In a near-future society, humanity is split into rulers and the ruled. The ruled have no rights. Children without parents are raised in facilities and shipped out as disposable resources once they reach adulthood. Werner, a noble of the ruling class, hosts death games as entertainment using these people. The preliminaries are a simple war of attrition—hundreds run, and only survivors advance. The champion of the main event is promised "human rights."
Kaito and Ren, both facility-raised, survive
A Will for the Survivors - The City of Hourglasses — Two People Picking Up an Escape Hole
The air in the Sunadokei District was still cold, even past noon.
The shadows cast by the cluster of abandoned factories stretched long, drawing dark streaks across the cracked concrete ground. Kaito sat with his back pressed into a hollow in a crumbling wall, perfectly still.
His breathing was shallow. His shoulders were slack. Only his eyes moved, constantly, restlessly.
In the distance, a man's shout echoed. The sound of metal striking concrete. Then the crash of something heavy toppling over.
The finals had begun less than half a day ago.
And yet, the Sunadokei District had already become a hunting ground where people stalked people.
Kaito sat with his knees drawn up, his gaze fixed on the bracelet-type resource terminal on his wrist.
On its surface was a small window displaying the number of rings in his possession. Right now, it read "0."
This device — called a tag — was linked to the micro-bombs implanted in every participant's carotid artery. If time ran out, or if a rule was broken, they would detonate on the spot. They could not be removed.
Location data was streamed to the audience in real time.
In other words, as long as he stayed here, the holders in the upper tiers knew exactly where he was.
But the possession count was different.
Unless you picked up a ring and claimed it, the terminal would keep displaying "0."
The moment Kaito had realized this, he had chosen to present himself as a harmless presence.
Trust no one. Show nothing.
Don't even become an object of the audience's bets.
Just a weak participant, vanishing into the crowd.
That was the strategy Kaito had chosen.
Beyond the wall, footsteps approached.
Two people. No — three.
Kaito didn't stir.
The footsteps stopped just short of the hollow where Kaito was hiding.
"Hey, was he over here?"
"Beats me. Didn't see him."
"That kid — he definitely ran this way, right?"
"Who cares. If he doesn't have any rings, he's not worth chasing."
The three men didn't bother searching any further.
Their conversation reached Kaito's ears clearly.
Anyone without rings had no value.
In this game, if there was nothing to take, there was barely even a reason to kill.
Kaito watched from the shadow of the wall as they walked away.
The men's backs disappeared beyond the ruined factory.
And then, immediately after—
"Ahh, man. This is getting dangerous, huh."
The voice dropped down from directly above.
Kaito looked up.
A boy sat perched about two meters up, where thick rusted pipes intersected.
Brown, curly hair. Bright amber eyes. Freckles dusted his cheeks, and his mouth curved in what looked like a smile.
The sleeves of his gray work clothes were rolled up to the elbows. His thin arms were covered in a lattice of small, old scars.
Kaito recognized him.
This was the boy who, right after the finals began, had slipped away from the crowd behind the monument and vanished into the depths of the ruins.
The boy sat on the pipe with one knee raised, looking down at Kaito.
His posture was utterly relaxed — as if he were striking up a conversation with an old acquaintance.
"You've been sitting there this whole time, haven't you?"
Kaito didn't answer.
The boy continued, unbothered.
"Those three guys walked right past you, and they didn't notice a thing. That's some serious hiding."
Kaito rose slowly to his feet.
Keeping his back to the wall, he didn't take his eyes off the boy.
"You're the same."
His voice came out flatter than he'd expected.
The boy tilted his head slightly.
The gesture looked almost theatrically innocent.
"Am I? I was just watching from above, that's all."
"Liar."
Kaito's voice was short, dry.
"You were up there from the start. Before those three even showed up, you were holding your breath. You're good at erasing your presence."
The boy's smile froze — just for an instant.
A fraction of a second.
But Kaito's eyes didn't miss the shift.
The boy dropped lightly from the pipe.
His landing barely made a sound.
"Huh. You're interesting."
The boy stood directly in front of Kaito.
The distance between them was about three paces.
Not close enough to reach out and touch.
Just far enough for each to read the other's movements.
Kaito looked into the boy's eyes.
Bright amber.
And behind them, something entirely different from the smile was sinking.
Kaito could see it.
This boy was smiling.
But his eyes weren't.
He was the kind of person who wielded a friendly grin as a weapon.
"I'm Ren. Nice to meet you."
The boy gave his name.
Kaito didn't respond in kind.
"Is there any point in names?"
"Nope. But it's inconvenient without something to call each other, right?"
"The rules of this game say we're called by numbers."
"Rules, huh."
Ren laughed.
Out loud, this time.
"You don't really look like the rule-following type, though."
"Is that so."
That was all Kaito said before peeling his back off the wall.
"See you."
He turned on his heel.
"Wait."
Ren's voice chased after him.
"You don't have any rings, do you?"
Kaito's feet stopped.
He didn't turn around.
"Neither do you."
Silence.
Wind slipped between the rusted pipes, drawing out a faint metallic hum.
"Let's go with that, then."
The smile had vanished from Ren's voice.
Kaito glanced back over his shoulder — just barely.
Ren wasn't smiling anymore.
His face was blank.
Colder than any participant Kaito had seen so far.
Kaito said nothing and started walking.
Ren didn't follow.
No words passed between them.
But deep in Kaito's chest, a certainty remained.
That boy was the same breed.
And he was dangerous.
The afternoon in the Sunadokei District tilted slowly toward evening.
Kaito had hidden himself on the second floor of a collapsed factory on the north side of the district.
Every window was shattered, letting the outside air pour straight in.
The floor was littered with old machine parts and fragments of broken pipes.
Countless metal fittings — remnants of whatever had once hung there — jutted from the walls.
Kaito gazed out the window.
In the distance, he could see the hourglass-shaped monument.
Thirty meters tall.
A giant hourglass towering at the center of the district.
From the upper glass chamber, fine sand trickled down, endlessly, slowly.
When all that sand had fallen, the game would end.
The survival line was three points.
Sixty rings in total.
Kaito glanced at his terminal.
The display still read "0."
He hadn't picked up a single ring yet.
At this rate, he'd die when time ran out.
But now was still not the time to move.
While the other participants scrambled over each other searching for rings, moving would only make him conspicuous.
The killing would begin once the locations of the rings had become somewhat clear.
Kaito left the window and sat down against the wall.
His stomach growled softly.
The last thing he'd eaten was the ration paste from before insertion.
Gray, tasteless, packed with nothing but nutrients.
He'd eaten it almost every day back in Sodateya Block 7.
Kaito searched the pockets of his work clothes.
Empty.
No food was provided.
No water, either.
In this game, you had to find every means of survival yourself.
Kaito closed his eyes.
He didn't intend to sleep.
He was just resting his body, conserving energy.
How long had he been like that?
The air outside shifted, just slightly.
Kaito opened his eyes.
From far away, he heard the sound of a loudspeaker.
No — not a loudspeaker.
The speakers installed throughout the district.
The same woman's voice that had announced the rules that morning began to flow quietly.
"Hello, participants. This is Sara Nokkusu, operations assistant."
Kaito kept his back against the wall and listened.
"Beginning now, I will patrol each district and conduct a re-confirmation of the rules. The same information will be sent to your terminals, so please review it."
Her voice was businesslike, impossible to read.
"The venue for the finals is the entirety of the Sunadokei District. The time limit is until the central hourglass empties. The survival line is three points. Sixty rings are hidden throughout the venue."
Kaito looked at his terminal screen.
Sure enough, the same notification had arrived.
"By taking a ring into your possession, the count is confirmed and displayed on your terminal. If your possession count is below three points when time expires, the micro-bomb in your carotid artery will activate."
Kaito exhaled.
He knew this.
He'd heard it in the morning announcement.
But the next sentence was different.
"Additionally, unconfirmed rings are not displayed on your terminal. Unless you pick them up, your possession count remains at zero. Please be aware."
Kaito's fingers stopped.
Unconfirmed rings are not displayed on the terminal.
Unless you pick them up.
In other words — if you kept them hidden.
Kaito raised his head slowly.
Invisible to the audience. Invisible to the oddsmen.
The speaker's voice continued.
"These are the rules. Please confirm them. And with that, I wish you all good fortune."
The speaker cut off.
Kaito stayed leaning against the wall, motionless for a long time.
A single phrase echoed over and over in his mind.
Unconfirmed rings are not displayed on the terminal.
Unless you pick them up — if you keep them hidden — no one can see them.
Kaito looked at his own palm.
The burn scars on his fingertips floated white in the dim light.
With these hands, he would hide the rings.
Unknown to anyone, untaken by anyone, until the very last moment.
Kaito quietly closed his fist.
Dusk descended on the Sunadokei District.
The sky's color, filtered through the upper tier's lighting panels, was stained an artificial orange.
There was no real sky in the Cage.
The lighting panels stretched across the bottom of the upper residential tier manufactured day and night.
Kaito moved by choosing the shadows of abandoned pipes.
Once the sun went down, the participants' movements slowed across the district.
The darkness was convenient for hiding, but it also carried the danger of not knowing where an attack might come from.
Kaito walked with silent footsteps.
His soles crunched on fragments of concrete.
A faint sound.
He synchronized his breathing to blend even that into the ambient noise.
After walking for a while, Kaito stopped.
In the shadow of an abandoned pipe ahead, there was a figure.
Kaito crouched low.
The figure didn't move.
Sitting.
Kaito approached slowly.
When the distance had closed to about five paces, the figure looked up.
"Yo."
It was Ren.
Kaito stopped.
"We meet again."
Ren sat at the base of the abandoned pipe, hugging his knees.
That smile was back on his face.
"What are you doing here?"
"Resting. As you can see."
"Alone?"
"Alone. So are you."
Kaito didn't answer.
Ren shrugged lightly.
"Come on, sit down. Standing around makes you a target."
Kaito sat down a short distance from Ren.
About two paces between them.
Close enough for each to watch the other's hands and sense the surroundings.
"You heard that broadcast?"
Ren brought it up quietly.
"I heard it."
"The part about unconfirmed rings not showing on the terminal."
"Yeah."
Ren stared at his hands resting on his knees.
"Why would they bother telling us that? Normally, the operators wouldn't reveal something like that."
Kaito looked at Ren's profile.
Ren wasn't smiling.
"They said it was a rule re-confirmation. So it's part of the rules."
"Maybe."
Ren raised his head and looked at Kaito.
"But that's a loophole, isn't it?"
Kaito met Ren's gaze directly.
"If you don't pick them up — if you keep them hidden — the audience and the oddsmen can't see them. You can swim all the way to the end as a weak participant with zero possessions."
Ren's voice was low and quiet.
"You've been planning that since this morning, haven't you?"
Kaito exhaled.
"So have you."
Ren's mouth softened, just slightly.
But his eyes weren't smiling.
"Sure. I mean, not everyone here is someone you can beat head-on."
Ren pulled his knees in tighter.
"I saw
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