The cultists insisted that I join them.
“You'll have fun with us," Sarah said in monotone. "You know, solving the riddles and stuff." She gazed at me, her eyes inexpressive yet given intensity by her thick, black eyeliner.
"Yeah, no thanks," I said with a forcedly casual shrug. As much as the Truthseeker's Guild might be of help to me, I needed to keep my distance. If the Combat Institute already suspected our party of knowing too much about 6E12, getting associated with the Truthseekers on top of that might be enough to get us all "disappeared." We had to walk the razor's edge between caution and action.
After an additional round of recruiting attempts, and my refusal, they conceded. Jayden stuffed all of the sliced pears into his mouth. The two cultists then made their leave.
"...You figured anything out?" Hei checked with me after they made their exit.
"I think I'm on to something. But it's too early to say."
We went to bed for the night.
The next morning, I made a visit to the Printer's Guild hall. Time to verify my hypothesis.
The Printer's Guild was based at the edge of Ring One; the guild hall was essentially a print-house. Inside, tools and sundry machine parts filled the shelves lining the walls, and the pungence of ink and oils scented the air. I met the guildmaster, Taka, by the printing press.
"Well, well, well," she said with a smirk. "If 'tis not Sophia of the Arcane Tome. What does thou seek, that thou hast come unto my presence?" She stood in one shadowy corner of the room, leaning against the wall and with her arms folded. Her mismatched eyes, one yellow and one red, glinted in the darkness.
"Morning Taka," I greeted.
If we hadn't already worked with each other to get my book printed, I'd have mistaken her for another cultist. Taka looked more like a cultist than the actual ones. She wore a dark robe with red trims, and iron skulls sat upon her shoulders as pauldrons. Her hair was a pallid blue and fashioned into princess curls. On her back was a two-handed great-sword, taller than herself. Though that wasn't saying much, considering she had the stature of a middle-schooler.
She pointed a finger at me dramatically. "Hast thou finished thy redactions of the manuscript?"
"Not yet. The second edition will be ready in about two weeks."
"Mua-ha-ha. So it shall be. Let the mortals of this forsaken town wait a while longer."
"I'm here to check the author's copy," I told her.
"Very well. Gaze upon thy work to thy heart's content."
She led me into the backroom of the print-house, where they kept all the manuscripts given to them to make prints of. Whenever anyone wanted something printed, they'd give the Printer's Guild an author's copy. Usually that would be a handwritten manuscript, and the guild would use that as the blueprint for what to print. Like homework assignments, an author's copy was marked with the author's name, as well as the date of when it was processed. The Printer's Guild kept all past authors' copies as insurance. If anyone were to claim they made a printing mistake, they'd refer back to the authors' copy. If the printed document matched the original manuscript, the printers would thus prove their innocence.
The windowless backroom, where they kept all the authors' copies, was lit by a single gas lamp. Rows of shelves, decked with folders, filled the room. Taka left me there, alone, to do my business.
So far so good. I closed the door behind her, then started hunting the shelves for the manuscript I wanted to check.
It didn't take long before I found my target: the phone-charger girl's eviction notice.
Her name was Rhea. The author's copy was submitted this winter, by Headmaster Fink, and had four pages total. Three of those were death-notices for expeditioners that lived alone, like Rhea. The last one was a notice for three expeditioners who had lived in the same house, and had all died in the Winter Challenge. Everyone received a eulogy that extolled their valiance and the Expedition Division in equal parts.
A chill crept down my spine. My theory might actually be correct.
And then I found the Expedition Division's death notices for last year's Winter Challenge. Once again, the author's copy had been submitted by Fink. This copy had just a single page reporting the deaths of three expeditioners that lived together, then all died together.
I checked if there were any notices for Spring Challenge, from three years ago. And indeed there were – four pages. Three separate death notices for expeditioners that lived alone, and one for three expeditioners that lived together. Just like this winter. And…once more, it was submitted by Fink.
Summer Challenge, four years ago. Three pages. Each reported three deaths, for nine total. Submitted by Fink.
Winter Challenge, five years ago. Six pages, all separate deaths. Submitted by Fink.
I recalled the words of the Truthseeker's tablet. His wrists are bound by human sacrifice.
Alright, alright.
I calmed myself down, before my death-grip could crinkle the papers I held.
I put away all the manuscripts I had dug up. That was enough sleuthing for now. Thankfully, I hadn't been found out. Now to make my exit.
I headed to the door. When I reached for the doorknob, the door swung open.
I let out a startled gasp. Taka, on the other side, screamed out loud.
"You scared the crap out of me!" Taka scolded. "Thou…um, thou mustn't scare me like that!"
"I mean, same to you," I sighed. My heart had almost skipped a beat. I gave her a headpat to calm her down.
"A-anyways," she said. "Did yo– uh, didst thou find that which thou seekest?"
"Yup," I said. "Thanks for your hand in our partnership. I'll update you once the second edition is ready."
And with that, I left the print-house. Bright daylight dazzled me as I returned to the streets outside.
OK, OK, I think I got it figured out, this whole deal with 6E12. My logic was sound. Wait, hold on, did I do my math properly? Yes, yes I did. Alright, Sophia. Where were we again?
That was right. The human sacrifices mentioned by the tablet. I was almost certain those were the Expedition Division members that died. And, and…
I took out my team notebook and penned a message, "Hei, I'll see you at home for dinner – Sophia"
The rest of the day was uneventful. Hei returned early from the Combat Institute at night, and we ate dinner together as planned. Afterwards, I took him into my room and closed the door. Before I shared my suspicions with anyone else, even our other teammates, I wanted to check them over with him.
"OK, I need your help," I said. "Headmaster Fink has been here for five years. How in the world is that possible?"
Hei took a seat on the edge of my bed. "Wait...what?"
"That's when she submitted her first request to the Printer's Guild. As far as I can tell."
"That isn't normal."
Both of us realized as much. In Silver, you either won, or you died. Fink obviously won, for five years straight, yet…
"...How hasn't she ranked up to Gold yet?" I asked without stating my own guess. I wanted Hei to come to a conclusion without me biasing him. Just so he could sanity-check me.
He shook his head. "That shouldn't be possible. The longest anyone lasts here is three years. And a half, at most."
"Unless…?" I asked.
He gave a dismissive nod. "I know, the Expedition Division has a high fatality rate."
We both knew that progress toward Gold depended on both the number of games you won, and also on the number of teammates that survived. The fewer survivors, the slower the progress.
"Progress this slow is unheard of," Hei pointed out. "She'd need three, even four, teammates dead after every challenge."
"Exactly," I said. "The magical number is three. I just noticed today, but deaths in the Expedition Division come in multiples of three. Think about it. Every challenge, Fink joins a team of five. Three of them die, making it so she barely progresses towards Gold. And then she survives with one other player. Someone so strong, she can win with him every time. No matter who the other three are."
Hei stared at me.
"You're kidding," he said.
By his look of shocked realization, I could tell he had come to the same conclusion as me.
The cultists insisted that I join them.
“You'll have fun with us," Sarah said in monotone. "You know, solving the riddles and stuff." She gazed at me, her eyes inexpressive yet given intensity by her thick, black eyeliner.
"Yeah, no thanks," I said with a forcedly casual shrug. As much as the Truthseeker's Guild might be of help to me, I needed to keep my distance. If the Combat Institute already suspected our party of knowing too much about 6E12, getting associated with the Truthseekers on top of that might be enough to get us all "disappeared." We had to walk the razor's edge between caution and action.
After an additional round of recruiting attempts, and my refusal, they conceded. Jayden stuffed all of the sliced pears into his mouth. The two cultists then made their leave.
"...You figured anything out?" Hei checked with me after they made their exit.
"I think I'm on to something. But it's too early to say."
We went to bed for the night.
The next morning, I made a visit to the Printer's Guild hall. Time to verify my hypothesis.
The Printer's Guild was based at the edge of Ring One; the guild hall was essentially a print-house. Inside, tools and sundry machine parts filled the shelves lining the walls, and the pungence of ink and oils scented the air. I met the guildmaster, Taka, by the printing press.
"Well, well, well," she said with a smirk. "If 'tis not Sophia of the Arcane Tome. What does thou seek, that thou hast come unto my presence?" She stood in one shadowy corner of the room, leaning against the wall and with her arms folded. Her mismatched eyes, one yellow and one red, glinted in the darkness.
"Morning Taka," I greeted.
If we hadn't already worked with each other to get my book printed, I'd have mistaken her for another cultist. Taka looked more like a cultist than the actual ones. She wore a dark robe with red trims, and iron skulls sat upon her shoulders as pauldrons. Her hair was a pallid blue and fashioned into princess curls. On her back was a two-handed great-sword, taller than herself. Though that wasn't saying much, considering she had the stature of a middle-schooler.
She pointed a finger at me dramatically. "Hast thou finished thy redactions of the manuscript?"
"Not yet. The second edition will be ready in about two weeks."
"Mua-ha-ha. So it shall be. Let the mortals of this forsaken town wait a while longer."
"I'm here to check the author's copy," I told her.
"Very well. Gaze upon thy work to thy heart's content."
She led me into the backroom of the print-house, where they kept all the manuscripts given to them to make prints of. Whenever anyone wanted something printed, they'd give the Printer's Guild an author's copy. Usually that would be a handwritten manuscript, and the guild would use that as the blueprint for what to print. Like homework assignments, an author's copy was marked with the author's name, as well as the date of when it was processed. The Printer's Guild kept all past authors' copies as insurance. If anyone were to claim they made a printing mistake, they'd refer back to the authors' copy. If the printed document matched the original manuscript, the printers would thus prove their innocence.
The windowless backroom, where they kept all the authors' copies, was lit by a single gas lamp. Rows of shelves, decked with folders, filled the room. Taka left me there, alone, to do my business.
So far so good. I closed the door behind her, then started hunting the shelves for the manuscript I wanted to check.
It didn't take long before I found my target: the phone-charger girl's eviction notice.
Her name was Rhea. The author's copy was submitted this winter, by Headmaster Fink, and had four pages total. Three of those were death-notices for expeditioners that lived alone, like Rhea. The last one was a notice for three expeditioners who had lived in the same house, and had all died in the Winter Challenge. Everyone received a eulogy that extolled their valiance and the Expedition Division in equal parts.
A chill crept down my spine. My theory might actually be correct.
And then I found the Expedition Division's death notices for last year's Winter Challenge. Once again, the author's copy had been submitted by Fink. This copy had just a single page reporting the deaths of three expeditioners that lived together, then all died together.
I checked if there were any notices for Spring Challenge, from three years ago. And indeed there were – four pages. Three separate death notices for expeditioners that lived alone, and one for three expeditioners that lived together. Just like this winter. And…once more, it was submitted by Fink.
Summer Challenge, four years ago. Three pages. Each reported three deaths, for nine total. Submitted by Fink.
Winter Challenge, five years ago. Six pages, all separate deaths. Submitted by Fink.
I recalled the words of the Truthseeker's tablet. His wrists are bound by human sacrifice.
Alright, alright.
I calmed myself down, before my death-grip could crinkle the papers I held.
I put away all the manuscripts I had dug up. That was enough sleuthing for now. Thankfully, I hadn't been found out. Now to make my exit.
I headed to the door. When I reached for the doorknob, the door swung open.
I let out a startled gasp. Taka, on the other side, screamed out loud.
"You scared the crap out of me!" Taka scolded. "Thou…um, thou mustn't scare me like that!"
"I mean, same to you," I sighed. My heart had almost skipped a beat. I gave her a headpat to calm her down.
"A-anyways," she said. "Did yo– uh, didst thou find that which thou seekest?"
"Yup," I said. "Thanks for your hand in our partnership. I'll update you once the second edition is ready."
And with that, I left the print-house. Bright daylight dazzled me as I returned to the streets outside.
OK, OK, I think I got it figured out, this whole deal with 6E12. My logic was sound. Wait, hold on, did I do my math properly? Yes, yes I did. Alright, Sophia. Where were we again?
That was right. The human sacrifices mentioned by the tablet. I was almost certain those were the Expedition Division members that died. And, and…
I took out my team notebook and penned a message, "Hei, I'll see you at home for dinner – Sophia"
The rest of the day was uneventful. Hei returned early from the Combat Institute at night, and we ate dinner together as planned. Afterwards, I took him into my room and closed the door. Before I shared my suspicions with anyone else, even our other teammates, I wanted to check them over with him.
"OK, I need your help," I said. "Headmaster Fink has been here for five years. How in the world is that possible?"
Hei took a seat on the edge of my bed. "Wait...what?"
"That's when she submitted her first request to the Printer's Guild. As far as I can tell."
"That isn't normal."
Both of us realized as much. In Silver, you either won, or you died. Fink obviously won, for five years straight, yet…
"...How hasn't she ranked up to Gold yet?" I asked without stating my own guess. I wanted Hei to come to a conclusion without me biasing him. Just so he could sanity-check me.
He shook his head. "That shouldn't be possible. The longest anyone lasts here is three years. And a half, at most."
"Unless…?" I asked.
He gave a dismissive nod. "I know, the Expedition Division has a high fatality rate."
We both knew that progress toward Gold depended on both the number of games you won, and also on the number of teammates that survived. The fewer survivors, the slower the progress.
"Progress this slow is unheard of," Hei pointed out. "She'd need three, even four, teammates dead after every challenge."
"Exactly," I said. "The magical number is three. I just noticed today, but deaths in the Expedition Division come in multiples of three. Think about it. Every challenge, Fink joins a team of five. Three of them die, making it so she barely progresses towards Gold. And then she survives with one other player. Someone so strong, she can win with him every time. No matter who the other three are."
Hei stared at me.
"You're kidding," he said.
By his look of shocked realization, I could tell he had come to the same conclusion as me.
