Alice in Borderland

Chapter 109

I watch the scenery in front of me with storm-clouded, watchful eyes, while the faint wind blows a strand of my hair into my face every now and then. The shallow waves of the neighbouring stretch of sea carry a salty breeze ashore and from my position on the roof I can see the reflections of light in the water from afar. This accommodation seems almost idyllic and I can understand what the hatter was thinking when he came up with the idea.

Lost people coming together in one place. Seeking shelter in this dark world and finding safety in this community. Courage to face these games and escape death. I always thought I was one of those people, but now I'm one of the special selection of leaders. I don't know exactly what qualifies me to be part of this elite, much less decide over a life. There are so many complicated facets to this job:

The Borderlands may be cruel and you want to choose the lesser of two evils while your own hands are bloodied. If these people have committed atrocities that are unimaginable, then as a member of the leadership you are not only voting for the fate of the other inhabitants, but also for your own advantage. Eliminating such a player before they encounter you in a game minimises the calculated risks. Still, my heart must have grown really cold after all this time for me to even think about the possibilities of my vote allocation.

I studied law before entering this world. A subject that enables the user to defend a person, no matter how guilty they may look. It was my outer shell, which I adopted for the sake of my family and my status. Of course lawyers exploit their clients, judges take bribes and prosecutors become corrupt. But I have never denied the intentions or the purpose behind the basic principle. Lawyers and judges were created to make arbitrary rulings and murders before the people illegitimate and to ensure a fair trial. A fair hearing, a fair trial. And I dare say that appearances in the leadership are keeping up appearances, but it still doesn't seem fair to me. Only very few will give weight to the facts and hearings, most act out of self-interest or impulsiveness. Shouldn't I use my neutral position and have a neutral effect?

But why should I have the privilege of being neutral? Won't I be lowering my guard against the most dangerous players in the community and revealing my former profession and some of my skills that only Chishiya can currently count on? Could my active intervention increase the other players' interest in me? Each of us is conditioned to calculate the weaknesses of those we meet, all information helps. Could I prove myself unworthy to be a part of them or question the Hatter's decision to include me?

I don't know why the Hatter saw me in such a position. Indirectly, he always prepared me for it: Private conversations, my rescue after the ten of spades game and trusting me. But because of these preparations, Aguni recognised me as a candidate for the leadership team. But I probably owe him one thing even after his death: he doesn't expect me to prove myself righteous, but to follow a moral code. At least in the beginning, before he became more and more of a stranger to me and withdrew. I liked Danma, but I wasn't under the illusion that he wouldn't succumb to the madness of his rule in the end. He was the only one who could stand up to the military squad and sleep peacefully afterwards.

I chew my thumbnail thoughtfully as I make out a figure in black clothing on the outside grounds and my eyes fix eagle-like on its movements and direction. Aguni seems to be doing one of his morning routines and has completed an athletic run around the sheltered grounds. With ambling steps, he heads for the gate to the entrance hall and must enter at any moment. I can't just make a judgement and make up my mind without knowing the facts. Instinctively, I jump to my feet and leave my observation post to get inside the hotel and climb the stairs at a faster pace. From the landing on the second floor, I recognise the new king of the beach and as I skip down the last few metres beside him, I match his direction and follow his speed.

'Aguni,' I try to get his attention and sure enough, he looks down at me with a raised eyebrow. He doesn't make a sound and walks off in the direction he's aiming with a cold expression. Somehow I have to get his attention even for a moment. 'How long was your run?'
'27 kilometres'