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 - Episode 6: The City of Hourglasses — The Duke's Whim, the Accomplice's Ring
Morning light began to wash the ruins of the Sunadokei District in a pale, bluish white.
Kaito simply watched the thin beam that slipped through the gap in the barricade wall. The wound on his thigh had stopped bleeding, thanks to the strip of cloth Ren had torn and wound tight around it. But every time he moved, a dull ache shot through him.
Beside him, Ren had just woken from a shallow sleep. His brown, unruly hair stirred in the cold air, and his freckled cheeks caught the pale light. His amber eyes opened slowly.
"...Morning, huh."
His voice was hoarse. Yesterday's exhaustion bled straight through it.
"Yeah."
Kaito answered briefly.
Ren sat up and rubbed his arm where he'd rolled up his sleeve. The small piercing hole in his left ear was faintly visible, depending on the angle of the light. Last night's question—*if only one of us could survive*—still hung in the air between them.
Ren started to speak, and that was when it happened.
The bracelet-type resource terminals on both their wrists vibrated simultaneously.
Kaito looked down at his terminal. Text floated on the screen.
"Survival Line Fluctuation Announcement"
The words vanished almost immediately.
"...What the hell was that?"
Ren peered at his terminal.
"It means the survival line is going to change."
Kaito said it quietly.
"Change? It's been three points this whole time!"
A faint tension crept into Ren's voice.
"How should I know. Depends on the organizers' mood."
Kaito pushed off from the wall.
That was when he heard a voice in the distance.
A businesslike female voice, filtered through a loudspeaker.
"—Attention, all participants. This is a rules confirmation."
The two of them looked up at the same time.
The voice came from speakers installed throughout the sector. It was Sara Nokkusu's voice. A resource management bureau operations assistant. A staff member of resource origin who handled the game's practical affairs—explaining rules, dealing with terminal malfunctions.
"Effective today, the survival line may fluctuate twice daily, morning and evening, at the organizers' discretion. This is a rule, so please confirm it."
Kaito held his breath.
"Additionally, each time an elimination occurs, the spectator stands hold betting pools predicting the next elimination. Please be aware of this."
Her voice was flat.
"That is all. Survive."
The faint click of the speaker switching off echoed.
Silence.
"...The survival line is going to fluctuate."
Ren murmured.
"Yeah."
"So even if we've got three points, if the organizers say 'it's five today,' three points becomes meaningless."
"That's how it works."
"And every time someone's eliminated, the spectators are betting."
Ren's voice dropped.
"Every time we die, those bastards are betting money and enjoying it."
Kaito didn't answer.
Instead, a memory of Sodateya No. 7 surfaced from deep in his mind.
Winter, when he was twelve. A boy from his dormitory had failed to escape and was dragged back. The staff in gray uniforms lined them up against the wall. And in front of the other children, one by one, they were stepped on—heads crushed underfoot.
Back then, Kaito had watched through a crack in the door.
Unable to make a sound, unable to move a single finger.
(*That wasn't entertainment.*)
(*That was a warning.*)
But Tokēbako was different.
(*This is entertainment.*)
(*Every time someone's eliminated, the spectators bet.*)
(*What happened to that boy—it's happening here, now.*)
Kaito traced the old scar above his left eyebrow with his finger.
(*That night, I slammed my fist into the wall.*)
(*To overwrite my helplessness with pain.*)
(*It's the same now.*)
"...Kaito."
Ren's voice pulled him back to reality.
"Are you okay?"
"I'm fine."
"Liar. Your face is white as a sheet."
Ren said it lightly. But his eyes weren't smiling.
"...It's nothing."
Kaito moved away from the wall.
"The eastern blockade has been lifted. We're moving."
"Got it."
The two of them headed from the shadow of the collapsed piping toward the eastern passage.
——
Meanwhile, on the aerial viewing terrace installed at the top of the Sunadokei District's 95th level, a man was looking down at the sector through glass.
Long silver hair swept back. Cold, pale blue eyes. Lips curved in what seemed like a permanent smile. On his left hand, a ring set with a large gem.
Duke Veruna fon Arusutoremu.
Head of the Veruna ducal house—one of the five great noble families at the apex of the Cage's ruling class—and chairman of the Holder Council. And the organizer of Tokēbako.
He was forty years old. But his bearing carried an intimidation that belied his age.
He swirled the glass in his hand, gazing at the ruins below.
"—How dull."
The duke murmured in a gentle tone.
"Yesterday's culling was far too predictable. The weak kill the weak, the strong survive. There's no amusement in it at all."
Behind the duke, an oddsman stood at attention. A specialist position only those of Holder origin could fill—setting and managing the betting odds.
"The survival line fluctuation and the scattering of false signals have already been carried out as instructed."
The oddsman replied in an emotionless voice.
"Yes, I was watching. That panic in the northern sector. Foolish children, lured by false signals, killing each other. That was mildly amusing."
The duke brought the glass to his lips.
"But it's still not enough."
"Might I ask what you mean?"
"No one has died in an unexpected way yet."
The duke's smile deepened.
"Having your head crushed. Being stabbed. Beaten to death. Those are just deaths. What I want to see is—how shall I put it—the moment a heart breaks. Betrayed by someone they trusted, dying in despair. That kind of death."
The duke touched the glass.
"Change the survival line according to my mood today—morning and evening. Morning is three points. Evening, let's see... five points. The faces of those who felt safe with three points—how will they change by evening? Isn't that something to look forward to?"
"Understood."
"Also, scatter false signals into the sectors that are too quiet. But this time, more subtly. Not just ring signals—mix in water source information as well. Those dying of thirst will gather at false water sources and kill each other over false rings. Truly exquisite."
"Certainly."
The duke spoke without turning.
"You may go. I'll watch from here a while longer."
The oddsman bowed and left.
The duke turned his eyes back to the ruins below.
"Now then—what kind of death will you show me today?"
His voice echoed quietly, to no one in particular.
——
The eastern passage was eerily silent, as if yesterday's blockade had never happened.
Kaito and Ren moved low along the wall. The wound on Kaito's thigh throbbed with every step. But he didn't let it show on his face.
"You don't have to push yourself, you know."
Ren said it without turning around.
"I'm not."
"You are. You're dragging your leg."
Kaito didn't answer.
That was when footsteps sounded from ahead.
The two of them ducked into cover simultaneously.
The footsteps approached—steady, slow, regular.
Then a girl in a gray uniform appeared from around the corner of the passage.
Her long black hair was tied back in a single tail, and her narrow black eyes scanned the surroundings. A small mole behind her right ear. At her waist, a terminal of the same type as the participants'.
Sara Nokkusu.
The operations assistant girl stopped in front of the spot where the two were hiding.
"—I know you're there."
Her voice was businesslike.
Kaito and Ren exchanged glances.
"Please come out. Terminal inspection."
Kaito slowly stepped out from cover. Ren followed.
Sara looked at both their faces in turn.
"...You two were in the eastern sealed zone yesterday."
"Yeah."
"That's right. You remembered us, miss?"
Ren said it with a friendly smile.
Sara stared at Ren's smile for a moment, then dropped her eyes to the terminal.
"Please show me your left wrists."
The two of them held out their bracelet-type terminals.
Sara checked them efficiently. Her movements were precise, like a machine.
"—Rules confirmation."
Sara spoke flatly while operating the terminal.
"The survival line may change between morning and evening starting today. As of this morning, it is three points. What it will be by evening is currently undetermined. This is a rule, so please confirm it."
"We heard it on the broadcast earlier."
"Yes. But it is a rule that I inform you directly."
Sara continued while checking Kaito's terminal.
"Also, this is not part of the rules, but—"
Sara's voice dropped, just slightly.
"Each time an elimination occurs, the spectator stands hold betting pools predicting the next elimination. Your lives and deaths are objects of entertainment to the audience."
Kaito looked into Sara's eyes.
Sara's black eyes were as expressionless as ever. But deep within them, something seemed to waver.
(*She just told us information that isn't in the rules.*)
(*Why?*)
"...Why tell us that?"
Kaito asked quietly.
Sara met his gaze for just a moment.
"I simply thought you should know."
"Can an operations assistant say something like that to participants?"
"No. It's a rules violation."
Sara said it flatly.
"But I wanted to tell you two, at least."
Something about those words struck Kaito as odd.
(*Us two, at least?*)
(*Why us?*)
Ren, still smiling, let his gaze flick briefly to Sara's left wrist.
Sara's left wrist had only the bracelet-type terminal—nothing else.
(*No hidden mark.*)
Ren searched for the wedge-shaped brand that Kusa members received after passing the preliminaries—the same mark he himself bore. But there was no such mark on Sara's wrist.
"That concludes the inspection."
Sara returned the terminals to them.
"...Be careful."
With just that, Sara turned her back and walked away.
Kaito watched until her figure disappeared down the passage.
"...That person knows something."
Ren said quietly.
"Yeah."
"She noticed that our terminals have more undetermined reaction zones than the other participants."
Ren's voice lowered.
"She probably knows we're hiding rings. And yet she didn't call us out on it."
"...Yeah."
"Is she an enemy, or an ally?"
"I don't know."
Kaito stared down the passage.
(*That woman isn't just an operations assistant.*)
(*But I can't be sure she's a Kusa collaborator either.*)
(*Why would she leak information to us and only us?*)
No answer came.
——
Afternoon.
The two of them rested deep in the collapsed piping sector.
Kaito unwound the cloth to check his thigh wound. The wound was red and swollen. Not festering. But it seeped blood when he moved.
"Let me see."
Ren crouched at Kaito's feet.
"I'm fine."
"You're not fine. The wound's open."
Ren tore another strip from the hem of his own clothes.
"Let's change this. The old cloth is stiff with blood."
Ren deftly removed the old cloth and rewrapped it with fresh.
"...You're good at this."
"Learned it at the facility. If you can't treat wounds, you die."
Ren said it lightly.
"You too, right? If you're from Sodateya."
Kaito didn't answer.
After finishing the wrapping, Ren traced his left wrist with his thumb.
An unconscious gesture, as if confirming something.
Kaito watched it.
(*That's where the hidden mark is.*)
(*The wedge-shaped brand Kusa members receive after passing the preliminaries.*)
(*I have the same brand, in the same place.*)
Kaito looked at his own left wrist.
Beneath the bracelet-type terminal, a faintly visible wedge-shaped brand.
"...Ren."
Kaito called quietly.
"Hm?"
Ren looked up.
"You just traced your left wrist."
Ren's movement stopped.
"What about it?"
"Are you with Kusa?"
Kaito asked point-blank.
Ren's smile vanished.
His amber eyes fixed on Kaito.
"...What are you going to do with that answer?"
"Answer me."
"I won't."
Ren said quietly.
"What about you, then? You've got the same thing on your left wrist, don't you?"
The two sta
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