Unknown had been repeatedly banging his head against the glass wall for the past half hour. The reason? He simply couldn't grasp what Gin was trying to tell him.
Nicholas gathered that the demon wasn't able to pull out the keyboard and type the answer for him. He assumed the Mind had imposed a new rule—one that prevented the demon from breaking his equipment.
Upon realizing this, Nicholas clicked his tongue in irritation, mentally calling the Mind childish. He wasn't sure if he was just bad at interpreting Gin's frantic gestures or if the demon was simply terrible at conveying information. Either way, it was frustrating.
At one point, Nicholas waved a dismissive hand at the demon, signaling him to just solve the riddle and give him the answer. Gin, of course, protested, flipping Unknown off before resorting to more aggressive gesturing. Nicholas, however, was beyond caring. He wasn't just going to sit there and wait—he had already started theorizing possible answers.
There didn't appear to be a time limit. He had counted at least thirty minutes, and no immediate danger had surfaced.
The last answer was trust. So could this one be related? Trust… trust… trust… Choice? Perhaps choosing to trust? He was grasping at straws, and he knew it. Running both hands through his hair in frustration, he sighed. This was getting old.
With a shrug, he turned to the keyboard and decided to 'wing it.' He typed: C-H-O-I-C-E.
Incorrect.
Nicholas groaned and glanced back at Gin, only to feel his blood run cold.
From the ceiling, long metal barrels had emerged, glowing ominously. Without warning, flames burst forth, flooding one side of the room in a scorching inferno.
Gin looked just as alarmed and immediately began shouting—probably cursing Unknown to hell and back. Nicholas's eyes darted back to the keyboard, his mind shifting into overdrive.
More and more flamethrowers materialized by the second. The pressure mounted. Then, a single word appeared on the screen:
Hint: The answer is related to the previous riddle. They are two sides of the same coin.
What?! His thoughts raced in panic. Related to trust? It took him a few seconds to formulate an answer.
'…Betrayal… It's betrayal!'
His fingers flew over the keyboard, hammering in the answer: B-E-T-R-A-Y-A-L.
A sharp beep. The doors swung open.
But the flames didn't stop.
Nicholas spun toward the glass, slamming his fists against it, trying to get Gin's attention. "Move!" he shouted, but the demon was frozen, eyes locked onto the advancing flames.
Nicholas gritted his teeth. Enough of this.
Summoning a longsword of Darkium, he plunged the blade into the glass. The material split apart effortlessly, the cut so clean it didn't even crack the surrounding surface—as if the glass itself hadn't realized it had been pierced.
Nicholas dismissed the weapon and shouted through the opening.
"GET A MOVE ON, DUMBASS!"
Gin's head snapped toward the open doorway. In the blink of an eye, he bolted, diving through the exit just before the flames reached him.
Nicholas exhaled sharply, relief washing over him. Without wasting another second, he sprinted through his door, and it slammed shut behind him.
The next room was... different.
The atmosphere and interior resembled something out of the 20th century. The best way Nicholas could describe it was old-timey—filled with furniture that felt out of place in the modern world. The walls were lined with bookshelves, their wooden frames packed with thick tomes. In the center of the room stood a large round dining table, adorned with elaborate decorations. Suspended above it, a grand chandelier cast a warm, flickering glow across the space.
Nicholas took it all in, but his attention quickly snapped to the most unfortunate detail.
Gin was here, too.
Both of them stood still, locking eyes in silent frustration before exchanging exasperated glares.
"How hard was it to figure out that the answer was betrayal?" Nicholas asked, crossing his arms. "What sort of riddle did you have?"
Gin deflected. "Oh, good job out there—except for the part where you nearly got me killed."
Nicholas rolled his eyes. "You're alive, aren't you?"
Gin scoffed, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Barely."
"So where's my thank you?" Nicholas asked with a smirk.
"As if I'd thank you for nearly killing me," Gin snapped back. "So, you can use your weird power to cut the glass… Why didn't you do so earlier?"
Nicholas paused, deep in thought. "Wasn't sure if I should have."
Gin raised an eyebrow. "So why did you?"
"Well, you were going to die, no?"
That made the demon pause. As much as his pride wouldn't allow him to admit it, Unknown had a point. He was going to die. He could have done nothing in that situation if it hadn't been for Unknown.
"Also, you should get your eyes checked. I could swear I saw them glance at the open door, yet you still didn't move." Unknown's comment made Gin scowl beneath his mask.
Suddenly, the demon really wished he had his weapons.
"Fuck off," Gin muttered. "If I were in your shoes, I would've probably left... well, me to die."
Unknown stared at the demon for a few seconds before replying.
"Guess that's just the difference between you and me. If… there's someone in front of me that needs help and I can help them, I will help them."
Gin shook his head in bewilderment. 'This guy is surprisingly naïve.'
"That line of thinking is gonna get you killed one day… Maybe even later today."
Nicholas didn't need to be a genius to figure out the demon's intent with that tone and those words. He was basically saying he'd backstab him the first chance he got or at least until they escaped this twisted game.
How… annoying. Nicholas thought. At least he has the decency to tell me he's going to try to kill me again.
He sighed, shaking his head. "Whatever."
The demon let out a breath and turned away, pacing toward the bookshelf, fingers tracing over the dusty spines of old books.
Nicholas eyed the chandelier above the table, his mind already working through the next potential trick this room might throw at them.
"…Why don't you just use your power now? You could probably cut a hole in the wall easily," the demon suggested, breaking Nicholas's thought process.
Nicholas frowned. It wasn't that he hadn't thought of it—but he was afraid of what might happen. The Mind still had his stuff, after all… Stuff?
His eyes shifted toward Gin, a hint of boredom creeping into his gaze. "Now that I think about it, it's a bit surprising how you're keeping your cool. With you missing your weapons and all that, I half-expected you to thrash about."
The demon scoffed. "Believe me, I am seething with rage… just nothing much I can do about it right now."
Right, that makes sense. Nicholas recalled how furious Gin had been when Nicholas took his gun. He was definitely within range of getting beaten up back then. With a shrug, he formed a blade of Darkium.
"I'd advise… against that."
The Mind's cold voice rang through the room. Both men immediately scanned their surroundings for a monitor but found nothing.
Then, Nicholas's eyes landed on a speaker in the corner of the ceiling. "…Huh. Almost didn't recognize it." It was an old, outdated design, the kind of speaker that might have existed before the 2000s. He really went all out with the old-timey aesthetic, huh?
"Should you attempt to… damage… my property further, I'm afraid I'll have to take out my anger on my hostages."
Gin almost laughed but held himself back. If it were up to him, he'd still try breaking the rules to get out, but his… companion wasn't like that. The moment the word hostages was uttered, Unknown froze.
"Be not afraid. So long as you continue playing the game properly, no harm shall come to them."
Unknown swallowed. "…How can I trust what you say?"
"You can't. You'll have to take my word for it."
A pause.
"You will both have sixty minutes to deal with this Escape Room. Your time begins… now."
Silence followed.
Neither of them moved at first.
At least, Gin didn't. He simply watched as Unknown processed what had just been said. He wasn't in any sort of hurry. The lives of those he didn't know meant nothing to him.
Somewhat uncomfortable with the quiet, the demon finally spoke up. "He'll keep his word. Probably."
Unknown glanced at him, skeptical.
"I don't know much about The Mind. He's pretty much an enigma, but I've heard stories. He abducts villains from the VilZone, throws them into his games, and if they complete them, they get out relatively unharmed."
Unknown didn't look convinced, so Gin continued.
"Besides, he treated our wounds. I think that earns him some points." The demon gestured toward his side, where Unknown had previously stabbed him.
Unknown blinked before pulling at his shirt slightly. Sure enough, there was a bandage wrapped around his chest. Huh… How did I not notice that before?
He dismissed the thought. There were more pressing concerns.
Without responding to Gin, he started inspecting the room—the bookshelves, the walls, the furniture. Eventually, his eyes landed on the chandelier's candles.
"See those?" he asked. "They aren't lit, but doesn't that one look different from the others?"
Gin debated ignoring him but decided against it. Pettiness wouldn't get him anywhere in this situation.
"Yeah? What about it?"
Unknown gave him a blank look. "Can you get it?"
With a sigh, Gin grabbed a chair, climbed on top, and reached for the odd candle. The moment his fingers brushed against it, he noticed something off.
Plastic.
Flipping it over, he found a battery compartment at the base. The other candles were wax.
Wordlessly, he handed it to Unknown.
"Thanks," Unknown muttered before hesitating. His eyes flickered to the side, his voice quieter when he added, "And… thanks for trying to comfort me, I guess."
Gin stared at him, visibly uncomfortable. "…Don't mention it."
He quickly changed the subject. "So? What now?"
"Help me find a switch to turn off the lights."
Gin raised a brow. "Why?"
Unknown turned on the plastic candle. A dim, purple glow shone in the room.
"…It's a UV light," he explained. "There are three grey spots on the wall over there. If we cut the lights, this thing will probably reveal something important."
With that explanation, the demon decided to put his trust in Unknown and followed his lead, offering assistance here and there whenever he noticed something Unknown had overlooked.
They worked at a steady pace, solving each puzzle quickly without losing momentum. Despite that, they still found time to chat.
"So, what happened to the three stooges? You didn't kill them, did you?"
"Three stooges…? Ah, you mean Wallace and the other two? Couldn't be bothered with them. I was so focused on you, that I forgot those three were even there."
"Wow. I'm flattered. But I don't swing that way."
"...Bastard used my own joke against me. Should've specified focused on killing you."
"Should've, would've, could've."
"Hah. This guy is really asking for an ass-whooping."
"...I've been wondering. Just what is your power? Limited super-speed or something?"
"The hell is 'limited super-speed'? And no, I don't have any powers."
Unknown froze, slowly turning to look at him.
"…Say that again?" His voice carried genuine shock.
Gin snickered. "What? I'm a normie. I ain't an Awakened." He crossed his arms, looking very smug. "Feels bad, huh? Knowing you got your ass handed to you by someone with no powers?"
Unknown huffed in annoyance. "Yeah, well, I was practically running the gauntlet that entire day. Ever since I stepped foot in the VilZone, it was just fight after fight after fight. By the time I got to you, I was beyond exhausted."
"Who's making excuses now?" Gin snorted, clearly enjoying himself.
"Not my fault there's always a convenient excuse."
"Aha! So you do admit it's an excuse?" Gin grinned.
Unknown immediately cut the conversation short by giving Gin the silent treatment. The silence between them wasn't entirely unpleasant. It wasn't hostile or cold—just… easy. Gin could tell Unknown was just messing with him.
Neither would admit it, but they found each other's company fun.
Perhaps in a different life, they could have even been friends.
But they both knew that wasn't possible.
The game was coming to an end. As they placed a series of books on the shelf in a specific order, a soft click echoed through the room. The bookshelf trembled before swiveling open, revealing a secret passageway.
Without hesitation, they stepped inside. The entrance sealed behind them. Gin continued walking forward, but Unknown stopped. Noticing this, the demon gave him a questioning look.
Unknown hesitated before finally speaking. "Why are you doing this?"
That question made Gin halt in his tracks.
In a way, he had expected it. Maybe not here, maybe not now—but at some point, Unknown was bound to ask.
"You'll have to be more specific." Gin's tone was casual, but Unknown could tell he was avoiding the question.
"Why… are you part of the criminal underworld?" Unknown studied him carefully before adding, "You… you're not a bad p—"
Gin lifted a hand, cutting him off.
"Listen… just because you've seen my more laid-back side doesn't mean you can say whatever's on your mind." His voice carried a warning edge, cold and distant. "You have no idea what kind of person I really am. Trust me when I say… I am the bad guy."
Unknown held his gaze, unflinching. "…Not all bad guys… are the bad guy."
Gin exhaled sharply through his nose, looking away.
"So? Just tell me—why? Why are you here? What's your goal?"
The demon paused as if weighing his options. Then he removed his Oni mask.
Beneath it was a surprisingly handsome young man. He smirked, though it was a fabricated one. A well-crafted mask, just like the one he had just removed. His eyes, however… were empty.
Devoid of light.
Devoid of hope.
Devoid of life.
"Let's just say I've got someone I have to kill."
Unknown narrowed his eyes. "So it's just revenge—"
Gin cut him off again.
"Let me assure you, it goes far deeper than just revenge." He tilted his head slightly, a ghost of something unreadable flickering across his face. "In fact, I suppose you could say I've got two people to kill."
Unknown furrowed his brows. "…Who? Who could be so important that you'd go down this path?"
Gin's lips curled into a sharp, unsettling smile.
"My scumbag old man, of course."
The grin was radiant. Perfectly shaped. Almost charming.
But Nicholas wasn't fooled.
Because beneath it, lurking in those cold, lifeless eyes—
There was…
Pure hate.