Seth's eyes went wide with shock. "They… so besides Harrison, there were others?"
To satisfy his curiosity—and honestly, to show off the brilliance of my master plan—I clapped my hands and ordered the so-called Rabbit Overseers to remove their masks.
Familiar faces emerged from the crowd. People who'd been contestants in this very game, standing there in their rabbit masks.
"Vivian, Rosa… Sophie, oh, you wouldn't know Sophie. She's the one who had Harrison take her place in the game. Every good story needs some melodrama, right? Otherwise the audience gets bored. Though admittedly, she didn't add much."
Seth looked like a man standing at the edge of an abyss. He had gone completely still, mouth working but no sound coming out.
I almost felt sorry for him. "Actually, I built quite a few puzzles into this game. You just never found any of them. Like the piano piece that looped every night—The Thirteenth Eye. It's a reference to the demon who seduces humans into taking their own lives, stripping them of their right to enter heaven and enslaving them forever. That was a pretty obvious hint, wasn't it? Can't really blame me if none of you figured it out."
What I didn't tell him was something else entirely—something far more personal.
During the first round's patrol mission, the long-haired man who'd lain on the floor mimicking the Mona Lisa's pose—that had been my first body. He'd been placed there deliberately, a piece of decoration I'd hidden inside the game.
Seth laughed, but his face was wet with tears. "Yeah. You're right. It's my fault. I got cancer and actually believed there was such a thing as rebirth. I was a fool."
I seized his hand and held it tight. "Don't be afraid. I'll find you a new body. All you have to do is promise to stay with me. Forever."
Seth sneered. Then he looked at me with eyes full of pure, white-hot hatred and spat out the vilest curse imaginable.
I released his hand, my enthusiasm draining away. "How boring. Suit yourself. You won't live much longer anyway. Lucky for you, some of our audience seems fond of your innocent routine. Maybe I'll have you converted into a robot and sold for a good price. That could be fun."
I waved my hand dismissively. The rabbit-mechanics dragged Seth away.
He kept cursing me even as they hauled him off, his voice echoing down the corridor until it faded.
I rolled my eyes. "Lucky, but stupid."
5
Not long after Seth was gone, I returned to my office.
Every time a game ended, there was a mountain of post-game administrative work to deal with.
I was a businessman first and foremost. I never missed a chance to turn a profit.
Harrison entered and gave his report. "Master, there were indeed pinhole cameras embedded inside the stickers. They've been located and destroyed."
I nodded. "Well done."
He should have left after that, but he lingered, standing at attention, watching me.
I raised an eyebrow. "Something else on your mind?"
Harrison said, "Unit 3721, Quinn, has completed his robotic conversion. Would the master like to inspect him?"
My interest was immediately piqued. "Now that's a talent worth looking at. I absolutely must."
No one had ever aligned so perfectly with my vision.
A man willing to be absolutely ruthless, stopping at nothing to avenge his brother. If he hadn't died, I genuinely would have wanted him at my side.
I practically ran to the operating room. I pushed through the double doors and found Quinn sitting motionless on the surgical table, eyes blank and staring.
I ordered Harrison to wait outside and approached Quinn alone.
He didn't salute or acknowledge me the way a newly converted unit was supposed to.
I figured it was probably just a system lag from the surgery.
I lifted Quinn's arms and inspected them carefully. They'd been replaced with brand-new mechanical appendages, wrapped in a layer of synthetic skin so realistic it was virtually indistinguishable from human flesh.
I traced the palm of his hand and remembered the two different numbers I'd once seen inked there.
I let out a short, delighted laugh. "Quinn, you sly devil. You came through this game twice. We really do have a connection, don't we? The man you wanted dead slept right beside you night after night, and you never knew. You even handed me the evidence—handed me the key that could have saved your life. I only wish you were still alive. The expression on your face when you found out the truth would have been magnificent."
Then I remembered the roster I'd picked up from the faculty office, and I laughed again.
"Unit 865. Unit 866. Quinn. Quentin. How could I have forgotten? The most popular pair of twins from the previous cycle. Handsome, brilliant, strong. You two pulled in so many viewers, we might not have been able to host another competition for years without you. Speaking of which, Quinn—would you like to see your brother? I could take you to him, you know."
Quinn sat perfectly still on the operating table, staring at me with vacant, unblinking eyes.
I frowned. Something wasn't right.
His reaction looked like only the body had been converted. The brain encoding hadn't been completed yet.
I reached for a scalpel, fully intending to pry open his skull and check the neural interface.
That was when the operating room doors slammed open with a resounding crash.
Harrison stood in the doorway, one hand gripping the hand of a small girl, striding in rapidly.
"Master, emergency. The system has detected a large number of police vehicles converging on our base. I've already initiated Level One Evacuation Protocol. You must leave immediately."
I stared at him in disbelief. "How is that possible? The evidence was destroyed."
The words had barely left my mouth when a white flash went off inside my brain. I spun around and locked eyes with Quinn.
From this angle, I could see Quinn staring directly at me.
A red light was blinking in his right eye.
I laughed, but there was no humor in it. "You son of a bitch. You had a backup plan all along."
I grabbed the scalpel, stalked over to Quinn, and drove the blade into his eye socket. I twisted and pulled, extracting the eyeball.
It was a prosthetic. And embedded inside it, I found what I was looking for—a pinhole camera, still warm from operation.
His eyes hadn't shown any red light before the surgery. Which meant the camera had been dormant, activated only when we began modifying his body.
The device had been transmitting real-time data—including our location—straight to the police.
I threw the scalpel across the room in a fury. I pointed at Quinn and snarled at Harrison: "Get everyone out immediately. Take this one with you. Along with Level One, activate the Emergency Contingency as well."
Harrison responded without a flicker of expression. "Yes, Master."
Then I crouched down to address the little girl beside him. "Lucy. Uncle Alex has run into some trouble and can't take care of you right now. From now on, you need to listen to Uncle Harrison. Don't run off, understand? The world outside is full of monsters who eat people. Only Uncle Harrison will protect you with his life."
Lucy nodded, her small face solemn and earnest. "Lucy understands. I'll be good so Uncle doesn't worry."
She stepped forward and wrapped her thin arms around my neck, reluctant to let go. "I'll miss you."
My eyes stung. I pressed my lips to her forehead and held them there. "Lucy. The person in this world I've wronged the most is you. If we ever meet again, I'll give you everything—the best of everything."
Harrison's voice cut in, level and efficient. "Time is running short, Master. I need to get them out."
I let out a breath and nodded. "Go."
Harrison led Quinn and Lucy out through the emergency exit.
The little girl had never experienced a parting like this. She cried as she walked, turning back to look at me every few steps, her small figure receding down the corridor.
Watching her go, something torn and complicated twisted in my chest.
6
That girl was the daughter of the blind man I had struck and killed with my car.
He couldn't see. He never knew it was me behind the wheel.
On his deathbed, his hand had found mine, and with his last breath, he'd entrusted her to my care.
After he died, I honored his dying wish. I adopted his daughter.
I kept her by my side from that day forward, raising her as if she were my own flesh and blood.
Parting with her now—if anyone thought it didn't tear me apart, they were lying.
And what hurt nearly as much was watching the base I'd built brick by brick, the empire I'd poured everything into, collapse like a sandcastle in the tide.
I sat in the empty operating room and waited for the police.
When they came for me, I offered no resistance. I went quietly, like a man walking to an appointment he'd long known about.
I was imprisoned, tried, and convicted.
Given the scale and nature of my crimes, the verdict was inevitable—death.
When the sentence was read, I barely reacted.
This body was failing anyway. The cancer had spread far past the point of any cure.
In the instant I breathed my last, the world fell into absolute silence.
My body was swallowed by flames and reduced to gray ash.
It was Harrison who came to collect what remained of me.
Beside him stood Quinn, and beside Quinn, Lucy.
Harrison opened the urn and extracted a single shard of bone.
Then he scattered the rest into the open sea.
Lucy held his hand and looked up at him with wide, earnest eyes. "Uncle Harrison, will Uncle Alex ever come back?"
Harrison's face, as always, betrayed nothing. "He's dead. He won't come back."
Lucy's face crumbled. She burst into tears.
Harrison took her hand and led Quinn away at an unhurried pace.
— Many years later.
At the edge of an overgrown, weed-choked expanse of wasteland, a figure appeared.
A man in a black suit, wearing a rabbit mask stained with dried blood.
At his side walked a woman with delicate features and a poised, graceful bearing.
She stretched her arms above her head luxuriantly. "Harrison, what do you think of this place?"
Harrison's face remained blank. "Whatever the master likes."
The woman gave a clear, ringing laugh. "Harrison, how many times do I have to tell you—don't call me master. Call me Lucy."
Harrison, still expressionless: "Understood, Lucy."
The woman reached up and stroked his chin in satisfaction. "Good boy."
Then she glanced over her shoulder. "Quinn, Quentin—what do you think of this spot?"
Behind her, two identical men had materialized from the shadows, both wearing rabbit masks stained with blood.
They spoke in flat, practiced unison. "Not bad."
The woman threw her arms up in triumph. "Perfect! Then this is our new base! Once it's built, we'll continue developing the Button Game—wait, no. The Button Game got exposed. We need a new name."
She studied the masks on their faces, then clapped once—a sharp, decisive sound. "We'll call it the Crazy Rabbit Makeover Project! To make this world a better place. Survival of the fittest. Let those with value live on forever, until the day they no longer wish to live. How does that sound?"
The words had barely left her lips when shadows began to stir in the surrounding woods. Figures emerged from the underbrush like phantoms—dozens of them, hundreds maybe—materializing from every direction until they ringed the woman at the center.
Men and women, young and old.
Their eyes were vacant. Their smiles were cold. And every single one of them wore a rabbit mask stained with blood.