Chapter 4: Logic's Trap
The library loomed like a silent tomb, its air heavy with the musty scent of forgotten books and the sharp tang of meteor dust that clung to every breath.
Kirito's boots scuffed against the worn parquet floor, each step kicking up faint clouds that swirled in the dim light of the neon 4♦ sign pulsing above the entrance.
Its geometric glow cast long, jagged shadows across abandoned reading tables, their surfaces scarred with graffiti from players long gone.
His heart hammered, a frantic rhythm outpacing the slow, ominous tick of the Visa Clock on his wrist, its red glow flickering like a warning against his skin.
His fingers, dusted with ash, nervously traced the outline of the knife tucked into his belt, its cold weight a grim reminder of the blood he'd already spilled.
"Logic game, my foot. This place screams 'betrayal trap' louder than a bad rom-com climax," he thought, his inner sarcasm a flimsy shield against the dread pooling in his gut.
"Okay, Usagi, you guard the entrance. Arisu, this is your stage—show us why you're the brains," Kirito said, his voice tight, the flirty lilt strained under the pressure.
[HOST: KIRITO - STATUS UPDATE. STRENGTH: 5. AGILITY: 6. STAMINA: 7.]
[SKILLS (CHEATS): LIE DETECTOR (50 SP), STAMINA BURST (50 SP), AGILITY LEAP (50 SP). SP: 40.]
Arisu nodded, his charcoal-smudged hands already moving toward a complex circuit board mounted on the library's central podium, its wires tangled like a spider's web.
His eyes darted across the schematic, a faint sheen of sweat on his brow catching the neon light.
The game was a logic trap: four players had to complete a power circuit puzzle simultaneously to unlock the exit door, but two of the circuit breakers were hidden, and only two could access the puzzle at a time.
Kirito's pulse spiked, the ticking of the Visa Clock a relentless drumbeat.
"We can't afford trial and error. I'm already in SP debt from the last game. Gotta make this quick, or someone's breaking—probably me."
[SYSTEM: ACTIVATING PUZZLE OVERCLOCK: 50 SP DOCKED. SP REMAINING: -10.]
[NOTE: SP DEBT INCURRED. SYSTEM IS NOW ACTIVE CREDIT LENDER.]
[HOST DEDUCTION TEMPORARILY BOOSTED. VISIBLE EFFECT: ENHANCED MENTAL CLARITY.]
The System's warning flashed in his mind, a cold jolt, but the Overclock kicked in, and the circuit board's chaos snapped into focus—a hidden pattern, an elegant sequence.
"Arisu, the third wire!" Kirito barked, his voice sharp with newfound clarity.
"It's not conductivity—it's order! Throw the breaker after the primary switch, not before!"
Arisu's eyes widened, a spark of understanding cutting through his panic as he adjusted the wires, his fingers trembling but precise.
The board hummed, lights flickering green, the puzzle aligning with a satisfying click.
But before the exit could unlock, a shadow moved among the shelves, swift and menacing.
A man burst into view, his sweat-soaked shirt clinging to a wiry frame, his wild grin glinting with malice in the neon glow.
He didn't head for the door—he lunged for the circuit board, his fist slamming down, shattering the delicate wiring with a crack that echoed like a gunshot.
[SYSTEM: ALERT. EXIT LOCK ENGAGEMENT FAILED. TRAITOR DETECTED.]
A burst of static crackled from a broken radio on a nearby table, its ghostly hum forming a chilling whisper: "Vows, vows, vows."
Kirito's blood ran cold, his knife hand twitching.
"Not again. Not another kill."
The Traitor pivoted, his rusty blade flashing as he charged not for the door, but for Usagi, who stood rigid at the entrance, her ponytail swaying like a target.
[SYSTEM: USER EMOTIONAL STATE: HIGH STRESS. INJECTING SYSTEM GLITCH .]
[SYSTEM: PANIC'S NOT A PLAN, CHARMER. YOU LOOK LIKE A WET KITTEN TRYING TO USE A CALCULATOR.]
The quip barely registered, drowned by the roar of adrenaline as Kirito's Overclocked mind calculated the angles.
He was closest. He was fastest. He had no choice.
His vow against killing shattered like the circuit board as he drew his knife, the motion cold and precise, fueled by the System's clarity.
He intercepted the Traitor, the blade sinking into flesh with a sickening thud, the impact jarring his arm.
The Traitor slumped, his wild grin fading, blood pooling on the parquet as the exit door hissed open.
Kirito stumbled back, the knife slipping from his grip, his breath ragged as regret surged, acrid and heavy, burning his throat.
They fled the library, shelves collapsing in a billowing curtain of dust behind them.
The dark street outside hummed with distant neon, the sound stinging Kirito's ears, amplifying the silence between them.
His hands shook, the blood-stained knife a brand against his thigh, its weight heavier than the dust clinging to his boots.
Usagi broke the quiet, her steady gaze locking onto him, no judgment in her scarred face, only gratitude.
"You saved me. Again."
Arisu knelt on the cracked pavement, sketching absently with a piece of chalk, his voice cold and analytical.
"He had to do it, Kirito. It was logical. This game thrives on treachery. Betrayal is the rule."
Kirito ran a hand through his hair, leaving a streak of dust and blood, his voice barely above a whisper.
"I swore I wouldn't kill again. Twice in two days. This was supposed to be logic, not… this."
[SYSTEM: MORAL REMINDER: ACTIVATED (FREE).]
[NOTE: THE BORDERLAND IS A GAME OF SURVIVAL. ETHICAL CONSIDERATIONS ARE OPTIONAL. YOU ARE ALIVE. REWARD ACQUIRED.]
"Shut up," Kirito muttered, low enough that only the System could hear, his jaw tight with self-loathing.
Usagi's hand found his shoulder, firm and grounding, her voice blunt but kind.
"You saved me. I carry the betrayal, you carry the kill. You chose life over a rule. You chose right."
Her words cut through the fog of his guilt, not erasing it but dulling its edge, like a blade sheathed.
They moved on, their footsteps crunching in unison, a fragile resolve hardening in the neon-lit night.
The overgrown park on the city's outskirts was a stark contrast, its dawn mist swirling like a cool balm against their skin, a fleeting reprieve from the dust and blood.
The air smelled of damp earth, heavy with the weight of untended greenery, vines curling around rusted benches like possessive ghosts.
Kirito checked his phone, the screen's glow hidden in his palm.
[HOST: KIRITO - STATUS UPDATE. STRENGTH: 5. AGILITY: 6. STAMINA: 7.]
[SP GAIN: 40 SP (4♦ WIN REWARD). SP DEBT: -10 SP. DEBT CLEARED. CURRENT SP: 30.]
"Barely above water. Gotta play smarter, not bloodier," he thought, his fingers tightening around the phone.
[SYSTEM: PUZZLE EXECUTION: NEXT GAME SUGGESTION (FREE).]
[ANALYSIS: 3♣ (TEAM TRIAL) OPTIMAL. REWARD: 30 SP.]
"3 of Clubs. Team trial. Low betrayal risk, high teamwork," Kirito said, pointing toward a distant stadium, its silhouette faint against the dawn.
Arisu's eyes flickered with unease, his chalk-smeared fingers twitching.
"More people? More chances for death."
Usagi stepped forward, her voice steady, her boots sinking into the soft earth.
"We keep moving. We need SP. And we need allies for a team game."
A crackle broke the quiet—a broken radio in Usagi's pack, silent for hours, now spitting static.
A voice cut through, faint but clear, speaking of an elusive figure.
"…She's a fast one, Kuina, always up high. They say she runs the 3♣ games like a drill…"
Kirito's pulse quickened, a spark of hope igniting.
"Kuina. Another ally," he said, his voice firm, a surge of resolve binding them.
"Let's find the one who treats these death traps like a workout."
Their footsteps crunched through the park, the mist parting as they headed toward the stadium, the promise of a new ally a faint light in the dawn's haze.
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