I felt my fight-or-flight instinct fully take over my body as all thoughts of guilt about number 28's fate evaporated from my head, and my mind unconsciously decided that fighting was the best course of action.

I acted as fast as my body allowed me, rolling forward and retrieving my knife from number 28's forehead. I was so focused on surviving the danger behind me that my mind didn't even register the sickening sloshing sound that drawing a knife buried in someone's brain produced.

I landed on the other side of number 28's corpse and turned around in a feat of agility I didn't even realize I was capable of, throwing my knife at the woman's head as soon as she was within my line of sight, but my actions didn't phase the woman in the least and she had a dismissive smile on her face as she casually caught the knife when it was merely one centimeter away from burying itself in her forehead.

'I'm so screwed,' was my first thought as I watched the woman stop my attack. "So coldhearted! You could have scarred my beautiful face with this knife, you know?" The woman said as she began twirling the knife around her fingers.

I didn't reply as I stood in place with my brain going into overdrive, trying to figure out a scenario where I would walk out of this situation with all of my limbs attached.

"There is no need to be so careful of me, Mon Chéri (my dear)," the redheaded woman said with a smile. "Surely you realize you would already be dead if I wanted you to be so, oui (yes)?" she asked with the same smile still painted on her lips, but it felt more like the smile a cat would have after cornering a mouse.

She was right. Though I hated to admit it, this woman could kill me whenever she felt like it, and there was nothing I could do about it, and that single fact made me feel helpless, more helpless than I had ever felt in my previous life.

There were also feelings of rage, righteous rage that I, strangely enough, did not direct towards the woman standing before me, but at the fact that I walked right into this situation with my own two feet because of my carelessness.

There was disappointment in myself for being weak, for letting my pride cloud my judgment despite my weakness, for staying here even while knowing that this woman was way stronger than I am the moment I laid my eyes on her.

But despite all of these complicated emotions, I did not feel fear, and the single sentiment that overwhelmed everything else in my head was desire.

Desire for what this woman had, and I did not; power. I wanted power, enough power so that I would never find myself in a similar situation where the whims of another would decide my fate, whether it was this woman or anyone else.

My mind was in turmoil. It was a mess of complicated emotions and ideas about surviving this encounter, but I showed none of it on my face.

"What do you want?" I asked, spending a tremendous amount of effort to keep my tone even and hide my helplessness behind a neutral expression. "If you want the supplies, then take them," I added, hoping to get her talking until an opportunity to dash away from here would present itself.

"Ruthless and calculative! You are becoming more interesting with every passing second!" The redhead said with a meaningful look on her face. "But no, I don't want these supplies," she added with a dismissive look as she turned to look at number 28's bag.

"Do you know who wanted, no, needed these supplies?" she asked as she turned to look at number 28's corpse, pointing a hand that glowed in ominous red light at it. "Poor little Aubrey here needed them!" she said as a tendril of blood flowed out of number 28 forehead, entering her mouth.

'Trying to toy with me? Good. That should buy me some time, at least.' I became considerably calmer as I took the chance to check her status.

Name: ??

Age: ??

Race: Human

Bloodline: ??

Parameters:

Strength: ??

Agility: ??

Endurance: ??

Intelligence: ??

Energy: ??

Overall Evaluation: ??

'Well, shit.' I cursed inside my head at her blurred status screen, but at least I finally got a good look at the woman's face when I tried to read her stats.

The redhead's most distinctive feature was definitely her soft long hair. She had a beautiful oval face with big blue eyes and a small nose. Overall, I could only describe her countenance as delicate and beautiful, but the dangerous smile she wore told a completely different story that had nothing to do with delicacy.

"You see, Aubrey here came to the greed games with his own free will," she explained as her eyes began glowing, in the same manner her hand did when she drew a sliver of blood for number 28.

'Think! What do you have right now that could save your life?' I urged myself as I listened to the woman speak. "He went out of his way to ask about places where people that no one cared about would go missing," she added with mocked grief in her tone.

"His little sister, the only family he had in this world, contracted an incurable illness from ingesting too much polluted sustenance," she stated as a bloody mirror formed beside her, showing number 28's memory of his sister.

'The badges! But I don't know how to use them, and the announcer only said that they would give an extra life with no further explanations.' That was my first thought.

"The news of his sister's sickness devastated poor Aubrey, but he still had hope as he had heard about the greed games from some shady information broker at that time," she added as she turned to look at me with wrapt attention, searching for a reaction.

'But for all I know, these badges could be a scam or a sick joke of some sort. I really don't want to rely on them.' I did not give the redhead the reaction she was looking for as I had already thought of several similar scenarios about number 28's story, but I still killed him all the same.

Intuitive Aptitude's last drawback was overthinking, and that unfortunately applied to killing as well. I had murdered number 28, fully knowing that Aubrey could be someone's brother or child, etc. And I did it because he had something I needed.

I will not make excuses about it. Did I enjoy killing the poor bastard? No. Did I want to kill the poor bastard? Also, no, but I don't regret it as I did it to survive, and I will do it again if that's what it takes.

I'm not wasting my second chance at life out of sympathy, and I sure as hell am not going to waste my time lamenting what-ifs either.

"So?" I asked with a blank expression, and redhead's smiling look froze, only for her to chuckle after a second, clapping her hands in amusement.

"You really are intriguing. Tu es passé (You pass)," the redhead said with an amused smile. "I'll even give you a tip as a farewell gift," she said as she waved her hands, causing a red aura to shoot in my direction as she did.

I tried to dodge, but the aura reached me before I could do anything, and I felt my blood go wild as my body stiffened, becoming unable to move a single muscle.

"If you find yourself in a situation you don't want to be in..." the redhead remarked playfully as several slivers of blood came out of number 28's body, picking up his bag and shoving it in one of my hands that moved on its own to receive the damned thing against my will.

"You only need to crush a number badge, but make sure not to crush your own as that would instantly kill you," she said as she began rummaging through my pockets, only to stop with a satisfied smile as she took out number 121's badge and put in my other hand.

"The badge will also activate itself and fix you up if you sustain enough damage to die, but there are ways to work around that, so don't rely on them too much," she explained, and I did not miss the mockery in her voice as she was doing just that.

"My name is Demira, and I will be in touch, if you manage to survive the games, that is," the redhead introduced herself as she held my hand that was carrying number 121's badge.

"Adieu mon chéri (Farewell, my dear)," she concluded as she forced me to crush the badge in my hand.

...

"Interesting," said a large, bulking man who spoke in fluent English, tinged with a slight African accent as he sat on a luxurious leather chair, sipping whisky and gazing on a gigantic monitor that showed multiple greed games contestants.

The dim lighting of the room shrouded the man's appearance in shadows. But an observant eye could still discern some of his more distinctive features.

The first thing anyone would notice about this man other than his bulking frame is his right prosthetic arm that looked at least two times bigger than his left one, with several metallic protrusions coming out of it.

"Who is this woman, Aloka?" the man spoke in a calm tone as he turned around to look at one of the luxurious room's corners that had no one there. "She looks familiar," he added.

"She's one of Aesthetica's subordinates," replied a feminine voice as a dark-skinned woman appeared on top of a book shelve, where the man was looking.

"What is a subordinate of that woman doing there?" the man asked with a frown, seemingly irritated by the word; Aesthetica.

"I Don't know for sure, but I would imagine she's doing the same thing you sent Flatliner to do; scout talent," Aloka replied with a shrug of her shoulders.

"Hmm, if Aesthetica's subordinates find this man interesting, then there has to be more about him than meets the eyes," the man reasoned with an intrigued look.

"Contact Flatliner and instruct her to get a feel for this...," the man said as he retrieved a stack of papers, trailing at the end of his sentence as he began browsing through them. "This Kaden Solomon," he concluded with a nod, putting away the papers and slumping back in his seat.

"On it," Aloka replied, disappearing with a gesture of her hand while leaving no trace behind.