Chapter 191: Mutual Imitation? Kaguya's Dazzling Debut
Extreme Imitator.
The moment Haruto read the words painted on the plaque, a single thought solidified in his mind: This is a guaranteed win. No matter how difficult, how dangerous, or how utterly life-threatening the required actions were, sending Kaguya in was unquestionably the correct move.
He ambled over to the small team of players who were hesitating at the tent's entrance.
"Why aren't you going in?"
A young woman with her hair tied up in a high ponytail turned at the sound of his voice. Seeing him approach, a bitter smile touched her lips. "Because it's too difficult," she said, her tone heavy with resignation.
A middle-aged man beside her elaborated, his expression grim. "This game is much harder than the others. It requires a two-person team. One person plays rock-paper-scissors, and the other is the performer. The winner has ten seconds to perform an action, and the loser—the imitator—must perfectly replicate it within one minute. If they fail..." He swallowed hard. "An organ will be arbitrarily stripped from their body."
"Well, that does sound a bit difficult." Haruto spread his hands, his peripheral vision sliding toward Kaguya.
He had initially assumed it was a simple one-sided imitation game, where you just had to copy a set of predetermined actions. He hadn't expected it to be a competitive showdown where both sides had to come up with moves for the other to copy.
No wonder the place was deserted.
Even if a team managed to survive the initial, high-difficulty acrobatic challenges, they would eventually have to compete against ghosts in a contest of pure recklessness. It was a simple, brutal test of who had the tougher life—or rather, who was harder to kill.
But Haruto wasn't the least bit flustered.
There was no need to be.
His team had a cheat code.
Kaguya, keenly aware of his gaze, couldn't help but shiver. She shot him a look that clearly said, 'What are you looking at me for?'Another member of the hesitant team, a short-haired youth, couldn't hold back his frustration. His voice rose in agitation. "You call that'a bit difficult'? Are you taking this too lightly? We're talking about professional acrobatic moves! Just for the simplest one, can you do a perfect split on the spot, right now?"
Haruto nodded.
'Forget Youmu and Kaguya,'he thought,'even I can do that.'
Thanks to Yukari's repeated "assistance," his physical conditioning had improved by leaps and bounds, and his flexibility had progressed considerably along with it.
A split?
Wasn't that something anyone could do?
The short-haired youth saw Haruto's nod and the utterly unimpressed, "it's that simple" expression on his face, and he grew even more anxious.
"Then—then can you mutilate yourself? Let me tell you, two groups have already gone in! Even if you can actually pull off the high-difficulty moves, the thing you're up against will just stab itself with a knife!"
Stab itself with a knife?
A snort of laughter escaped Haruto's lips, and his gaze once again drifted toward Kaguya.
"What are you laughing at?" The short-haired youth stomped his foot, his face a mask of frantic concern. "You don't think I'm lying, do you? There's no benefit for me to lie to you, and this isn't an instance where we have to kill each other! If you don't believe me, ask my teammates! They can all vouch for it!"
The high-ponytail girl stepped forward and impatiently smacked the back of his head before turning to Haruto with a sigh.
"Xiao Fa isn't lying," she explained. "Besides physical flexibility, the most important part of this game is winning at rock-paper-scissors. The first two losses just involve imitating body movements. The third and fourth rounds involve dangerous actions. And after that..."
She paused, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "You die. So you have to win within the first four rounds. Don't think you'll get more chances. If you haven't won by then, it's basically a dead end."
"Understood." Haruto nodded, offering a genuine note of thanks. He could tell she wasn't trying to deceive him.
"No problem," the young woman replied, waving a dismissive hand.
Haruto walked over to Kaguya. Before he could even open his mouth, the princess spoke first, her voice a faint, lazy drawl.
"Don't tell me you want me to be the imitator."
"Besides you, who else is qualified for this glorious post? We can't exactly let Youmu do it, can we?" Haruto stated, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
"Actually... I could do it," Youmu offered quietly, silently raising her hand as she felt Kaguya's faint, expectant gaze on her.
Kaguya immediately pounced on the opportunity. "See? Even Youmu said so. Besides, I think you're quite suitable yourself. Don't you have a similar constitution?"
"...I'm still a child."
Kaguya shot him a look that screamed, 'Have you no shame?' "Don't you usually resist it when people treat you like a child?"
"The past is the past, the present is the present. How can you compare the two?" Haruto's expression didn't so much as flicker, his heart not skipping a single beat.
"Then... help me steal back all the games and manga that Eirin confiscated."
"Pick another one," Haruto refused decisively.
Sneak into Yagokoro Eirin's bedroom to steal things? He'd be found, tied to the bed, and used for target practice with her experimental drug-filled syringes. No, thank you.
"Then..." Kaguya's eyes lit up. "After we go back, you, me, and that roasted chicken will develop a new type of Offal Soup, and we'll all drink it together!"
The mere mention of it sent a visible thrill of excitement through her entire body.
"Let's talk about that first wish again," Haruto said, the corner of his mouth twitching violently.
Was she kidding? The entire reason he didn't want to be the imitator was because he was afraid of pain. Develop a new type of Offal Soup? The so-called "new type" was just a euphemism for Offal Soup with his offal added to the recipe.
Suffering now or suffering later—it was all still suffering.
But if he really had to choose between the two... he might as well just be the imitator. He estimated that the suffering involved in this game couldn't possibly be worse than whatever culinary horror Kaguya and Mokou would cook up together.
Kaguya's lip curled in a pout, a flash of regret in her eyes, but getting her games and manga back was a victory in itself.
"Fine, I accept. With me here, a win is guaranteed!" she declared, her confidence radiating.
Haruto didn't doubt her for a second.
Forget stabbing herself a few times. Even if the challenge was decapitation, disembowelment, or being thrown into a vat of boiling oil, Kaguya probably wouldn't even blink.
Just as the three of them were about to head toward the tent, the girl with the high ponytail stopped them.
"You guys... should probably reconsider." She couldn't help but speak up. "Five hundred meters to the left, there's a balloon-popping game. The line is long, but it's much simpler."
She had silently listened to their entire "tactical discussion."
It couldn't even be called that. They had argued on the spot over who would play rock-paper-scissors and who would be the imitator. The girl didn't know whether to call them recklessly bold or admire their unconditional trust in each other.
She didn't consider herself a particularly kind person, one who would go out of her way to help strange players, but she couldn't just stand by and watch three kids who looked like they were still in school walk straight to their deaths.
"Thanks for the reminder."
Although Haruto said the words, his feet didn't stop. He led Kaguya and Youmu straight to the tent entrance.
The girl with the high ponytail opened her mouth, but in the end, she didn't try to stop them again, only letting out a low, weary sigh.
The light inside the tent was dim, and the air hung thick with the coppery scent of blood mixed with stale dust. In the center of the space stood a faded mahogany long table, flanked by two transparent glass rooms.
Opposite the table sat a woman with an unnaturally long neck. When she saw them enter, her eyes widened, and she slapped the wooden table in a frenzy of excitement.
"More people! Finally, someone has come!"
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