his skin on his calves.

I pressed my teeth against my tongue; they felt slightly loose, and my gums were very uncomfortable.

Combined with the scattered memories from before, Park Min-woo had a rough idea of ​​who this person was.

Trench feet, Black people, numerous mosquito bite marks, scurvy, and fragments of recent memories.

Without a doubt, this person is a Black soldier from the Union Army who was captured by the Confederate Army during the Civil War.

But this single stone room is far more luxurious than the infamous Andersonville concentration camp.

He walked to the almost openwork iron gate and looked outside.

This is a circular area, somewhat like a plaza, with the most prominent feature being the two pillars standing in the center.

One is carved with an angel, its eyes filled with kindness.

A sword carved with a demon, its eyes closed.

Both pillars are illuminated by wall lamps, making the images of angels and demons clearly visible.

Besides the pillars, there was a long dining table on the ground with nine chairs, and the table was covered with a lot of canned food and biscuits.

The opposite wall was lined with the same cells, nine of them arranged in a circle. Each cell had a sizable cross above its iron door, and a Roman numeral was engraved on it.

Tuk Tuk.

Just as he was engrossed in watching, there was a knocking sound coming from the iron gate next to him.

Park Min-woo leaned against the iron gate as much as possible, and could barely make out a man dressed in tattered clothes, thin and bony, looking like he had been suffering from long-term malnutrition.

He also pressed his head against the iron gate, staring intently at Park Min-woo.

The cell next to him has a 5 on its cross, so he must be number 6. Let's call him number 6 for now.

"newcomer?"

The man spoke, his voice hoarse.

Park Min-woo's mind raced, unsure of the meaning behind the other person's words.

Is the question asking if he's a new player, or when he joined the game?
No, the other person is right next to him. If he had always been here, it's impossible that he was brought here without his knowledge and is asking himself a question.

The two men should have assumed that all nine people in the cells were brought in at the same time, and judging from their clothes and appearance, they might even have come from the same prisoner-of-war camp. This man was bluffing him.

"We came together, didn't we?"

Park Min-woo tried his best to look around and see what was happening in the other cells.

Number 6 smiled, as if he was about to say something, but suddenly his face turned red, he covered his throat, and after stammering for a long time, he couldn't utter a single word.

"really."

After a while, Number 6 finally started panting, looking even more exhausted.

“Number 7, you also came from the concentration camp, right? And you’re a black guy, so you should be a Union soldier like me.”

Park Min-woo nodded: "You—"

He was about to ask number 6 how many games he had played when his throat suddenly tightened, and he couldn't say a word, just like number 6 had just done.

"Hehe, you have to do your best here," Number 6 chuckled hoarsely, offering a reminder.

Park Min-woo knelt on the ground, panting, and roughly understood what Number 6 meant.

In the game, it's impossible to describe the situation in reality or the game itself; what they say must be based on the information available to the character, or rather, it cannot deviate too much from reality.

"Touch your right index finger," Number 6 suddenly said.

Upon hearing this, Park Min-woo touched his finger and discovered a ring on his index finger.

It was black and almost blended into his skin, which is why he didn't notice it immediately.

With a gentle touch, a line of information appeared in my mind.

You have sharp teeth.

What does it mean?
"What information do you have? Perhaps we can exchange it." Number 6 knocked on the iron gate and asked, "I can say first, mine is 'You have hair'."

Park Min-woo was somewhat suspicious; he didn't have much trust in Number 6.

Nobody knows what this information is about right now.

Seeing that Park Min-woo did not respond, Number 6 chuckled twice, seemingly unperturbed, and then closed his eyes to rest.

Besides them, there were other people talking in the dungeon, which Park Min-woo silently noted down.

First, every cell was occupied, and not all of them were from the concentration camp; some were residents of the town.

“We were escorted here.” Number 2 stroked his chin, it was unclear whether he figured it out from his memory or some other clue.

"I was supposed to be here for a job interview, but I don't know why I ended up here," Number 9 said.

After thinking it over carefully, Number 1 suddenly spoke up: "I feel like we're about the same age."

Number 2 nodded: "Yes, and also, the pattern in the room seems to be related to some kind of ritual."

Park Min-woo listened without saying a word. He noticed that number 8 next to him was the same; he hadn't said a word either.

Uh, there's also number 5.

He'd been choking her for a while now, her tongue lolling out, her eyes almost rolling back in her head.

From his perspective, it seemed like number 5 really wanted to speak, but every time he tried to say something, it went against what the character was supposed to say, so his throat was stuck and he couldn't utter a single word.

I feel like my brain isn't working too well.

Click.

During the casual exchange of information, the door to cell number 1 opened automatically, the metallic sound echoing back.

Everyone looked over, but no one spoke.

"I opened this door myself."

Number 1 explained the sentence, then walked out the door. He first turned his head to carefully observe the cross above his cell, and then walked to the long table full of food.

"Here is a piece of paper that says 'Welcome to the Angel Game.'"

"The game will last for nine days. Only the victor can leave the dungeon and inherit the manor's wealth. You have no right to refuse."

"During the day: The angel statue will spit out one animal and three animals that it can subdue."

"Dinner: The demon statue will vomit three questions. Players 1-3 (4-6 on the second day, 7-9 on the third day, and so on) can each choose one question to ask any player. Players must answer truthfully."

"Night: Everyone must tell the demon the number to be killed tonight, and the demon will randomly select one to carry out the killing. If the animal to be killed is one that counters oneself, then one will die."

"At dawn: Announce the results. If no one dies, it means someone chose the wrong restraint relationship, and the characteristic is exposed to everyone. If someone chooses to kill him that night, the demon will have priority."

"The one who kills two people may leave the dungeon."

"Now, the game begins."

Click click click.

The other eight iron doors opened automatically.

Number 6 was so thin he looked like a skeleton. He slowly walked out and immediately sat down in a chair to eat.

A group of people gathered around Number 1, carefully examining the letter.

Park Min-woo followed the crowd out of the cell, glanced to the side, and saw that Cell No. 8 next to him was looking at him. The two nodded to each other in silence, as if to say hello.

So, can only one of us survive?

Number 9 circled the two pillar statues several times, and found nothing wrong with them from the outside.

“这里只有9个人”2号意有所指。    9号明白他的暗示，现在的玩家一共有12人，这里只有9个，说明还有3个被分配到了其他地方。

But to find out where they are, we'll have to wait until this round of the game is over.

Swish.

A rolled-up piece of paper, like a scroll, fell from a crack in the shadows of the angel statue.

Number 5, whose attention had been focused on the angel statue, gleamed and lunged forward, grabbing the scroll before it hit the ground.

"All eyes, look to me!"

Number 5 stepped directly onto a chair, picked up the scroll in his mouth with his hand, and held it high.

"."

Park Min-woo roughly understands why Number 5 has been constantly being held hostage.

Number 5 seemed quite pleased with the attention he was receiving, and was almost about to hum a soft hum.

Without further delay, he unrolled the scroll.

It was a very simple drawing, seemingly a crow, carrying a wriggling worm or snake in its beak, and its two paws each holding a cat and a beetle.

Number 9's brow twitched. What kind of crow dares to catch a cat? Is that even reasonable?
"The meaning of the painting should be that the crow restrains the snake, cat, and beetle."

Number 1 stood under the painting, carefully examined it, and confirmed it.

Park Min-woo finally understood the game's operating logic.

The player's goal is to avoid being discovered as an animal while figuring out what animal others are, then use clues from the drawings to determine if they can control the other person, and finally choose to kill the other person in a nightly vote.

The character can survive if they kill two people.

Does this mean the game is over?

The moment this thought crossed his mind, he became wary of everyone he looked at and clutched his ring tightly.

Number 2 frowned, wanting to say something but unable to utter a word.

"I suggest that everyone disclose their information and then follow the rules." Number 1 guessed what he was going to say and expressed it in a different way.

Experienced players understand what this means: the first round is free action, where players can gather as many clues as possible.

“Okay! I have no objection.” Number 5, who was standing on the chair, was the first to respond.

Number 1 gave Number 9 a look: Is this guy Hayato?

Number 9 looked closely and gave a knowing look: Hayato should be number 4.

Number 1 probably understands, so numbers 5, 7, and 8 are all newcomers.

Moreover, judging from number 5's strong desire to perform, it's not hard to guess that he's probably the Frenchman who uses his full name as a nickname.

She is Taki, number 9 is Uesugi, and number 2 is Nobita.

Number 4 is Hayato, number 3 should be either Ta or Yui, and number 6 is Ethan.

Although I can't directly reveal their identity, I've had some contact with them over time, so I can roughly guess who they are from their speaking habits.

The problem now is that it seems the number of winners in this game is fixed.

For every winner, there is a loser.

In the past, games simply meant that not everyone could achieve a perfect ending, but everyone had the opportunity to achieve an excellent ending.

And in this game, no one can say for sure what the consequences will be if you lose.

You might only get the worst reward; it's a winner-takes-all game.

This will undoubtedly create a trust problem among players, since most players do not want to sacrifice themselves.

"My message is [You have wings]!" Number 5 kept his word and said it out loud, but only he knows whether this message is true or not.

“I am Fang,” Takii said second.

"I am four-legged." Uesugi was the third.

"."

Someone started it, and everyone shared their information.

Park Min-woo sensed that these people weren't playing this game for the first time. He wasn't sure if this was a trap or a genuine collaboration. Gritting his teeth, he chose one of the "two wings" information from the information they had already provided as his own.

His information is fangs, and the first clue matches both snake and cat, which means he'd better not choose players with crow-like characteristics.

The problem now is that he has absolutely no idea what animals he can control.

"Looks like we'll have to pick randomly. Judging from the performance of these veteran players, the game definitely offers more than one chance. Let's treat this as information gathering."

Time passed quickly. After they finished their conversation, with a snap, the angel closed his eyes, while the demon opened them, a sinister smile on his face, as if mocking everyone.

The demon statue opened its mouth and spat out three questions.

Most players were immobilized and unable to move.

Only Taki, as number 1, can act, and according to the rules, she can choose first.

Her gaze shifted from the question, then she glanced, intentionally or unintentionally, at Park Min-woo, who was tense all over.

The latter felt a tightness in his scalp and a chill on the back of his neck, as if he were being watched by prey.

“I choose to ask number 7.” Taki walked up to Park Min-woo. “Can you fly?”

Park Min-woo's eyes were slightly open.

It was clear that the other party remembered the information he had given: two wings.

Those with two wings can basically fly.
No, it won't happen.

His face turned bright red, but he couldn't lie.

Taki simply nodded: "We need a little trust."

Park Min-woo was panting and remained silent.

At least he now knows he has one more characteristic: he can't fly.

Nobita asked Uesugi, which was also her request: "Is your appearance black?"

In truth, Uesugi didn't know the answer either; his body simply responded automatically, "Yes."

Number 5's eyes lit up; four-legged, black—it looked exactly like the cat in the painting!
Nobita also thought of this and patted his forehead.

Uesugi didn't really care, since she didn't even know if she represented the cat.

Number 3 is Tian. He asked Takii if she was hibernating.

"Yes."

After the Q&A session, guided by the rings, each person came before the demon and silently stated the number they wanted to kill.

Then, the ring will force them back to their respective cells, and then the lights will gradually go out, slowly dragging everything into the deep darkness.

All the players were unable to speak at this moment, and there was a deathly silence all around.

In the midst of this utter darkness and silence, a sudden, extremely shrill scream rang out.

It's like someone having their bones broken while they're still alive, and then being disemboweled while they're still fresh.

Dong dong du.

It sounded like something was being nailed to the wall.

Then came the ticking sound.

Park Min-woo touched his body and let out a long sigh.

It all seemed so real, and that scream was filled with pain; just hearing it sent chills down your spine.

In this eerie silence, the candlelight slowly flickered back on, and perhaps it was just my imagination, but the color seemed a little darker.

Right across from Park Min-woo, in cell number 1, a gray-black snake with an unusually large amount of blood was nailed to a cross.

The crimson blood stained the Roman numeral, dripping onto the ground and flowing along a groove-like pattern towards the center of the angel and demon statues.

The demon closed its eyes.

The angel opened his eyes.

(End of this chapter)