Kabukicho at night was a graveyard that hadn't finished dying.
Kai walked two blocks ahead of the others. He kept his eyes forward, tracking the sound of the sneakers and the heavy boots behind him. Too much noise. Too many limbs to account for.
A rusted bicycle lay crushed under a collapsed vending machine. The front wheel was still perfectly aligned, completely untouched by the rust eating the frame.
The air tasted like stale ash and wet garbage.
Kai kept his hands in his pockets. The matte glass of his Signal was warm against his knuckles.
He pressed his thumb hard against the scar in his eyebrow. The skin was numb. It didn't help.
Three streets down, the dark broke.
Far to the west, a harsh white punched out of a parking garage. To the east, a sickly green radiated from a department store.
Directly ahead, a four-story former theater bled red light onto the asphalt, making the dead street look wet.
Kai stopped twenty feet from the entrance.
Ren walked past him, stopping inches from the shattered glass of the doors. The orange of his jacket looked bruised under the red wash. Saya didn't step forward. She stayed near the curb, her hands curling into fists against her thighs.
"Hearts," she said. Her voice was completely hollow.
She looked at the shattered glass of the double doors. "The worst ones are always red," she said quietly.
Ren shifted his weight. "We have to play something."
"We don't have to play this." She didn't look at him. "Spades is physical. Clubs is teamwork. You can train for those. You can run. You can fight."
"And Hearts?" Kai asked. He was looking at the gap where the glass doors used to be.
"You can't fight a room full of people deciding whether you deserve to live." Saya adjusted her collar. A tiny, useless movement.
Ren shoved his hands into his pockets. He looked at the red light, then at Kai, then at Saya. He forced a smile. Only the left side of his mouth moved.
"Great," Ren said. He stepped over the broken glass.
Kai stared at the back of Ren's jacket, his mind stalling for a fraction of a second.
"Two Pulse Days left," Ren said. "So do you. So does she." He stepped toward the bleeding light. "Staying out here doesn't change the math."
He wasn't wrong. Kai's jaw tightened.
Kai dropped his hand from his scar. He stepped over a pile of broken glass and walked through the doors.
The lobby smelled like rotting velvet. The red light was coming from the ceiling panels, humming with a low, electrical vibration that vibrated in Kai's teeth. The carpet was thick, masking their footsteps.
A metal turnstile blocked the corridor leading deeper into the building.
As Kai approached it, his pocket vibrated.
A hard, violent buzz. Then another.
He pulled the Signal out. Ren and Saya did the same.
The screens went black. A sharp hum vibrated through the glass, followed by a flash of green light that stung his pupils.
BIOMETRICS REGISTERED.
The text appeared in stark white against the black glass. Then the screen wiped itself clean.
New text loaded. Slower this time.
3 of HEARTS
LAST WORD
PLAYERS : 5 TIME LIMIT : 90 Minutes PULSE REWARD : 3 Days
The metal turnstile clicked. A heavy, mechanical clunk echoing in the empty lobby. Unlocked.
"Five players," Saya said, staring at her screen.
Kai looked down the dark hallway. "We're walking into an established room."
He pushed through the turnstile. The metal bars squealed.
Down a short, windowless hallway, another set of doors stood open. The red light was blinding in here. It saturated everything, making depth perception difficult.
Kai stopped in the doorway. Two people were already sitting at a round metal table in the center of the windowless room. Three empty chairs waited.
Terrified. Completely readable. A man sweating through an expensive suit, looking for an authority figure who wasn't coming.
Mori Takashi. That was the name Kai filed him under when the man looked up.
His hands kept pulling at his cuffs, tearing at the buttons.
The second occupant was a young woman.
She sat in the chair furthest from the door. Dark hair pulled back so tight it looked painful. She was wearing a grey sweater and denim jeans.
She sat motionless, her breathing invisible. Her hands were placed flat on her knees.
Kai looked at her. Really looked.
She hadn't looked at the door when they entered. Her eyes were fixed on the center of the metal table, tracking nothing.
Kai filed the anomaly.
Ren walked past Kai, stepping into the room like he was entering a coffee shop.
"Hey," Ren said to Mori. "I'm Ren."
Mori flinched, backing into the wall. "Don't come near me." His voice cracked.
Saya walked in, her boots completely silent on the concrete floor. She took the chair closest to the door, sitting down but keeping her weight on the balls of her feet.
Kai took the chair directly across from the quiet girl.
He placed his Signal face-up on the metal table.
A mechanical hum resonated from the walls.
Behind them, the heavy steel doors slammed shut. A series of deadbolts fired into place, vibrating through the concrete floor.
From a slot in the center of the table, a small mechanical tray elevated.
Sitting on the tray were five rectangular cards, face down. The backs were identical, printed with a dense, black geometric pattern.
Every Signal on the table buzzed simultaneously.
Kai looked down at his screen. The rules loaded.
RULES:
Five players. One room.
Each player takes ONE card. Do NOT show anyone.
Every 20 minutes, players VOTE. Lowest votes = ELIMINATED.
Eliminated player's card is revealed.
Game ends when condition is met.
"FIND THE DEALER."
TIMER : 89:59
The numbers ticked down to 89:58.
Mori let out a sound that was half-sob, half-cough.
Ren was staring at the rules, the muscles in his jaw ticking.
Saya didn't blink.
Kai reached out and took the first card from the tray. The cardboard was stiff. He didn't turn it over yet. He kept it pressed flat against the metal table.
He looked at the quiet girl. She reached out with a trembling hand and took a card. She pulled it immediately to her chest, pressing it against her sweater so hard her knuckles turned white.
Find the Dealer.
Kai kept his face entirely blank.
A firing squad where everyone held a gun, and nobody knew who was supposed to bleed.
Eighty-nine minutes.
Kai turned his card over, shielding it with his palm.
A single number. 2.
Not the Dealer.
He looked at the four strangers sitting around the metal table.
The timer dropped to 89:00.