Horror Game Developer: My games aren't that scary! Chapter 596: Exposing the Madness [5]

The arena seemed gripped by some kind of enchantment.

Every gaze locked onto the screen's figure, his face utterly ruined with deep gashes and devoid of vital parts like nose and ears.

He resembled a monster.

A horrifying beast that would haunt sleepless nights.

Even in his gruesome condition, the figure stayed utterly composed, his voice echoing through the area.

—...You... get ready. Sacrifice... what you must. Keep conscious.

—H-huh...? W-what do you mean...?

—I mean... what I mean.

He was meant to embody pure fortune.

A man who showed up precisely when and where he needed to.

One never destined to become a Paragon.

But—

—Spurt...!

The videos made it ever clearer that reality was far from that. As footage advanced, viewers confronted his insanity. Flashing images revealed brutal scenes to all.

Drake and Esteban faced similar horrors.

Yet theirs weren't nearly as intense as his.

He pushed everything to extremes, and as events unfolded, eyes turned toward him. He remained motionless, dark eyes glued to the far-off screen.

No emotion showed.

Reading his face proved nearly impossible.

He watched events as if experiencing them anew, apparently unaware of the stares aimed at him.

—Day... 143. I think I get... it. I think I have gotten a grasp on... what I need to do. This place... it.. it’s... What was I talking about? W-what am I doing? I’m thirsty.

—165. Thirsty. Hungry. Thirsty. Hungry. Sleepy. Sleepy. Thirsty. Hungry. Sleepy. Pain. Hate it. I...

—I... I’m going crazy. It’s hard to fight the urges. The... more I sacrifice, the crazier I become... I don’t recall the last time I felt normal. How... long can I keep my sanity for? How long... can I keep my identity for?

His raspy whispers filled the stadium, altering the atmosphere.

Previously blurred by rapid action, his words now hit home, twisting many faces.

"Wait, w-what did he say?"

"One hundred days...?"

"Surely not, right?"

"He must’ve gone mad and lost track of time. Surely he... didn’t do this for so long."

"But didn’t that previous group say they’ve been there for a decade?"

The ensuing quiet grew unbearably heavy while they saw Seth gradually stand. That basic action looked agonizingly tough, his frame wobbling, but propelled by an invisible force, he pressed on, shuffling toward the castle hallway.

"No, what is he doing...?"

"W-why is he leaving?"

The crowd had become so engrossed that they'd overlooked Seth's current well-being.

Gaping at the monitor, fists tightened for many.

Particularly when—

Thump!

Seth lurched ahead, his body struggling to follow.

"Ah!"

"...No!"

—How pitiful.

Tension spiked further with a faint voice murmuring.

—You look really pitiful at the moment. Is it really worth it? Torturing yourself to this point? For what reason?

Though serene, the voice sent chills through countless hearts.

Not new to their ears, yet each hearing stirred an itch deep inside, urging obedience.

This led many to wonder...

If a mere recording evoked this, how nightmarish was the real encounter?

—You could’ve chosen the easy way out. You could’ve eaten all the food you wanted, drunk all the water you desired, and slept in the finest beds you’ll ever lie on. Instead, you struggled for hundreds of days... for what? What exactly did you struggle for?

The voice resounded across the arena, enforcing a heavy hush as all watched.

Though silent, everyone craved the same answer.

Why?

Why persist in the fight?

—But in the end... You were just struggling out of stubbornness.

Indeed, mere stubbornness.

What else could it be?

Elsewise, why endure?

—You struggled not because you didn’t want to die or anything like that. The reason you refused to die was simply that you’re stubborn. That’s all. You’re nothing special. You’re just... like everyone else. A more pitiful version of them.

Nods rippled subconsciously through the crowd.

Was it the voice's pull, or their own agreement?

No one knew, audience included.

What but stubbornness would drive such self-torment? Most would've quit ages ago.

No reason demanded this of him.

Absolutely no—

—Ha... ha.

A brief, raspy chuckle broke myriad thoughts, eyes bulging wide.

Not his first laugh.

But this one felt off as he lifted his head toward the invisible form.

—I... want to...

His fractured voice drew total focus.

Only his words rang out as ears strained.

Want...? Want wha—

—...Make you bow.

"...."

"...."

The atmosphere thickened instantly.

Suffocation hit like oxygen vanished.

Breaths labored for many.

Still, no one averted eyes.

All fixated on the screen.

—I want to know... how it feels...

Before the spectacle playing out.

—...to step on a King.

The insanity.

—Ha... ha...

His renewed laughter triggered shudders across every body there. Not just spectators, but Paragons and contestants below the stage, all pivoting toward the source.

Calmly, he met their glares.

He embraced it all as his on-screen cackle escalated wildly.

—Hahaha... Ha!

Louder laughs amplified the chills.

Those tremors intensified until his voice hit again.

—H-haha. With my eye clear, I can see... through the illusions. I can see through the fakery of this place. B-but despite that, I can’t see you.

No one could spot him.

Sudden insights jolted some minds.

Keen Paragons grasped it quickest.

—Your name. I... know your name.

Hysterical laughter erupted anew.

Yet silence held, though they glimpsed the foe's faint expression change opposite Seth.

Had he uncovered a truth?

What truth...?

"Ah!"

An audience cry pierced suddenly.

"That’s...! The key to getting out of this place is likely finding out the identity of the person standing in front of him!"

"c—!"

Eyes bulged wide.

"Right! How could I not have thought about it!?"

"Since he takes identities, what happens if you give him his identity back?!2

"That’s...!"

Events matched their guesses perfectly.

Seth parted lips to yell the name facing him.

But...

Blocks halted every attempt.

—Know your place.

The venue shook.

—Rattle! Rattle!

Chaos mounted wildly as Seth fought to utter it, crowd teetering on seats' edges.

Say it! Say it!

Still, the name eluded his tongue.

He neared it repeatedly, only hurled back at the brink.

That instant marked Seth's grasp slipping.

"Akh!"

"No...!"

Cries erupted.

Total immersion gripped the viewers.

"Shit!"

"How the hell can he beat that thing? It’s impossible! It’s...!"

Footsteps echoed through.

Silence blanketed once more.

Drake and Esteban reappeared. Neither fared well, their gazes at Seth mixing dread and unease.

—D-do it.

His command triggered instant compliance.

View switched.

To Esteban's feed as he plunged into his leg, blood spraying wildly.

——!

Comprehension struck the crowd.

He...!

—RATTLE! RATTLE!

Shaking intensified as the voice sounded frantic.

—Stop it!

Esteban and Drake pressed on.

—You do not understand what you are doing. Stop this at once!

Panic laced the tone clearly.

It thundered arena-wide. Yet they persisted.

No, Esteban paused briefly, glancing at Seth.

That's when all witnessed it.

The deranged, insane grin etched on his mouth as he eyed the shape before him.

Bloodshot eyes stayed pried open.

Then—!

—Spurt!

Drake's blade slashed his neck, lopping off the head.

No screams rose.

No noises escaped.

No...

Sound fled entirely as they watched Drake seize Seth's decapitated head, blood pattering down.

Hush devoured the stadium.

Be it footage or venue-wide.

Utter quiet reigned.

Hearts synchronized in that instant.

Ba... Thump! Ba... Thump!

They observed Drake approach the empty silhouette ahead, kneel, and offer the head.

Save blood's faint drip from Seth's head, silence held.

Yet—

Almost, they heard thoughts unspoken.

That day revealed it to all.

Seth's concealed warped essence.

The madness.