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 Apprentice's Face — Complicity Underground
Morning in the Tower of Veruna announced itself in the color of its light—nothing like the dawn in Sunadokei Ward.
Kaito stood at the window of the room he'd been given, gazing out over the upper levels of the Cage spread below. White walls, polished metal, orderly rows of greenery. The air was clean, the temperature held constant, and the people moving in the distance looked like figures in an elaborate model.
(There's nothing here.)
That was what Kaito thought.
The ruins of Sunadokei Ward had wind. They had the smell of iron and blood and dust. Every piece of rubble underfoot carried the trace of someone who had lived. But this tower had none of that.
The words Duke Veruna had spoken with a smile at that lavish dinner still lingered deep in his ears.
—You belong to me.
So human rights meant the right to be owned. Since last night, Kaito had been turning that sentence over and over, chewing on its meaning.
In the corner of the room, a gray servant's uniform lay folded. The clothes that marked the "role" he and Ren had been given in this mansion. Not a privilege granted to victors—a uniform for those who were managed.
Kaito picked up the garment.
The fabric was far finer than the work clothes he'd worn in Sunadokei Ward. The stitching was careful, without a single loose thread. But at the collar, a small stamp marking them as resources had been sewn firmly into place.
(In the end, it's the same.)
Kaito changed, and left the room.
The corridor was silent.
The thick carpet swallowed his footsteps, and the air did not stir. Along the walls, portraits of past victors hung at even intervals. Every face wore a similar smile, and every pair of eyes gazed 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 with his chest thrust out, the hourglass monument of Sunadokei Ward 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 caught sight of a row of apprentice servants lined up.
Young men and women in gray uniforms.
All of them stood along the wall with their heads slightly bowed. A middle-aged man who appeared to be the head servant was flatly 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 the corner of his vision.
(...That guy.)
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 Kaito was certain had been "eliminated" in Sunadokei Ward.
One of the group that had fallen into the trap in the northern sector, if he remembered right. Lured out by the false ring signals the oddsman 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 the underground sector."
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, emptied of feeling.
Even when his own name was called, his response lagged. As though 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 Ward had not been killed. Part of their memories had been wiped, and they were being reassigned as servants of this mansion, scattered to other sectors.
(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 reared up in his mind.
(Because I survived, this guy is here?)
Kaito couldn't take his eyes off the man.
At the head servant's direction, the man left the line and began walking toward the far end of the corridor. Toward the dim staircase leading down to the underground sector.
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'll keep it to myself.)
If he told him, there was no telling how Ren would move. It might interfere with the mission. Now was not yet the time to act.
Kaito clenched his fist and left the spot.
Guilt clung bitterly to 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 lay on the bed in his room.
He couldn't sleep.
When he closed his eyes, the hollow eyes of that man from the daytime surfaced behind his lids.
(Eliminated participants aren't killed.)
(Their memories are wiped, and they're used.)
(We're in this mansion knowing that.)
Kaito turned over.
That was when it happened.
From down the corridor came a faint noise.
A small sound, like metal scraping.
Kaito opened his eyes.
(...What's that?)
He strained his ears.
The sound came again.
Clearer this time. An intermittent sound, as though someone were trying to pry something open.
Kaito slipped noiselessly out of bed.
He opened the door and stepped into the corridor.
Cold air touched his bare feet.
He walked carefully toward the sound.
The green light of the emergency lamps cast a dim glow over the corridor.
Presently, in front of the staircase leading underground, he saw a figure.
(Ren.)
Kaito stopped.
It was Ren.
His curly brown hair swayed faintly even in the dark. Ren was crouched before the metal door sealing off the stairs to the underground.
In his hand, a thin strip of metal.
He was working it into the door's keyhole, trying to force it open.
(What the hell is he doing?)
Kaito held his breath.
Ren's hands moved with practiced ease. The touch that children raised in institutions learned so they could steal food from locked storehouses. Kaito knew it well himself.
But the sealed doors of this mansion were built differently from an institution's storehouse.
Ren clicked his tongue softly.
"...Stubborn."
His voice was low and serious.
Not a trace of his usual banter.
That was when it happened.
From a corner of the ceiling, a red light moved slowly toward them.
A surveillance drone—a "fly."
A small drone, fifteen centimeters long. Built for silence; they hadn't noticed it until it was nearly upon them.
The red scanning beam crawled slowly left and right along the corridor, licking its way forward.
Ren's body went rigid.
"...Busted."
Ren muttered low.
In that instant, Kaito's body was already moving.
Before thought, his feet stepped forward.
"Don't move."
Kaito grabbed Ren's arm and pulled him with all his strength toward a corner of the corridor.
There, a servant's cleaning cart sat against the wall.
Kaito shoved Ren behind the cart and hid himself beside him.
The fly's red scanning beam passed slowly over the place where the two of them had been.
Kaito held his breath.
His heart pounded violently against the inside of his chest.
(Did it see us?)
The red light grazed the edge of the cart.
And then it stopped.
"...Beginning voice recognition. State your affiliation and current duties."
The mechanical voice echoed through the quiet corridor.
Recording mode.
In an instant, Kaito switched gears in his head.
(An apprentice on cleaning duty.)
(On night patrol.)
(Instructing a new hire.)
He assembled the lie swiftly in his mind.
Slowly, Kaito showed his face from behind the cart.
Expressionless, he looked up at the fly's red lens.
"...Apprentice. Night patrol."
His voice was calm.
The skill of not letting fear show on his face—he had learned that in the institution until he was sick of it.
"Confirming patrol. Report your assigned area and the current time."
The fly lowered its altitude slightly.
The red lens stared fixedly at Kaito's face.
"Assigned to the cleaning sector of the west corridor. The time is just past one in the morning."
Kaito answered without a stumble.
Only when lying did he grow a little talkative.
"...Who is the one behind you?"
The fly's lens turned toward the shadow of the cart.
"A new hire. I'm teaching him the cleaning procedure right now."
Kaito turned and looked at Ren.
"...Hey. Come out. Greet it properly."
He spoke to Ren in the offhand tone a head servant would use with a new hire.
Ren met Kaito's eyes for an instant.
And then he understood the situation at once.
"...S-sorry. I'm the new hire."
Ren timidly showed his face from behind the cart.
His voice was deliberately made to tremble.
(Good.)
Kaito clicked his tongue in admiration inwardly.
This guy was a genuinely gifted actor.
"The new hire isn't used to night patrols yet. I'm accompanying him and instructing him."
Kaito continued flatly to the fly.
"...Confirmed. Ending recording."
The fly's red lens flickered once.
And then it quietly returned toward the ceiling.
No whir of wings could be heard.
Silence wrapped the corridor once more.
Kaito let out his breath slowly.
"...That was close."
Ren said quietly.
"I'm not thanking you."
Ren said it without meeting Kaito's eyes.
"...Like I care."
Kaito answered shortly.
Ren started walking toward the sealed door again.
"...You're still going through with it?"
Kaito spoke to Ren's back in a low voice.
"Yeah. It might be impossible tonight, but I at least want to check it out."
Ren didn't turn around.
"Why'd you cover for me back there?"
Ren's voice was quiet.
"...No reason. If you got caught, it'd be a hassle for me too."
Kaito answered immediately.
"Huh. I'll just tell myself that's what it was."
Ren said it lightly.
"Eh, whatever. Guess that happens sometimes."
One of Ren's stock phrases.
But there was none of its usual lightness in his voice.
The two of them stood in silence before the sealed door for a while.
The green light of the emergency lamps stretched their shadows long across the wall.
"...Hey, Kaito."
Ren spoke.
"...What."
"There's another mechanism behind the main tournament."
Ren's voice dropped.
"Apparently the original rulebook for the game is stored beneath this mansion."
Kaito looked at Ren's profile.
In the emergency light, Ren's amber eyes glowed quietly.
"...Where did you hear that?"
Kaito started to ask, then stopped.
(Don't ask.)
(I mustn't ask.)
That was what Kaito thought.
He had already half-confirmed that Ren was a member of Kusubi.
The wedge-shaped mark carved into his left wrist.
The mark they had shown each other in Sunadokei Ward.
Ren must know Kaito's true identity as well.
But neither of them put it into words.
(Not asking—that's the only safety in this mansion.)
Kaito understood that.
"...I need a floor plan of the underground sector."
Ren said quietly.
"I'll pinpoint where the original rulebook is kept. For that, I need to know the structure of this mansion precisely."
"...I see."
That was all Kaito said.
"I won't ask you to help. But I want you to know. I'm going to be slipping underground again and again from now on."
Ren turned to face Kaito.
"If you want to stop me, say it now, while you still can."
Ren's eyes were direct.
Kaito looked straight back into them.
"...I won't stop you."
Kaito said quietly.
"Whatever you do, it's none of my concern."
"...I see. Thanks."
Ren's mouth softened, just barely.
"I told you I'm not thanking you."
"This isn't thanks. Just a confirmation."
Neither of them said anything more.
Silence filled the corridor.
—
The next morning, the two of them were summoned to Duke Veruna's office.
The office was on the top floor of the Tower
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