Chapter 9: The Crushing Weight of Absolute Memory
"Double Concentration," 104 cards.
For an ordinary person, this is not just a test of memory, but a torture of the spirit.
Yet in Itsuki Sumeragi's eyes, this was nothing more than a one-sided slaughter.
"Heart 3."
Itsuki flipped the first card, then confidently reached for a card in the bottom left corner and turned it over.
"Heart 3."
A successful pair.
"Oh my, how lucky," she giggled, feigning surprise while covering her mouth, though her eyes were full of mockery. "Next is... Spade K."
She successfully paired two more sets in rapid succession.
The spectating students erupted in amazement.
"Is Sumeragi-san actually this strong?"
"This isn't luck; it's pure skill."
"That Ayanokoji is finished. There's no way he's keeping his nails."
I watched the scene in silence—watching her fluid movements and the almost imperceptible pause she made before each flip.
Her gaze wasn't focused on memorizing the cards; she was confirming the patterns on the card backs.
Small variations that only appear at specific angles or under certain temperatures. As the daughter of Japan's leading toy manufacturer, obtaining these custom-made "marked cards" was child's play for her.
My turn.
I flipped one at random. Club 7.
Then another, carelessly. Diamond J.
Failure.
"What a shame, senpai," Itsuki laughed, her body shaking. "It seems your memory isn't quite up to par?"
In the following rounds, I "erred" several more times, either intentionally or unintentionally. Either I flipped the wrong position, or I "forgot" a card that had clearly appeared before.
The pile of cards in front of Itsuki grew taller, while the space before me remained empty.
The score gap widened to 30 to 0.
"Boring."
The excitement on Itsuki's face gradually faded, replaced by the contempt one holds for a dead object.
"I thought you'd be more interesting. It turns out you're just another trashy bluffer."
She reached out, ready to end the game once and for all.
"It's about time to finish this. I can't wait to hear you scream when your nails are ripped out."
"Yes, it is about time to finish this."
I spoke suddenly.
Itsuki's fingers froze in mid-air. She looked at me with confusion.
"You've had your fun, haven't you? With this victory built on cheating."
My voice wasn't loud, but it reached her ears with perfect clarity.
"Wh—What did you say? Are you slandering me because you're a sore loser?" Itsuki's expression changed drastically as she barked back.
"You brought this deck. The patterns on the back use a thermal-sensitive coating. Though minute, there is a color difference caused by your body temperature or specific lighting."
I ignored her defense. I leaned forward slightly, my stagnant, pond-like eyes locking onto hers for the first time.
"Furthermore, your gaze duration betrayed you. Before every flip, you stared at the target card back for an average of 0.3 seconds. You were confirming the marks."
"You... you're talking nonsense!" Cold sweat began to roll down Itsuki's forehead.
"Since you won't admit it, let me demonstrate."
It was my turn.
This time, I didn't look at the cards on the table.
I looked at Itsuki, my gaze so hollow it was bone-chilling.
My right hand moved as if it had a mind of its own, darting out with extreme speed yet perfect stability.
Flip. First card: Spade A.
Instantly moving to the other end of the table.
Flip. Second card: Spade A.
Pair successful.
Without a moment's pause, my hand moved again.
Club 9. Club 9.
Diamond Q. Diamond Q.
"This... this is impossible..." Itsuki's eyes widened as if she were seeing a ghost. "Even if you could memorize the cards, there were so many cards that haven't been flipped yet... how could you possibly know..."
"If you've seen them, then I know where they are."
I said flatly, the speed of my hands never slowing down.
"During the first round of shuffling, your eyes swept across the entire deck. You were looking for the cards you wanted. Your eye movement patterns, combined with the momentary changes in your pupils and every position you confirmed while cheating..."
"All the information was right there."
My fingers danced across the table like someone playing a deathly piano concerto.
The sound of each card being flipped was like a hammer blow to Itsuki's heart.
This was one of the most basic lessons of the "White Room": constructing a complete three-dimensional model in the brain through extremely minute amounts of information.
Even if a card only revealed a corner, or if the opponent's eye twitched slightly.
In my mind, these 104 cards were no longer face down. They were as clear as if they were all spread out face up.
In the blink of an eye, the pile of cards in front of me surpassed Itsuki's.
The final two.
Without even thinking, I flipped them over.
Joker. Joker.
Game over.
The table was now empty.
I tossed the final two cards in front of the shivering Itsuki and spoke calmly:
"52 to 0. That is the score of the second half. Total score: 52 to 52. A draw? No. According to the rules, if the second player clears the remaining cards, they are declared the victor."
Itsuki slumped into her chair. Her prized lacquer box was knocked over by her trembling hand, scattering her collection of nails across the floor.
She looked at me as if she were looking at a monster wearing human skin.
"You... what exactly... are you..."
"My name? Kiyotaka Ayanokoji."
I stood up and straightened my unwrinkled uniform.
"I'll take the twenty million. Also, as an added condition..."
I gave her a look devoid of any emotion.
"You should give up that disgusting nail-collecting habit as soon as possible. It's truly an eyesore."