It was probably going to take the entire 45 minutes for everyone to arrive, the steady trickle of people into the lobby constant but slow.

“So how did you find out about this game?” I asked V. He gave a distant look.

“My family has participated for a few generations. The last person who attended was my grandfather. The advantages we gained have all but dried up now, though.”

“Wait, you kept the… advantages? Like skills and stuff? Like what the shops sell?”

“Yes. We passed down a martial art— the Drunken Fist— as well as enhanced stats that gave our members an advantage in the games.”

I frowned at that.

“But why go through all that effort just to win games like these? I mean, the increased stats are cool and all. In medieval times, you could’ve been like a warlord or renowned Knight with it, but it can’t be worth much in the modern day.” I asked.

V looked at me sideways.

“There are two or three types of purchases from the games, depending on who you ask. There are Upgrades or Knowledge— things like martial schools or point bonuses for yourself. Then, there are consumables. Upgrades are used immediately, most of the time. But consumables…” He trailed off.

“Ah, you can take them out of the game? So by taking stuff out with you, you’re able to make a profit…?”

“A profit? You spend your tokens properly and you can make a country when you get out.” V said. “If you get out.”

“Game name: Marco Polo.” The buzzing voice spoke up again. “The rules of the game are simple. The monster cannot see or smell you. It can, however, feel, hear, and taste you. Each time you call out Marco, you will gain a token. If you call Marco and imprison the monster, you will gain 100 tokens. The same person cannot call Marco consecutively. The game ends when the monster is imprisoned or when 46 players remain. The cost to exit this game is one token. Good luck.”

Murmuring whispers were picking up around the game’s stage. It was another monster.

“I thought you said it was a kind of tag.” Willie said from the other side of V, leaning forward and looking at the black box. The inside of it was blocked by thick iron bars that rose to the ceiling, and it was completely filled with shadow. There was no way to see what was inside of it.

The parking lot was filled with whispered murmurings, but no one stepped up to start the game.

“It is a kind of tag. The kind where you don’t want to get tagged.” V said, and my eyes widened at the realization.

I played Marco Polo as a kid— it was a game you often played in the pool. The person that was it closed their eyes, and would call out Marco. Everyone else ran away, replying Polo.

So this would be similar, except, if the Marco got you… you would probably die.

On the other hand, every time you called out, you would get points.

“Could we kite it?” I asked.

“Kite it?” V replied.

“Like if we head to opposite edges of the stage, we could call the monster back and forth between us and have plenty of time to call again before the monster rotates.”

“We would have to call it a hundred times before we made up the same points we would get from just finishing a round of the game.” V said. “Its not so simple. The game seems to encourage kiting the monster at first glance, but the real goal of the game is to score the boss into the cage.”

V analyzed quickly.

“So what you’re saying is… this is actually player versus player?” Willie replied.

V nodded.

“No, it shouldn’t be player versus player. We all win if we get the monster back in the box, right? We can have this game over in a flash.” I said.

“Marco!” Someone shouted.

I looked to the location of the voice. It was the girl with the tattoo— she stepped forward, over the white lines demarcating the edge of the game.

Her eyes glazed over as she stared at an invisible interface— a screen only she could see, presumably checking to see if the token count actually went up.

“Marco, marco, marco—“ Her shouting stopped as the iron bars around the box fell to the ground with the sound of an uncoiling chain. A deep growl came out of the box as a monstrosity stepped out.

It was a mountain of muscle and brown fur, a long head like a moose’s extending from out of the box. The skin on its head clung tight to its skull, revealing the shape of the bone even as its mouth opened to drool on the ground. A huge, muscled tongue coiled out more than a foot to taste the air, covered in barbs like a lions.

It had no eyes. Not even sockets. You could see where they were in the skull, the small depressions formed underneath the taut skin adhering to what counted as a face, but there was nothing there. Huge, bat like ears sat on the back of its head, twitching directionally towards any source of sound, and gigantic antlers hung from its head.

It looked like they were seasonal. They were twisted, branching things like a deers, and much the same, they were still strung with flesh that hung loose from them. One gigantic arm trundled out of the box, followed by a second, each like a great apes but as wide around as an adult man, ending in four talons instead of fingers, and it twisted, its head towards the girl who had called Marco.

Finally, its mouth opened fully, revealing row after row of black, sharpened teeth, and it charged at the girl, who began to sprint.

It only took a terrible, single moment to come to a horrible realization: the monster was faster. Far faster than any one here could be. Maybe if I had spent all of my tokens enhancing speed, I could just barely keep pace with it.

I hadn’t done that.