The Adaptive Game

"HUNTER-KILLER"

- Front Man

"Sir, after the furnaces were all unlocked, we discovered one of the locks was forced open and we found two coffins with OUR GUARDS in them, inside the furnaces..."

"That doesn't help me find out where those two players went after we THOUGHT they died."

"Well, that's not it sir. The host is dead."

"WHAT?!"

"Yes, sir. Come."

"God-damned..."

I follow the circle-masked servant into the host's sitting room. It's a mess.

"SHIT! CAN YOU HEAR ME?! SIR?"

"Sir, he's decapitated. It's been 4 hours since he was killed. There is no way he could function at this point in time."

"SHUT UP!"

"Sir, I didn't know you were this dull. I apologize."

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!"

I hold Slam's mutilated body in my hands as I look at his dismembered head a few feet away from me.

"We're gonna find those fuckers."

"How, sir?"

"They want to get out of the country. We're always watching him. He will not get out without REPRECUSSIONS!"

"Don't you mean all three of them sir?"

"YEAH! BUT PLAYER 690 SPECIFICALLY!"

"How come, sir?"

"He's the smartest one there. He has ALWAYS given me shit. He's given all of us shit and we didn't know it."

"So then what sir?"

"WE SQUEEZE HIM UNTIL HE POPS! And stop calling me sir. I have a name, you know."

"You never told me it, sir."

"It's... Piston. They called me Agent Piston back in the days."

"Got it, Piston. We're going to engage the Hunter-Killer protocol ASAP."