And it's hard to dance with a devil
on your back, so shake him off.ᐟ
(Name) is full of contradictions. She is dreamy, but decisive. Eccentric, but charming. Ambitious, but secretive. Confident, but conflicted. Gentle, but strong-willed. However, may...
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‿̩͙‿ ༺ ♡ ༻ ‿̩͙‿
24 candidates.
That was the number of people who'd passed the Third Phase inside Trick Tower after the two grueling full days and nights. They exited the tower one after another, gladly breathing in the fresh air they'd been missing inside the pipe-like structure.
With a few lackadaisical blinks of her heavy eyes, (Name) welcomed the pouring sunlight of midday with open arms. Light billowed over the land, tainting the grass and surrounding trees in a warm ambiance, and fluffy white dotted the baby blue skies like freckles upon an arm.
"Congratulations on your escape from the Trick Tower!" The fairly recognizable voice drifted around the atmosphere, drawing her fellow examinees' attention as they shifted their heads to look at the mastermind behind the Third Phase. "Now, you only need to take the Fourth and Final Phases."
Lippo raised an arm and pointed over his shoulder to a visible island. "The Fourth Phase will be held in Zevil Island over there. Please cooperate."
The examiner snapped his fingers loudly, and a bald man brought forward a ballot box on a metal carrier.
"For the next phase, you will need to draw lots!"
The applicants began questioning the examiner's statement out loud, with confusion and skepticism tainting the hinges of their voices. A general feeling of doubt easily floated around everyone's head like a flimsy cloud of understanding.
"Draw lots? For what?" Pokkle, number 53, dared to ask aloud for Lippo to hear.
A subtle glimmer of mischief clouded the examiner's slanted eyes as he raised his head high enough for the candidates to see his expression.
"It's to decide who will hunt, and who will be hunted." Lippo motioned to the ballot box with his hand. "There are 24 number cards in this box. In other words, these numbers represent all the current candidates. Now, I need you to come here and draw your number cards in the order you escaped from the tower. The first, please!"
And so, little by little, every candidate stepped forward to the ballot box and grabbed a small, numberless wooden card within it, retreating to their current position to study the newly acquired item within their grasp. The small object, rectangular, bore a pristine white front, featuring a black-framed square, while its back boasted a rich, maroon hue.
"Guys," called out Gon, shifting his body to face the witch girl and the ex-assassin as they twisted their heads to look at the mountain boy. "When he said who will hunt and who will be hunted, does he mean we have to fight each other?"
