The year is 2247. Humanity clings to existence within the vertical mega-cities known as the Cages, where the ruling Holders feast on luxury while the Resources beneath them are property—nothing more. Article Seven of the law says it plainly: killing a Resource is merely property damage.
Kaito has known nothing but the lower levels since birth. He learned young how to erase his own expression, how to survive in a world that sees him as disposable. Now eighteen, he has clawed his way through the
A Will for the Survivors - The Chosen Beast — The Price of Kindness
Morning in the Tower of Veruna announced itself in the color of the light — a shade that belonged nowhere in the Sunadokei District.
Kaito stood at the window of the room they'd been given, looking out over the upper tiers of the Cage. White walls, polished metal, greenery arranged in perfect rows. The air was clean, the temperature held constant, and the people moving in the distance looked like pieces in an elaborate model.
(There's nothing here.)
That was what Kaito thought.
The ruins of Sunadokei had wind. They had the smell of iron and blood and dust. Every chunk of rubble underfoot carried the trace of someone who had lived. This tower had none of it.
The words Duke Veruna had spoken at that lavish dinner, smiling as he said them, still lingered deep in Kaito's ears.
—You belong to me.
So human rights meant the right to be owned. Since the night before, Kaito had been chewing on what those words really meant.
In the corner of the room, a gray servant's uniform lay folded. The clothes that marked the "role" assigned to Kaito and Ren in this mansion. Not a privilege granted to champions — a uniform for the ones being managed.
Kaito picked it up.
The fabric was far finer than the work clothes he'd worn in Sunadokei. The stitching was careful, without a single loose thread. But at the collar, a small stamp marking them as resources had been sewn on, firm and unmistakable.
(In the end, it's the same.)
Kaito changed and left the room.
The corridor was silent.
The thick carpet swallowed his footsteps; the air did not move. Portraits of champions past lined the walls at even intervals. Every face wore the same kind of smile, and every pair of eyes looked somewhere far away.
(What happened to these people afterward?)
Kaito looked up at one of the portraits.
A young man in a golden frame, standing proud with the hourglass monument of Sunadokei at his back. His face was full of hope.
(Where is he now? What is he doing?)
No answer came.
Kaito walked on.
On his way to the servants' waiting room, at the far end of the corridor, he saw a row of apprentice servants lined up.
Young men and women in gray uniforms.
All of them stood along the wall, heads slightly bowed. A middle-aged man who appeared to be the head servant was calmly explaining the day's duties in front of them.
Kaito tried to pass by the end of the line.
That was when it happened.
The face of one man in the middle of the row caught in the corner of his vision.
(...Him.)
Kaito's feet stopped.
Short-cropped black hair. Sharp eyes. An old scar running down his left cheek.
There was no mistake.
He was a participant who should have been definitively "eliminated" in Sunadokei.
One of the group that had fallen into the trap in the northern block, if Kaito remembered right. Lured out by the false ring signals the oddsmen had scattered, attacked by a trio, his skull crushed — that was how Kaito remembered it.
(He should be dead.)
Kaito stared at the man.
The man gazed at the wall in front of him with hollow eyes. Unfocused. His mouth hung slightly open. His cheeks were sunken, his skin pale.
The head servant called the man's name.
"Number Seventeen. Today you're assigned to cleaning in the underground block."
The man did not react.
"Number Seventeen. Do you hear me?"
The head servant's tone sharpened slightly.
Slowly, the man tilted his head.
"...Y-yes."
His voice was hoarse, empty of feeling.
Even when his own name was called, his response lagged. As if he were confirming the meaning of each word, one at a time — that awkwardness.
(His memories are being erased.)
Kaito was certain.
The participants eliminated in Sunadokei had not been killed. Parts of their memories were wiped, and they were reassigned as servants of this mansion, scattered to other blocks.
(So that's how it is.)
Something cold sank deep in Kaito's chest.
Was his own survival traded for this man's reassignment? The thought raised its head.
(Because I survived, this man is here.)
Kaito couldn't look away.
At the head servant's direction, the man left the line and started walking down the corridor. Toward the dim staircase leading to the underground block.
His back was small, and frail.
(Should I tell Ren?)
The thought crossed Kaito's mind for an instant.
But he shook his head at once.
(No. I won't.)
If he told Ren, there was no telling how Ren would move. It might compromise the mission. Now was not yet the time to act.
Kaito clenched his fist and left the spot.
Guilt clung bitter at the back of his throat.
—
Night came.
Night in the Tower of Veruna was even quieter than the day.
The lights were lowered, and the corridors sank into darkness. The portraits on the walls floated vaguely in the pale glow of the emergency lamps.
Kaito sat against the wall in his room.
When he closed his eyes, the face of the man he'd seen that day burned behind his lids and would not leave.
(Noa.)
He hadn't known the name. But he remembered the face. A man who'd been in the same block during the Sunadokei preliminaries. He'd been moving with a partner, if Kaito recalled.
(He ended up like that because I survived.)
Kaito bit his lip.
(No. He was eliminated because he wasn't strong enough. It's not my fault.)
He told himself that.
But the cold lump deep in his chest would not go away.
(If I had made a different choice back then—)
(He might be somewhere else now, living some other life.)
Kaito opened his eyes.
The ceiling was white and sterile.
(...Enough thinking.)
Kaito stood.
—
The next morning, Kaito and Ren sat side by side in the event operations preparation room.
The room was in a corner of the basement, its walls plastered edge to edge with maps of Sunadokei, participant rosters, odds tables, and the like.
Stacks of documents piled on the desks, and terminal screens cast a pale blue light.
Pretending to read the papers, Kaito kept his awareness on the man standing in the corner of the room, facing the wall.
(It's Noa.)
The man he'd seen in the corridor that day.
Noa stood in the corner of the operations room, still as if staring at a stain on the wall.
In the gray servant's uniform, both arms hanging limp, his back curved.
(So they've got him doing event prep too.)
Kaito looked at Noa's profile.
Even with parts of his memory erased, fragments of something remained. That was the impression he gave.
Then Noa slowly raised his head.
His hollow eyes caught Kaito.
"...You."
Noa's mouth moved.
Kaito tensed.
"You — I know you. In Sunadokei, you were in the same block as me. You survived."
Noa's voice was hoarse.
But in his eyes was a faint light that hadn't been there during the day.
"...Yeah."
Kaito answered briefly.
Noa took a step toward him.
"Because you people survived, we got chosen."
Noa's voice trembled.
"Because you won, we got brought here. Our memories wiped, used like dolls."
Kaito couldn't say anything.
"It's your fault. Because you survived, I ended up like this."
Noa reached to grab Kaito by the collar.
But his hand fell away halfway, strengthless.
"...No. I don't hate you. I don't hate you. It's just — when I remember, it hurts, it hurts so much."
Noa clutched his head.
"Who am I? What am I being made to do? I don't understand. I don't understand any of it."
Noa collapsed where he stood.
Kaito stood frozen.
(I can't argue.)
(He's right.)
(Because I survived, he's here.)
(My survival rests on his sacrifice.)
Kaito's breathing grew ragged.
His chest hurt.
He couldn't draw air properly.
(No. I was desperate to live. I didn't survive because I wanted to sacrifice someone.)
(But the result is the same.)
(I used him as a stepping stone.)
Kaito clenched his fist.
His nails dug into his palm.
The pain barely kept him sane.
"...Noa."
Kaito called the man's name low.
"What are they making you do here?"
Noa raised his face.
It was a mess of tears.
"...I don't know. Underground, they make me carry things, make me touch machines. I just do what I'm ordered. They told me not to think. They told me not to feel."
Noa spoke in a shaking voice.
"But when I saw your face, I remembered. I was human. I shouldn't be here. I want to run. Run away and live normally somewhere."
Noa clung to Kaito's leg.
"Help me. You're a champion, right? You have power, right? Get me out of here."
Kaito looked down at Noa's hand.
(I can't help him.)
(I have no power at all.)
(I'm the same as him. The Duke's property.)
Kaito crouched and put a hand on Noa's shoulder.
"...Calm down."
Kaito spoke quietly.
"Right now, don't do anything. Don't stand out. Survive. Think only of that."
Noa stared at Kaito's face.
"...Will you help me?"
Kaito didn't answer.
"...I understand. I'll trust you."
With that, Noa slowly rose.
And he went back to the corner of the room.
Kaito watched his retreating back.
(Don't trust me. Don't trust me.)
(I can't save you.)
Kaito screamed it inside his heart.
—
In the early afternoon, Kaito called Ren to a corner of the corridor.
"...It's about Noa."
Kaito spoke low.
"What about him?"
Ren answered lightly.
"He ended up like that because I survived. I want him out of the event."
Ren's smile vanished.
"Out? How?"
"...I don't know. But there has to be a way."
"There isn't."
Ren said it flatly.
"That man is a risk factor. His memories are starting to come back. If we let something like that run loose, our mission is in danger."
"So you're saying abandon him."
Kaito glared at Ren.
"Yeah. He's already past saving. If we get involved, we get dragged down with him."
"Don't give me that."
Kaito's voice rose.
"He's the same as us. He just had bad luck. I'm not abandoning him."
"...Kaito."
Ren's voice dropped.
"That kindness of yours is going to get someone killed."
Kaito caught his breath.
"If you sympathize with Noa and make some strange move, the Duke will find it amusing. And Noa will suffer worse. Your kindness will kill Noa."
Ren's eyes were cold.
"...You're always like this. You move by profit and loss. You cut people loose. Is that how you've lived?"
Kaito forced the words out.
"Yeah. That's how I've lived. You too, right? After everything you saw in the facility, you can still say something that naive?"
For the first time, emotion entered Ren's voice.
"I'm different from you. I'll find a way that doesn't sacrifice anyone."
"There is no such way. It doesn't exist in this world."
Ren spat the words.
"Your pretty ideals will end up killing someone in the end. Don't you get that?"
The two faced off in the corridor.
Silence fell.
A heavy silence.
"...Forget it."
Kaito looked away.
"Talking to you is pointless."
Kaito turned his back and walked off.
"Kaito."
Ren called after him.
Kaito stopped.
"...I don't hate that kindness of yours. But in this world, it's a sin."
Ren's voice was quiet.
Kaito didn't turn around.
"...Like I care."
That was all he said before leaving.
—
In the evening, Kaito walked the corridor leading to the Duke's office.
He'd been ordered to deliver documents.
When he reached the door of the office, he heard voices from inside.
"...Regarding procedures that fall outside the rules — how should we handle them?"
It was Sara's voice.
Kaito stopped.
"Outside the rules?"
The Duke's calm voice.
"Yes. I wished to confirm with you regarding procedures that fall outside the rules governing the event's operation."
Sara's voice was businesslike.
But something in her words caught Kaito's attention.
(Outside the rules.)
(What did that woman just say to the Duke?)
Kaito slipped into the shadow of the door.
"...Oh? Outside the rules. That's an interesting way to put it."
The Duke's voice carried a smile.
"Explain to me exactly what procedures you're referring to."
"...My apologies. That was my mistake. I will keep my confirmation within the bounds of the rules."
Sara's voice wavered slightly.
"No, it's fine. This 'outside the rules' of yours — I'm very interested."
The
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