"The core mechanism of gambling addiction is the hijacking of the brain's reward system, leading to a severe decline in rational thinking and a loss of impulse control."
"Humans are fundamentally hormonal creatures. When the brain's reward system is hijacked, a person simply becomes a slave to dopamine. Once it reaches that stage, sheer willpower is no longer enough to stop it."
"Therefore, the absolute best way to prevent a gambling addiction from taking root in your brain is to stay away from it entirely. Never touch it."
"Miss Faded Elf is here to remind you: gambling destroys your life and harms those around you. Kids, absolutely do not try this at home~♬" the Faded Elf stated earnestly, wagging a perfectly manicured finger at Ryoma.
"Shut up with the useless lectures and give me the money!" Ryoma roared, his eyes completely bloodshot and his expression bordering on manic. "I need more money! I'm about to win it all back!"
Faced with Ryoma's hysterical screaming, the girl calling herself the Faded Elf remained perfectly elegant.
Just as she had done countless times before, she offered a final word of advice. "Mr. Ryoma, you've already gambled away an entire year of your life. Are you absolutely sure you want to continue? You are an intelligent man. You should know that in the world of gambling, there are no winners except the house."
"I TOLD YOU, I'M ABOUT TO WIN!!!"
Ryoma slammed both hands onto the ornate desk, panting like a rabid beast. He looked as though he was fully prepared to tear the Faded Elf to pieces if she refused.
Seeing this, the Faded Elf let out a soft sigh.
She reached under the desk and lifted a heavy, metallic briefcase, setting it down with a solid thud.
With a flick of her finger, she popped the latches. The lid flipped open, revealing neat, tightly packed stacks of crisp, brand-new banknotes.
The moment Ryoma saw the cash, his breathing turned ragged and heavy.
He lunged forward to grab it, but the lid snapped shut just before his fingers could graze the money.
The mysterious girl with light purple hair rested her hand on top of the briefcase. The flawless, elegant smile remained on her face, but a deeply unsettling, unfathomable glint now danced in her eyes.
"The money in this case is enough to buy the next twenty years of your life."
"I will ask you one last time. Are you absolutely certain you want to make this exchange?"
Ryoma completely tuned out her warning. Or rather, his brain, utterly hijacked by the gambling high, had entirely stripped away his identity as an intellectual scholar. There was only one thought screaming in his mind.
Win. Win it all back!
Ryoma forcefully yanked the briefcase out from under her hand and sprinted back toward the Pachinko parlor like a madman, never once looking back.
---||---
The sun reached its peak in the sky, before slowly bleeding into the dusky hues of twilight.
The automatic doors of the Pachinko parlor slid open. Ryoma stumbled out, tripping over his own feet before collapsing onto his knees on the pavement.
The metallic briefcase slipped from his grasp, clattering open on the ground. But the neat stacks of banknotes were gone. It was completely, utterly empty.
Ryoma's face was ashen, drained of every last drop of blood.
He threw his head back, digging his fingers so deeply into his own face it looked as though he was trying to tear his skin off.
He let out a hysterical, agonizing shriek, like a trapped, cornered beast.
"AHHH! AHHHHH!!!"
"MY MONEY! MY MONEY!!!"
"IT'S ALL GONE!"
"IT'S ALL GONE!!!"
Pedestrians walking by gave him a wide berth, shooting him brief glances of disgust before hurrying on their way.
Scenes like this played out outside these parlors every single day. He was just another degenerate gambler who had bet his entire life savings and lost. He wasn't worthy of an ounce of sympathy.
Ryoma wailed on the concrete for a few minutes before his deranged mind suddenly recalled the mysterious woman in the alley.
"No... no! I still have a chance! I still have a chance!" He staggered to his feet, practically crawling toward the alleyway. "If I can just get back there... if I can just get a little more money..."
Sure enough, when he stumbled into the alley, the mysterious woman calling herself the Faded Elf was still sitting there.
Ryoma threw himself at the desk.
"Give me more! Give me more money! I'm about to win! I swear, I'm about to win!!!"
But this time, the Faded Elf didn't grant his wish. She simply spread her empty hands, a serene smile on her face. Her next words sent Ryoma's brain into a complete tailspin.
"I'm afraid I can't do that, Mr. Ryoma. You've already sold me the rest of your life. You have absolutely nothing left to trade."
Ryoma ground his teeth, his bloodshot eyes bulging from his skull. He screamed at her, "I only sold you twenty years! I'll sell you another twenty!"
Miss Faded Elf covered her mouth, giggling softly.
"There is no 'another twenty'. No human on this planet will live past the next twenty years."
"Because twenty years from now, every single human on Earth is going to die~♬"
Ryoma had absolutely no idea what the hell this crazy woman was talking about. All he understood was that she was refusing to give him more money.
The violent impulse to gamble completely obliterated whatever shred of logic remained in his mind. The agonizing humiliation of losing over and over again on the casino floor demanded that he flip the table, no matter the cost.
Just once.
Just let me win once!
If I can just hit the jackpot once, I'll stop forever!!!
A dark, malicious intent suddenly flared in the deepest, most depraved corner of his heart—a thought he never would have entertained in his right mind.
This woman has an insane amount of cash. She's thin and weak. I bet I could just force her to hand it over...
But the very second that thought crossed his mind, the mysterious woman lowered her hand. The sweet, elegant smile on her face twisted into something incredibly bizarre and distinctly mocking.
"Well then, Mr. Ryoma."
"Since I've already paid for the remaining twenty years of your life, I believe it's time we discuss the collection of those goods."
Seeing the deeply unnatural smile on her face, an involuntary shiver violently racked Ryoma's spine. It felt as though he had just been locked onto by a terrifying, inhuman predator.
A tiny fraction of his logic breached the fog of addiction. Instinctively, Ryoma took a step back.
"What are you talking about—AHHH!!!"
The moment he stepped back, the woman sitting across from him vanished into thin air. A split second later, a sharp, stinging pain erupted from his wrist.
He raised his arm. A deep, precise incision had appeared on his wrist, and bright red blood was already welling from the wound.
"According to our transaction, from this moment on, your life belongs to me."
Ryoma snapped his head toward the voice. The mysterious woman was standing right beside him. In her hand, she held a small glass vial filled with a crimson liquid—his blood.
The sudden, supernatural turn of events finally shattered Ryoma's manic state. A terrifying sense of impending doom screamed in his mind, urging him to run as far away as possible.
Unfortunately, it was far too late.
His legs tangled together, and he crashed heavily onto the dirty pavement.
And then, he witnessed a scene that completely shattered his understanding of reality.
The woman calling herself the Faded Elf casually crushed the glass vial in her hand. The crimson blood slipped through her slender fingers, instantly vaporizing into a thick, swirling cloud of blood mist before it could hit the ground.
In the blink of an eye, the blood mist completely engulfed her.
Through the dense crimson fog, Ryoma could vaguely see the silhouette inside squirming and shifting, twisting like wet clay.
When the mist finally dissipated, a man Ryoma was far too familiar with was standing in her place.
Upon seeing the man's face, Ryoma's pupils dilated to the point of tearing. Pure, unadulterated horror painted his features.
—Because the man standing before him was an absolute, mirror-perfect replica of himself!
"Y-You... you..."
Staring down at Ryoma's terrified face, "Ryoma" leaned forward and smiled.
"I gave you so many chances. Every single time I handed you that money, if you had managed to conquer your addiction even once, we could have sat down and talked about a proper partnership."
"But alas... I simply can't entrust my back to a degenerate gambling addict."
"So, as agreed, the rest of your life is now mine."
Ryoma frantically scrambled backward, kicking his legs against the pavement, his face twisted in utter panic.
"As for you... heh. Don't worry. I'm not a total monster."
"You can go harvest bananas in Africa. Once you've earned enough money to buy back the twenty years of your life you sold me, I'll gladly give your identity back."
"And rest easy. I'll take incredibly good care of your daughter."
"Oh, wait, my mistake. MEI is my daughter now."