The moment Bran heard Emil's words, his mind became chaotic.
'He said… he's played this game with me…?'
It was obvious.
This was the first time he had played this game with Emil.
Though he had played this game many times until now.
It was definitely the first time Emil was his opponent.
After all, the first time he had met Emil was at the academy.
In other words, Emil lied.
'Why on earth…?'
Without needing to determine if it was true or false, he had spoken a clear lie.
"How about it? What's your answer?"
However, Emil smiled leisurely and urged him for an answer.
"Of course, it's a li—."
The moment Bran was about to answer Emil's question with 'lie.'
"…"
Bran shut his mouth.
"Why? Aren't you going to answer?"
"…"
A relaxed smile.
His finger was clearly about to be cut off for such an obvious lie.
Yet Emil was too relaxed.
As if he was certain Bran would be wrong.
'Now that I think about it… he immediately knew it was a lie during my turn too…'
Bran's story about killing his mother.
An ordinary person should have shown some hesitation at those words.
But Emil had no hesitation.
'You never killed your mother.'
"…"
Bran stopped his answer and fell into thought.
'How could he do that…?'
If his answer had been wrong then, Emil's finger would have been cut off.
Among all the opponents he had played this game with, risking life or limb.
He had never seen anyone so nonchalant while giving an answer based on luck.
Because it wouldn't be possible unless they were crazy.
Then.
Was Emil crazy?
Or if not that.
'No way… did he really play this game with me…?'
Bran quickly racked his brain, recalling the faces of the people he had faced so far.
Elders, gentlemen, prostitutes, knights, and so on.
Various faces flashed through Bran's mind.
But there was no man of the same age.
He had no memory of such a person.
But.
What if they really had played the game?
What if he just didn't remember?
'It's not an impossible thing…'
If they played the game and memory erasure was used as a price, it was entirely possible.
A grin.
Bran smiled confidently.
"Emil…"
"Finally decided to answer?"
Bran laughed derisively and looked at Emil's smile.
He probably thought Bran would give the wrong answer.
That's why he was so calm.
But he was wrong.
He wasn't a fool.
He wouldn't fall into the trap.
"Emil, your secret is that you're squin—!"
"…"
But at that moment.
Bran witnessed it.
Just before he answered.
Emil's lips curling up into a subtle, unpleasant smirk.
'...What is this?'
For a moment, his vision stopped.
In extreme tension, his thoughts accelerated as if time had stopped.
Emil was smiling.
With a face that seemed to say he'd been caught.
'…Ah, ahh, …so that's it!!'
Only then did Bran realize.
This was Emil's trap.
Deliberately spouting an extreme lie, and then making him mistake it for the truth.
It was a trap.
"Emil—!!"
"…"
His thoughts returned to normal, and Bran answered boldly, his face more excited than usual.
It was the smile of a victor who had narrowly avoided a mistake.
"What you said is a lie—!! You've never played this game with me—!!"
"…"
"Hahahaha! Disappointed? Because I didn't fall for your obvious trick? Too bad, Emil! I'm not that foolish—!!"
Bran yelled mockingly.
To Emil, who no longer wore that unpleasant smirk.
To emotionless Emil.
And then.
*Whirrrr—.*
The correct answer was revealed.
"Erm… the color…"
The first to react was Lia, who was watching from behind.
And at her voice.
Bran's gaze turned to the parchment.
"What…?"
Bran couldn't believe his eyes.
The parchment was.
Glowing with the red light of an incorrect answer.
"Th-this can't be… surely… I never with you…"
"Well, that's how it is, Bran. So now you have to pay the stakes, right?"
"I… played a game with you? Does that mean I lost and had my memory erased?"
"Well, what do you think? I'll leave the details to your imagination, Bran. More importantly…"
Emil faced the bewildered Bran.
*Thud.*
*Clatter.*
He pulled out the knife stuck in the table and tossed it to him.
"Now cut. Your finger."
"…"
It was the moment the loser's penalty would begin.
"Chris."
"U-uh huh!"
"Take Lia out into the hallway."
"Understood…!"
"Huh? W-wait…! Emil! I…!"
"It's not a pleasant sight, so wait outside."
*Trembling.*
While Chris took Lia out into the hallway at Emil's command.
"Th-this…! Damn it all…!!"
Bran's hand moved on its own due to the red rope binding it.
His hand trembled violently as if resisting, and picked up the knife placed before him.
"Emiiiiil…!! Emiiiiiil…!!"
"Hahahaha! Bran, I wonder where you'll cut it?"
"I'll definitely kill you…!! I will certainlyyyy—!!"
The situation was the exact opposite of what happened in the third round.
Emil recalled that time and smiled contentedly.
And then.
"Cr-cr-cr-uuugh…!!"
*Slice…*
*Slice slice…*
*Slice slice slice slice slice—.*
"Aaaargh—!!"
For the first time in his life, Bran lost this game and, for the first time, cut off his own finger.
***
"How about it? Want to continue the next round? I can stop if you want."
"Haa, haa…"
Bran had already lost five fingers.
Conversely, all ten of my fingers were perfectly fine.
An overwhelming win rate.
The reason was simple.
Because Bran's composure had shattered ever since his first finger was cut off.
Emil knew that anxiety well, having experienced it thoroughly in the third round.
Because of that, Bran couldn't hide the correct answer during his turn.
And he couldn't guess the correct answer during Emil's turn.
"Ugh, ugh…!"
"There's a lot of blood now; it must be dangerous."
"Shut uuuup…!"
Bran glared at Emil, his fingerless hand trembling.
He could feel Bran's stubbornness, wanting to see Emil bleed no matter what.
"Haa… fine. Let's continue then. Since it's what you want."
"I'll definitely… definitely wipe that damn smirk off your face… Emil…"
*Pshhh!*
Whether his blood pressure rose, or he strained his severed hand.
A spurt of blood shot out once from the stump of his hand.
At the sight, Emil smiled faintly and opened his mouth.
"Alright, you don't want to end the game without cutting at least one of my fingers, do you?"
"…"
"Then let's do this. I'll give you a good opportunity."
*Slide.*
Emil picked up the knife, heavily stained with Bran's blood.
And pointed the tip of the knife at himself.
"I am a woman."
"…What?"
At Emil's words, Bran's pale face stiffened.
It was an expression of disbelief.
"Haha, what else would it be? It's my turn this time. So I just told you my secret."
"…"
"It's a simple question, right? I'm a woman. Go on, guess."
"You, you bastard…"
Bran's pale face flushed crimson, and he tightly clenched his intact hand.
It was amusing to see him, who was always aloof and expressionless, display such passionate emotions.
He seemed incredibly angry.
"You're mocking me…?! Are you playing games now?!"
"Playing games? No, that's not it. I'm giving you an opportunity now."
*Thud.*
Emil gently stuck the tip of the knife into the table.
"I'll let you cut one of my fingers and end the game. I'm satisfied with this much too."
"…"
"How about it?"
Bran looked at Emil with trembling eyes.
Was he agonizing?
'Of course, he would agonize.'
He was probably conflicted between reason and emotion.
He wanted to end the game due to the pain and fear of losing his fingers.
But ending the game without landing a single hit on Emil would wound his pride.
Then, Emil gave him a problem so easy it seemed foolish.
It was like spoon-feeding him victory.
He could easily land a hit.
Bran's pride was probably on the line right now.
—Would he end his revenge with a single hit spoon-fed by Emil?
—Or would he uphold his pride and give the wrong answer, cutting off another finger?
"…"
*Trembling…*
Bran lowered his head and trembled.
Emil didn't know if it was fear or rage.
And then.
"…You."
"What?"
As if he had made his decision, Bran raised his head and looked at Emil.
*Drip, drip.*
"You're a man…"
Bran was shedding tears.
Feeling misery and rage, he clenched his molars.
Yet, he swallowed the bait Emil offered.
Bran's face was deeply contorted as he cried.
He answered thus.
"You are a man…"
"Ha, haha…"
It was a sight Emil would want to capture with a camera if he had one.
At such a sight, Emil couldn't help but laugh.
"Hahahahaha—!!"
"…"
At Emil's laughter, Bran's hand trembled even more, and his expression became even more distorted.
And then.
*Whirrrr—.*
The parchment glowed with the golden color of the correct answer.
Bran had guessed correctly, and Emil had lost.
However, Bran's expression did not look refreshed at all.
"Cut… cut it now…!! Quickly—!!"
Perhaps because he had abandoned his pride and eaten the bait Emil offered, Bran urged him to perform the penalty.
He couldn't stand it and desperately wanted to see Emil suffer.
"Kuh, kuh kuh kuhk…!"
At that, Emil clutched his stomach and laughed.
"Stop laughing and cut it now—!!"
The more Emil laughed, the more Bran seemed provoked, screaming even louder.
*Slide.*
Emil's hand was forced to move by the red rope, grabbing the knife.
"Cut it, cut it—! Now—!!"
"Hahahahahaha!"
Bran's figure, crying and unfairly shouting.
At that sight, Emil lifted the knife and laughed even more gleefully.
*Scrape…*
*Footstep, footstep.*
"…What?"
"Hahahahahaha—!"
*Clang…*
*Slash—!!*
*Crash!*
Chris entered the classroom and cut the rope, along with the table, with her sword.
"…Bullshit."
The table split in two and Emil's freed hand.
And Bran's five fingers rolling on the floor.
Bran stared at the sight, muttering with a blank face, then.
"Don't give me that bullshiiiit—!!!"
He shouted with a distorted face.
*Dash!*
And he lunged, picking up the knife that had fallen to the floor.
Then he charged at Emil.
*Thud!*
He pressed Emil's neck down to the floor with his severed hand.
And then raised the knife.
"Diiiiie—!!"
And plunged the knife down.
*Thwack—!!*
"Gahk!"
Of course, that action was nullified by Chris's kick.
*Crash!*
Bran tumbled on the floor and hit the wall by the window.
"Emil…! Emiiiiil…!!"
Even as he staggered to his feet, he called Emil's name.
Filled with hatred and rage.
To him, Emil spoke with a mocking smile and a refreshed mind.
"This repays everything, Bran."
"Emiiiiil—!!!"
"Chris, take him to the temple and reattach his fingers."
"Understood."
Having left the aftermath to Chris, Emil turned his back and left the classroom.
"Emiiiiiil—!! I'll kill you!! I'll definitely!! I'll you—!!"
From behind, Bran's screaming voice continued to be heard.
*Scrape.*
*Thud!*
"Ga-gasp…!"
The moment Emil opened the classroom door and stepped out, Bran's whimpers and shouts stopped.
"E-Emil…"
In the hallway, Lia was waiting with a terrified expression.
Emil looked at her gently and smiled faintly.
"Let's go back."
The enjoyable revenge, and Lia's unexpected strategy event, had come to an end.