Upon stepping into the arcade, I discovered its interior bore no resemblance to the flashy exterior. ‘Hmph,’ I thought, ‘just as expected, all bark and no bite.’
A young woman, clad in a crisp white uniform, approached us. With a professional smile and a graceful bow, she greeted, “Sir, Miss, welcome to the World of Sword and Blade. Is this your first visit?”
I offered a nod in response.
“Then, is there anything I can assist you with?” she inquired, her voice brimming with genuine enthusiasm, utterly devoid of any forced pleasantry. It was truly impossible to find her displeasing.
“Could you tell me,” I asked, “if there are any particularly thrilling puzzle games available?”
She paused, a flicker of surprise crossing her features, before her professional smile returned. Perhaps she hadn’t expected a young girl like me to express interest in such a genre.
Nevertheless, she continued, “Are you seeking something more grounded in realism, or do you prefer a game with a greater imaginative flair?”
I considered her words for a moment. “Realistic,” I stated firmly.
To my mind, the true brilliance of a puzzle game lay in its realism; the more immersive, the better. Any notion of ‘fantasy’ seemed merely an excuse for a lack of stringent design.
What, after all, was the appeal of a puzzle game if it lacked a genuine sense of reality?
The girl acknowledged my choice with a nod. Turning to Lavishly Karafar and the others, she inquired, “And for the rest of you, is there anything specific you wish to play?”
Lavishly Karafar pondered for a moment. “We’ll simply accompany Little Mengmeng,” she decided.
The others readily affirmed her choice with nods.
Yin and the Agent, however, demurred with a wave of their hands. The Agent merely cast a fleeting glance our way before turning her head.
“You all go play,” the Agent stated, “I won’t be joining. It’s too childish.”
Yet, for reasons I couldn’t quite pinpoint, the Agent sounded rather endearing as she said it.
Yin added, “This is truly an activity for you youngsters. An old soul like myself will graciously opt out. Go on, have your fun; such opportunities won’t always present themselves.”
I nodded, making no further attempts to convince them. My anticipation for this game was now soaring.
The girl guided us to a formidable gate. After a quick glance at her watch, she addressed us.
“This is a positioning portal,” she explained. “You will be transported into a miniature world, where further detailed instructions will be provided. This is a rather extensive game, so adherence to the rules is paramount.”
I nodded once more.
The girl continued, “Numerous participants will be arriving in this small world via various other portals. The next round is scheduled to commence in precisely half an hour. Furthermore, those who achieve the highest rankings will be rewarded with special gifts. We wish you the best of luck!”
We exchanged nods, then stepped through the archway.
The world immediately began to spin violently around me. While the Divine Realm’s portals might have been dazzlingly bright, their transitions were far more gentle than this jarring experience.
This sudden onslaught of vertigo was utterly nauseating.
The disorienting spin lasted for what felt like an eternity, roughly a minute, before the surroundings finally coalesced into clarity. I instinctively collapsed onto a nearby bed.
It took a considerable effort to regain my composure and senses.
Gradually, I began to scrutinize my environment: a simple, unassuming room furnished with nothing more than a bed, a solitary chair, and a writing desk.
My gaze then fell upon a diary resting on the desk. I rose, approached it, and carefully opened its pages.
‘July 13th, Sunny’
‘Today, I was forcibly brought to this villa, yet I understand nothing!’
‘They speak in riddles, and it feels as though two factions are subtly vying for power. What am I to do? I cannot, will not die.’
‘Should I feign allegiance to one side, or declare my utter ignorance? Or perhaps…’
‘But what if the other side discovers my deception? Will I perish? What, then, is the correct course of action?!’
The diary entry ended abruptly. A small smile touched my lips after I finished reading.
This game was remarkably well-designed. From the outset, the diary served as both an introductory guide for novices and a concise synopsis of the unfolding narrative.
While it initially appeared to yield little concrete information, a more thorough examination unveiled its true implications.
Firstly, it was clear that I was, quite literally, an unwitting bystander caught in the crossfire. My primary objective was simple: survival.
Secondly, the diarist’s observation of “two forces at play” implied that the game would conclude once one faction was completely annihilated. Logically, this meant that no one would initially know each other’s true affiliations.
The diary then presented two potential strategies: either to feign being a teammate of one faction, or to outright declare my innocence, effectively begging the warring ‘gods’ to leave me out of their conflict.
A wall clock in the room displayed “14 minutes.” This undoubtedly signified the imminent commencement of the game.
The question now was, what move should I make?
The answer, upon reflection, became strikingly clear. While declaring innocence might seem a rational first step, everyone would surely adopt the guise of a bystander initially.
If one observed another player who showed no inclination to align with their perceived faction, they would undoubtedly be eliminated for safety. This would, at the very least, prevent friendly fire, and ideally, eliminate an opponent.
Therefore, only one viable strategy remained: meticulously deduce the identities of both sides, and then flawlessly execute a disguise.
A thrill of excitement surged through me at this realization. Maximum difficulty! This was precisely the kind of challenge I had yearned for.
Meanwhile, in another part of this miniature world, a blond-haired man also made his entrance. He cast a disdainful glance at the diary on a nearby desk, then let out a scoff.