While voting was going on, I busied myself memorizing the surroundings. The lanes would be positioned differently next time, and getting it right again would be even more critical than today.

Honestly, I wasn’t even bothered to watch the executions that were about to take place. Unfortunately, the game was having none of that, and warped me to a spot in the crowd of Throskarts who had gathered to watch.

“Tch, figures...”

“You may be strong, but you’re not invincible, Pyromaniac,” said a nearby voice, one that belonged to the large Throskart who had competed with me for the center lane. “And you heard what the emcee said, what’s a rule without exceptions?”

“Sounds like you think I’ll be killed in my sleep or something. There’s absolutely no chance of that happening.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that, human.”

“I think you’ll find soon enough that you’re the one who ought to have been unsure at this moment.”

“Ha! We’ll see about that.”

I didn’t have to wait long after the executions for it to begin. A certain Throskart who matched my height (so he was fairly short) started going around talking to others one by one. This one had taken a 50 lane too, though unlike the big guy he had been forced to stop before fully completing it. I think he’d gotten about 40 merits or so.

Just as I was thinking I should probably go to him, he came to me. “You, human. What was your name again—lettuce?”

I shrugged, masking how that particular misnaming had actually managed to annoy me. “I don’t care what you call me. Though I am surprised that you’re deigning to speak with me.”

“Humans are lesser than scum, like all lower species,” he said, in the same sort of tone I might use to discuss a mild local weather pattern, “but as you’ve become aware, there are ways for even a member of such lower species to be a useful tool. I have decided that your ability to monopolize the center lane has qualified you as such.”

“Is that so?”

They nodded. “Even at this stage, there aren’t a high number of contestants who are capable of fighting all 200 by themselves. There’s probably about 4 or so including you in our group who can do it, and I imagine it’s about the same for most other groups.”

“And you want me to keep monopolizing it?”

“Maybe,” he said, “like I said, there are some others who could pull it off, or a small group could do it. But I would prefer those merits to be monopolized, yes. Do you know why?”

“The merit distribution curve would get a lot more complicated if more than one contestant benefits from the center line, of course. It’d mean more people in the group able to actively compete for the top spots.”

They gave another nod, a quick, rhythmic triple head-bob that seemed characteristic of them. “If you figured out that much I’m sure you’ve noticed already, but with ten voted off every day except the last, only 10 out of 100 of us are going to survive. That means the other 90 are dead already, they just don’t know it yet. And most of ‘em really don’t know it. Almost everyone who missed out on any merits today is already panicking, focusing on just seeing another day. If the ones who have what it takes to actually survive take advantage of that, we can make sure our positions remain stable and have smooth sailing through the whole round.”

“And by we, you of course mean you can just cruise through this round.”

“You know, you’re not nearly as dumb as you look.”

“By virtue of realizing that, neither are you.”

“You’ll find out more about what I’m planning when the water stations show up. For now, I’ll just say it’d really be to your disadvantage to refuse.”

“I’ll definitely keep it in mind.”

Several more hours passed, until the sun began to set. A fanfare played before the emcee spoke again. [Hello again! I hope you’re all doing well after your first day’s work. It’s my pleasure to inform you that your water is now arriving! As I mentioned before, there are four classes of amenities: A mansion, houses, tents, and water stations. The more you spend, the more amenities you’ll have for the night.]

[That’s provided you’ve done any work, of course. No freeloaders! Unless of course, you can somehow persuade someone with merits to share, like I said this morning.]

[Otherwise, better luck tomorrow!]

After a few seconds of silence, the ground shook, and a series of buildings rose from underneath it. Closest to us was the mansion, gleaming white. Was it my imagination, or did it rather look like a government building from the outside?

“Ahahahahaha...no,” I said to myself seeing the cheesy sign that topped it that was both the size of and had the aesthetic of an advertising billboard, saying that the price per night was 150 merits, “for someone in my position, that’s nothing but a honey-trap. No thanks.”

Off to the right of the mansion were five houses, each a bit smaller than the one I’d lived in with my parents before this Tower business had started. Those were 40 merits per night, and two different people could each pay the fee. It came with two meals, which actually tempted me. My stomach had already long gone past the point of growling and been directly signaling my brain its needs by making me more irritable for hours. We’d covered this aspect of concern in my nighttime training even before we started fully focusing on the 2nd Floor’s challenge, so I was well under control enough not to go nuts, attack someone, and get my ass killed, but it still sucked.

To their right was a series of tents, and on the far side was a larger series of water barrels, but before I could check them out, the Throskart from before called for anyone who was willing to hear him out to gather near the tents.

Most of them did, about 2/3rds. The rest just stood or sat around dumbly, focusing totally on trying to continue to live, except for a handful who went madly for the water stations, almost comical in their desperation.

“My name is Darril,” said the schemer, “and I gathered you here because I believe that there is no reason for us to descend into savagery like we did in the first round. In fact, I have a plan that should distribute water quite fairly.”

“As you see behind me,” he said, gesturing to the tents, “the cost of these tents is 5 merits. Then once a contestant has paid to use it, they can receive 5 glasses of water for one merit, as many times as they want. My plan is for us to exploit this system.

Anyone with at least 20 merits should pay for a tent, myself included. Then, for anyone who wants it, we’ll provide five glasses of water a night. However, everyone who takes this deal must promise something.

If we give you water, you must promise to stop others from reaching the lanes for us, by body-blocking or restraining them. As long as you don’t inflict enough pain to damage someone, it doesn’t count as an attack.

Especially, you must prevent anyone with a large number of merits who refuses to join me in providing water. I remember everyone who took some or all of the kills in the center eleven lanes, so don’t think you can duck out of this. That goes triple for the Pyromaniac.”

You’re too clever by half, my friend. You’re going to regret giving me an excuse to speak. Or will you? I half-suspect I’m about to save your ass.

“Hey, I’m on board with this,” I called out, “giving up a pittance in merits and using a tent for the night won’t be a problem. But if you’d be magnanimous enough to let me bring up something else, I’d appreciate it.”

“Something else?” Darril was a little thrown off already. “Well, if you really must, human. So, since you’ve agreed, go ahead and come over here by me. Any of you with 20 or more merits who also agrees to this should do the same.”

There was almost a spring in my step as I headed up. My heart was pounding. This was an incredible rush. I was either about to hit the jackpot for my mission, or prove my own overconfidence.

I was too damn excited.