Standing at the exit of the game house, Rita suddenly felt a sharp wave of unease.

In her current state, she never ignored such feelings. Instead of slipping through the shadow world as usual, she moved to the window, peering out through the whale's eye to study the nearby cloud houses closest to the floating rocks.

Behind her, the waves coiled into the faint shape of a ship's helm. The spokes weren't even fully formed before she vanished.

She blinked across space, landing on one of the rocks she had tagged during her time-stop earlier. Just as she arrived, a cloud whale drifted past, its open mouth facing her position. The instant her feet hit the stone, Rita activated [Flash Step] and appeared inside the whale's cloud home.

A heartbeat later, shadows, bone blades, and scarlet slashes struck the exact spot where she had been standing.

At the entrance of the new game house, Rita leaned slightly back, meeting the eyes of Maple Syrup, Mistblade, and Wither Monarch as they appeared. "Aba Aba, Aba?" Really? You three have nothing better to do? Two demon kings and an abyssal lord ambushing one nightmare player—is that supposed to be dignified?

Mistblade entered first, landing lightly and sheathing her blade in one smooth motion. She smiled at BS Rita, voice honeyed. "Last time we cared too much about our pride, and you grew stronger because of it. We don't intend to repeat that mistake."

Her tone was so warm, so casual, as if she hadn't just tried to slice Rita into ribbons seconds ago.

Maple Syrup and Wither Monarch followed her in. All three were the type who valued efficiency; even as they approached the rule board, their conversation continued.

Wither Monarch, cold and sinister as always, tried to make his voice sound less like a graveyard whisper. "Join Lania Kaia," he said. "You'll share equal standing with me, Mistblade, and Maple Syrup."

If this had been before, when Rita could only Aba her way through, she would've stayed silent or given a polite diplomatic jab like: Join BlueStar instead, and you can have equal standing with me.

But not now. Not with the little seahorse possessing her tongue.

Rita tilted her head. "Aba Aba?" So, what's this team called then?

Wither Monarch froze, clearly not prepared for that.

Mistblade, however, caught her wavelength immediately. "It could be called A Good Attitude Determines the Life of an Undead."

Rita blinked. "Ah? Aba?" Oh? How's that?

Mistblade smiled. "Every time we invade a world and it gets tough, he tells that world's ruler this exact line."

Maple Syrup, who had been maintaining a sullen silence since entering, finally muttered, "The players listed in that line get updated in real time depending on who's present."

Mistblade added, "Yes, and it changes depending on the group. If Pine Bloom were here, he'd replace Maple Syrup's name with hers."

Rita nodded slowly. "...Aba." I see. So everyone's equal, but Wither Monarch's equality comes first, huh?

The four of them stood before the rule board, conversing like old friends. Anyone walking in would've thought this was a friendly reunion.

Game House 814: It Can't Be You

[Players: 4]

[There are 20 rounds. Each round, players must identify which creature corresponds to the quote shown on the card.]

[You have 30 seconds per question. Overtime counts as incorrect.]

[All answers will only involve the players seated at your table.]

[The player with the highest accuracy will gain or spend one World Graveyard according to their personal game rules.]

[The player with the lowest accuracy will face a 10-minute penalty, during which they cannot enter any game house.]

The layout was similar to Pull-Ring Bomb: three round tables inside, each presided over by a figure in a black cloak. Four sofa chairs surrounded each table for the players.

Rita chose the table with the shortest line and stepped into the glowing waiting zone.

As she expected, Maple Syrup, Mistblade, and Wither Monarch didn't queue behind her. They each went to separate tables, deliberately keeping distance.

Then, unexpectedly, Maple Syrup left her own queue and walked over to stand directly behind Rita.

Rita gave her a puzzled glance. What was she doing?

She followed Maple Syrup's line of sight and noticed that at the middle table, the game moderator had just pulled back their hood.

Long black hair, smooth and straight, framed a calm, handsome face.

Was there something special about that?

Catching Rita's confused expression, Maple Syrup's own eyes darkened with disbelief. "You don't recognize him?"

Rita tilted her head, studying the long black hair. It did look familiar somehow.

She conjured [Cat's Ideal] in her hand, gripping the translucent helm and twisting it left and right under Maple Syrup's weary stare. "Aba?" This one?

Maple Syrup sighed. "…Yes."

Rita dismissed the helm and shook her head.

She had never seen Captain's true face before. The first time she'd heard his name was during the Chaotic Blocks voting. The first time she'd seen a possible version of him was in the third-year demon city ruins—a masked figure studying a sea chart.

Two glances and she'd lost interest. Now she simply looked away again, watching other players' rounds instead.

Maple Syrup: "..." Unbelievable.

But then her expression changed. Her brows knit, eyes narrowing as she stared at BS Rita. Did she seriously not realize that Lania Kaia's ability to invade BlueStar so quickly was thanks to Captain's hand?

Even if Rita was her Nemesis, Maple Syrup thought, she could still recruit her into the "Captain Cookie Plan."

"You can't tell me," she said quietly, "you still don't know, right?"

Rita: ???

Before she could ask, explosions echoed outside the whale house, followed by shouting and several unfamiliar names. Whatever happened, it was big enough that most of the waiting players rushed to the window to watch, leaving only two others in line.

Two very familiar others—Tiger-Ear Quex and Winter Sea, Frenzied Shark.

Rita followed them to the table, taking the last seat, immediately aware of the way both looked at her—like they were watching a lunatic.

They'd heard her Abaaing. Everyone in line had.

Rita was long past caring. Her haters had been giving her that exact look since forever.

As Maple Syrup sat, the moderator at the next table pulled their hood back up, face vanishing under a veil of shadow.

The one at their own table, however, removed the hood entirely. Black hair fell like ink down their shoulders, revealing that same handsome, smiling face.

Captain.

Maple Syrup's expression turned to stone. The air around her grew colder, darker.

Rita had never seen her like this—pure hatred, heavy and suffocating.

Even during the team match days ago, Maple Syrup's rage had been alive, bright, burning. She might have hated Rita, but she had never despised her.

Looking at her now, Rita was certain—if Maple Syrup ever got her hands on [The End of the Story], she would use it on Captain without hesitation, even knowing the curse that would follow.

Rita's curiosity sharpened. What had Maple Syrup meant by "You still don't know"?

But before she could ask, the start light on the table flared, and the game began.

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