CHAPTER 93: THE FACE OF PURE EVIL

The body of the burly man trembled. He had always been broad, muscular, intimidating, a man others feared when he entered a room.

But now, covered in the hot, sticky remains of his companions, he felt smaller than he had ever felt in his life.

The blood clung to his skin, burning. Every drop that slid down his neck or smeared across his chest reminded him of what he had just seen: men screaming, bodies tearing open, steam hissing from within them as though they’d been cooked alive.

His companions, his so-called allies, gone. And he knew what that meant.

He was next.

’Gods...no. Please. I can’t...I can’t end up like that. Not like that.’

His thoughts raced chaotically, every word strangled by panic.

’It’s too much. Too hot. I can still feel it, their blood on me. It’s scalding...like it’s searing into my flesh. Every drop feels like a warning. My turn is coming...’

He clenched his teeth, trying to suppress the shivering that overtook his giant frame, but it was no use. His hands wouldn’t stop shaking. His knees felt weak.

’I’m going to have to play. I’m going to have to gamble...and I’ve never once won at gambling. Never. I always lost. Every. Damn. Time.’

His mind spiraled deeper into despair.

’Everyone used to laugh, say that if anyone bet against me, they’d win double for certain. I hated it. I hated gambling because it was cursed for me...and now...now this whole nightmare is nothing but a gamble.’

The hopelessness gnawed at him, bile rising in his throat.

And then—

"...I figured it out."

The voice snapped him out of his downward spiral.

He turned, wide-eyed, to see the woman lying next to him. Her expression...was not one of terror. It was calm.

Fierce. Determined. Her eyes locked on Mika with a newfound clarity, and even her trembling body seemed to have stilled.

"I figured it out." She sat up, breathing heavily but steadily. "I figured out this damn game of yours. You can’t do anything to me now!"

The man stared at her in disbelief. Had she gone mad? But no...her face showed no fear. She looked brave. Brave enough to believe her own words.

Mika tilted his head, curiosity flickering in his eyes.

"...Oh?" He leaned forward ever so slightly. "And what exactly have you figured out? Do tell, I’m quite interested."

Her lips curved into a bright, almost triumphant smile, her eyes glimmering.

"It’s obvious. So obvious. Those two idiots just couldn’t see it. They didn’t listen. They didn’t think. That’s why they died so horribly."

She chuckled under her breath, her confidence growing.

"But me? I see it now. I know exactly what this game is."

The large man swallowed hard, blinking at her. For a brief moment, against all reason, a flicker of hope stirred in him. Maybe...maybe she really had figured it out.

"So then." Mika asked. "What is the game we are playing?"

Her smile widened as she revealed, "It’s about temperature. Blood temperature. That’s what this whole thing is."

The big man’s brow furrowed. "...What?"

"Yes!" She pressed on eagerly, ignoring him. "37.5 and 250, they’re not random numbers. They’re temperatures!

"37.5, that’s the normal blood temperature in a human body. That’s why you kept repeating it. Because you were hinting at it, weren’t you?"

She pointed with her chin at Mika as though she’d cornered him with logic.

"And 250...that’s so high, no one could survive it. It all makes sense now!"

Her voice rose with pride as she continued,

"You were raising their blood temperatures to whatever numbers they called out. That’s why their skin turned red, why steam poured from their bodies, why the blood felt so hot on us when it sprayed. "

"...You made their blood boil instantly. That’s why they exploded!"

She laughed once, sharp and victorious.

The man beside her blinked again, his mouth dry. It...it did make sense. He remembered the searing hot blood burning into his clothes, onto his skin.

’Fuck...that’s what he was doing? That’s what kind of power he has?’ He shivered.

The thought chilled him more than the blood itself. To simply decide someone’s blood temperature, to cook them alive inside their own skin, what kind of blessing was that? What kind of nightmare?

But the woman went on, glowing with victorious rage.

"So the answer is simple. 37.5. That’s the number! That’s how you survive. That’s the trick behind all of this. If I say 37.5, then you’ll keep my blood at that exact temperature. And I’ll live. I’ve solved it. I’ve won!"

She turned to the big man, flashing him a grin that brimmed with confidence.

"See? That’s all it is. Those fools just picked too high...But not me. I’m smarter. I figured it out!"

And for a moment...he believed her. He even nodded, whispering hoarsely, "Yes...Yes, that makes sense. She’s right. That has to be it."

Relief washed through him like a cold tide. Perhaps...perhaps there was still a way out of this.

But Mika hadn’t said a word.

He was still staring at her.

Not cruelly... Just staring.

The silence stretched longer than either of them expected, and slowly...her confident smile began to falter.

Her breathing grew shallow. "...Why are you looking at me like that?"

Mika blinked. Then, he smiled. A soft, almost admiring smile.

"You really are sharp. You figured out exactly what I was doing. Yes...I was raising their blood temperatures to the numbers they chose. And yes...that’s why they died."

Her face lit again, relief and triumph flooding back.

"I knew it! I knew I was right! So—"

"But..."

The single word made the words stop in her throat.

Her voice broke. "...But?"

Mika chuckled then. Low, soft, amused. "You see, you solved the method. But not the game. You found the rule, but not the answer."

Her eyes widened, horror dawning.

He leaned in, his eyes gleaming with cruel playfulness. "In fact...you’ve just given me the worst answer possible."

"W-What? No...no, that doesn’t make any sense!" She stammered in disbelief and horror. "37.5 is the safe number, it has to be! That’s how it works, isn’t it?!"

Mika didn’t respond with words at first. He just smiled wider. And then—

Her body stiffened. Her breath caught.

"...Ah—"

Heat began to bloom in her veins. Slowly at first, subtle, almost deceptive. Her chest tightened, her throat ran dry, sweat beaded across her skin.

And then the warmth turned to fire.

Her eyes bulged, her face twisting in shock as she clutched at her chest. "N-No, wait, it’s, too hot—"

The big man stumbled backward, his eyes wide in horror as steam began rising from her skin.

Her screams tore through the room, ragged and raw.

"AAAAAHHHH, NO! PLEASE, STOP! IT’S BURNING ME ALIVE! MAKE IT STOP! MAKE IT STOOOOOP!"

Her skin reddened, blisters bubbling across her arms, her neck, her face. Her veins swelled grotesquely beneath her flesh, glowing faintly as though fire truly coursed through them.

Her hair clung to her sweat-soaked face as her body shook violently. Blood burst from her nose, her eyes, her ears.

"NOOOO, IT HURTS, HELP MEEEE—"

The man could do nothing but watch, trembling, his stomach lurching at the smell of boiling blood filling the air.

And the she convulsed once more, a final guttural scream ripping from her throat,

"AHHHHHHH!!!! AUGHHHH! NOOOOOOO—!"

BOOM!

And then her body blew apart, bursting into a gruesome shower of steaming gore.

Splatter!

Splash!

Her remains hit the floor with a sickening splatter, the steam rising in choking waves.

And witnessing all of this, the man fell to his knees, pale as a ghost, bile burning the back of his throat.

His whole body trembled as his eyes darted to the floor, to the steaming remains of the woman, then to the other two piles of steamed bone and meat that had once been his companions.

All three of them, reduced to nothing but gore and smoke, their blood still hissing where it clung to the stone.

His throat closed, and then, hoarsely, almost a whisper, words tore out of him.

"...Why?"

He croaked, then louder, almost screaming, his voice cracking under the weight of disbelief.

"WHY?! Why did you do that?! She, she figured you out! She gave you the right answer! She told you exactly what you were doing! WHY?! Why did you kill her?!"

His voice broke into a sob as his wide, wet eyes locked on Mika.

"This...this isn’t a game anymore, it’s just you cheating and doing whatever you want, you bastard!"

For the first time, Mika reacted, his expression shifting into exaggerated shock. He clutched his own chest with a offended look, gasping as if the man had just insulted his honor.

"Cheating?" Mika said slowly, tilting his head, his mouth curling into a smile that never reached his eyes. "Did you just accuse me...of cheating?"

The man’s mouth opened and closed uselessly, fear choking whatever words he wanted to say.

"How terribly rude of you." Mika continued, his voice dripping with hurt. "To fault me, the host of this game...To spit on my generosity after I’ve given you such a wonderful chance...How hurtful!"

He then quickly changed his expression and leaned forward, crouching, his face coming closer to the trembling man’s, eyes glinting with cruel amusement.

"And to inform you, I’ll just say that I wasn’t cheating at all. She was simply...wrong."

The man blinked, sweat dripping down his temple.

"Wrong? W-What do you mean wrong? She...She figured it all out—!"

Mika smiled wider, lowering his voice as if confiding a secret.

"Oh, she figured out part of it. Yes, I’ll give her credit for that. She was smart enough to realize that I was raising the temperature of the blood." He tapped his temple with one finger. "But she made one very...fatal mistake."

The man’s heart stuttered in his chest. "What mistake...?"

Mika straightened a little, smiling down at him like a teacher correcting a hopeless student.

"She assumed that the number chosen, the number you spoke aloud, was the final temperature her blood would be set to." He chuckled, wagging a finger. "But no, no, no...That’s where she misunderstood me completely."

The man’s lips trembled. "But...isn’t that what you were doing?"

Mika shook his head, slowly, his smile growing sharper.

"Not at all. You see..." He leaned closer, his voice dropping into a whisper. "The number chosen isn’t the destination. It’s the starting point."

The man’s eyes went wide in horror. "...Starting...?"

"That’s right." Mika said, his voice smooth, almost cheerful. "The number you choose is where your blood temperature begins. And then..." He spread his hands as if conducting an orchestra. "I raise it. Higher. Higher. Until it reaches the inevitable. 250 degrees, the peak. The end. The true destination of this game."

The man’s body turned cold, his eyes darting back to the steaming piles of flesh. His voice broke, strangled.

"S-So then...when she said 37.5—"

Mika grinned wide, cutting him off.

"Her blood started at a perfectly normal, safe human body temperature. And then...it began to climb. Slowly. One degree at a time. Higher, higher, higher...until it boiled her alive. Every second stretched into an eternity. Every vein screamed until it burst. Every nerve burned until it fried."

He gestured lazily at her remains.

"She thought she was clever. But she gave me the worst possible answer. Because instead of a mercifully quick end, she suffered the longest."

"...The slowest. The most agonizing death."

The man’s mouth moved, his voice a broken whisper.

"D-Doesn’t...doesn’t that mean...doesn’t that mean no matter what we choose, we...we all die anyway?"

His voice rose, trembling and shrill.

"There’s no winning! There’s no reward! This isn’t a game, it’s just death! That’s all there is at the end!"

But Mika only tilted his head, shaking it softly like a patient parent correcting a child.

"No." He said calmly. "You’re misunderstanding me again." His smile returned, bright and terrible. "Remember what I told you in the beginning? That your chances of reward were much higher than your chances of punishment?"

The man’s face twisted in confusion and despair.

"But...b-but that’s not true! They all died!"

"Ah, but look closer." Mika replied smoothly. "If you had chosen any number above...let’s say 50, 60, maybe 70? Your blood would have spiked to a level no human body could withstand."

"...You’d die instantly. Just like your friends did, one scream, one flash, and then boom. Over. Quick."

He leaned closer again, his smile gleaming like a knife.

"But she...She chose 37.5. And so I gave her the slow path. Her body climbing, degree by degree, suffering the torment of feeling every single rise until she reached the end. That was the real tragedy."

The man’s jaw quivered. His entire body shook as realization slammed into him like a hammer.

"So...so this...this game..." His voice cracked, horror twisting his features. "It’s not about living at all. It’s just...it’s just about how we die. Whether it’s instant...or slow."

Mika’s eyes glowed faintly as he leaned in, grinning like a devil whispering from the pit of the abyss.

"Now you understand."

The man’s breath hitched, his skin clammy, his heart hammering so loud he could hear it in his ears. He stared at Mika, trembling, his voice a broken whisper.

"You’re not human..." He said. "You’re the devil...straight from hell."

Mika simply smiled in response, while the petrified man slowly came to know what the face of true evil looked like...