It was obvious in its own way that the rules presented, despite their completeness and clarity of wording, could not cover the full depth of the system within which he found himself, since such a game, so large-scale and well-thought-out, inevitably concealed additional mechanics, conditions and restrictions that were not brought to the surface.
Of all the possible actions that Zario could consider as a first step, the most logical and at the same time pragmatic seemed to be the creation of his own alliance, where he, using someone else's power and directing it with his will, could significantly speed up the process of eliminating competitors, but even this idea, at first glance flawless, rested on one key point that caused him internal doubt.
The second rule.
Number of players.
Five.
In a world whose dimensions, judging by the description, went beyond the usual understanding of space, such a limitation seemed not just strange, but practically absurd, since the probability of a collision between such a small number of participants in an infinitely expanding world tended to be absurd.
And then his mind, relying on his own experience and habit of looking for hidden patterns, put forward a different interpretation, according to which the concept of "player" could be tied not to objective truth, but to subjective perception, limited by what he already knew.
He saw five.
He knew five.
Therefore, the system showed him five.
"Hey, damn Lunari, tell me, are there more than five players, and is it possible that their number will increase over time?" Zario's voice, cold and demanding, cut through the space in which the fading echo of recent discoveries could still be felt, and his gaze, tense and attentive, was directed at the point where the familiar snow-white sparks were already beginning to gather.
Lunari, emerging from flashes of light, appeared almost instantly, as if the very fabric of reality was adapting to her presence, and without wasting a single moment to pause or reflect, she responded in the same even, flawlessly precise voice, devoid of any emotion.
[Yes!]
The brevity of the answer, despite its unambiguity, did not bring Zario satisfaction, since this confirmation concealed much more than just a fact, and his mind, which had already begun to build a chain of guesses, demanded specifics, precise, leaving no room for ambiguity.
"Then tell me more precisely... how many players are currently in the Death Festival?.." His voice grew harsher, saturated with hidden pressure, as if the question itself contained an order.
And the answer that came next turned out to be that very missing element.
[The current number of players is exactly 157808, including you and the other four players.]
Number. Enormous.
Almost absurd in its scale.
It instantly destroyed the game's initial perception of a limited confrontation, replacing it with a picture of a chaotic, endless conflict in which thousands, tens of thousands of participants were scattered across the world, existing in the same system, but probably never clashing directly.
And yet…
Zario didn't catch on to it.
His attention, sharp and tenacious, caught not the number, but the wording, that very detail that sounded too obvious to be accidental, and too unusual to be ignored.
"Including you and the other four players."
Why exactly so?
Why separation?
Why the accent?
The thought that arose in his mind was not a momentary flash, but rather a slow but inexorable folding of fragments into a single picture, where every word heard earlier began to take its place.
Five. They. Separate from the rest.
Zario slowly narrowed his eyes, feeling a familiar feeling rise within him—not anger, not excitement, but a cold, pure understanding that only came when he found hidden meaning behind the obvious.
"Because we're… not just players…" the thought formed almost silently, but already carried with it confidence.
And at that moment he understood.
The clue left by the Game itself was too obvious to ignore, and at the same time profound enough to change the entire perception of what was happening.
They are not equal to the rest.
They will be the beginning of something greater. A starting point. And perhaps…
Those around whom the entire Death Festival is built.
***
Then, seeing no more point in continuing the conversation, which had already given him everything he needed for a basic understanding of what was happening, Zario, casting a final, coldly appraising glance around the room, in which every detail was recorded more out of habit than out of real necessity, headed towards the only door, whose very existence hinted at the only available exit from this closed, desolate space.
His hand, lingering slightly on the worn surface, slowly pushed the door, and it, yielding with a barely audible creak, opened slightly, releasing a narrow strip of dark, cool air that immediately touched his skin, bringing with it a feeling of night - deep, still, strangely muffled.
Through the gap that had formed, his gaze slid outside, and almost instantly he caught movement, for outside the house, in the dim light, barely visible among the shadows, there were people, many silhouettes moving with a certain haste, their actions seemed organized, but at the same time devoid of chaos, as if each of them already knew their purpose.
And yet... Not a sound.
There were no footsteps, no voices, no rustling of clothes, no breathing, not even the slightest vibration of air that could accompany such movement, as if the scene itself were devoid of an auditory layer, existing only as a silent picture, detached from the usual perception of reality.
And that was what made him freeze for a split second.
Because it was impossible.
Zario, whose senses in his past life had reached absurd levels, was able to detect the smallest sounds, even the movement of insects in the dark, even while asleep, and therefore the absence of any noise, despite the obvious movement, could not be explained by external factors.
The answer was obvious. He had changed. His perception. His body. His abilities.
The realization of this did not cause either panic or irritation, only a cold, clear fixation of the fact, which immediately took its place in the overall picture, since the loss of most of the force, in the context of the new game, looked not like a defeat, but like a starting point.
And if this was the beginning, then it was only a matter of time before everything that had been lost was restored.
Zario, instantly comparing what was happening with the information he had just received, closed the door, cutting himself off from the silent picture outside, and, without wasting a second, concentrated, again calling upon Lunari, whose appearance, as before, was accompanied by a flash of snow-white sparks, softly breaking the dim atmosphere of the room.
As soon as the entity took shape before him, hanging in its usual stillness, his gaze, cold and piercing, fixed on it, and his voice, devoid of hesitation, immediately asked a question in which the direction of his thoughts was already felt.
— Is every player destined to receive one negative effect in the game?..
The answer came without the slightest delay, clear and unambiguous, as if it had been written into the very structure of the system in advance.
[BINGO! In your case, it's hearing loss.]
The words that had sounded in his mind instantly took their place in the overall picture, linking together the strange silence outside, the absence of sounds and the general feeling of distorted perception, but the next thought arose almost simultaneously, demanding clarification.
— Then why can I hear you?..
[That's because I'm your personal assistant.]
The answer, simple in its form but absurd in its essence, lingered in his mind for a moment, causing a short, almost imperceptible pause in which he, experiencing neither surprise nor denial, merely recorded the fact.
"Holy shit, of course…" the thought that arose silently did not carry any resistance, but merely acknowledged the strangeness of what was happening.
Deafness. A limitation. But not an obstacle.
His gaze became harder, more focused, because the very idea of losing his ability was not perceived by him as something final, but only as a temporary condition built into the rules.
— Tell me... is there any way I can get my hearing back?..
[Yes, of course! But for this to happen, certain conditions must be met.]
"And what kind of conditions?" Despite his outward calm, a slight tension appeared in his voice, aimed at obtaining specifics.
[Sorry, but I can't provide you with this information.]
The answer, which sounded as even as the previous ones, left no room for further questioning, since the system itself, through Lunari, had already designated the boundaries of acceptable knowledge.
And that was enough.
Zario, without showing any irritation or disappointment, merely noted the latest restriction, after which his attention finally returned to the current situation, in which the only logical step was to move forward.
Because by staying here he will get nothing.
So all he had to do was go outside.