Faced with Pine Bloom's absolutely idiotic guess, Rita could only roar her despair to the heavens.

"Aba!!" She shouted, chopping her right hand down against her left palm with enough force to sting. "Aba!!" It wasn't a theft skill, for crying out loud—it was a deprivation-type skill, similar to Mojie's [Low-Risk Investment]!

She jabbed two fingers at her own eyes. "Aba—!" Look! What am I doing here? What do I need to do before I can do that?!

"Aba?! Aba!!" Pine Bloom, move your pig brain! I've made it perfectly clear!

The entire house rang with her frenzied Aba cries.

Pine Bloom took a long, deliberate breath and told herself not to get angry. Once BS Rita snapped out of this fit, surely she'd look back and regret everything.

At the other end of the room, waiting for their turn, Crab leaned toward Mistblade. "Are you going to go that crazy next round and tell me to move my pig brain too?"

Mistblade, chin propped on her hand, watched BS Rita's manic performance with a faint smile. She was pretty sure the girl had already forgotten she was speaking in "Aba."

Without looking away, she answered, "When I was at Rank Nineteen, you and your little seahorse were still grazing on seaweed back in Marmang."

Crab muttered, "Okay, not that long ago."

...

When the agonizing round finally ended, and Crab had to be physically restrained by the barrier from lunging across to strangle Mistblade, Rita wiped sweat from her brow and collected her fourth mahjong tile from the game master.

All thanks to [Let It Die]. Pine Bloom had only guessed one question right—but by sheer dumb luck, it happened to be the correct one.

They'd missed one as well, though, and the loss was settled when they claimed their reward.

Fortunately, it was still within her blessed-luck window. The only thing she lost was [Balanced Nutrition]—a minor skill that must have just scraped into her top fifty. She hadn't been in the Divine Game long; she didn't even have that many high-level abilities yet.

But the way Pine Bloom was staring at her now—expression unreadable, eyes sharp and strange—made Rita uneasy.

She didn't ask. No point. There'd be no honest answer. She turned and strode toward the exit; every second wasted was a second less of fortune.

Yet Pine Bloom followed her again, voice carrying something unplaceable—half taunt, half invitation. "Do you know which skill I lost?"

Rita didn't slow, only shook her head as an answer.

Just as she was about to vanish into the shadow realm, Pine Bloom spoke quickly. "Tell me how you got that luck of yours, and I'll tell you what I lost. You'll want to know."

Rita stopped.

Pine Bloom turned to face her, meeting her eyes. "So you're interested?" she said softly. "Alright then. For good faith—I lost a skill that can make the target's next ranking or score drop by exactly one percent. Just like you guessed, it can affect the final Divine Game standings at settlement."

Rita lowered her gaze, hiding the jolt of surprise—and the quiet dread—in her eyes.

"So the Divine Game rankings really do matter that much to you," Pine Bloom murmured. There was no regret in her tone, just a faint amusement. "Your turn. That all-powerful luck—where did it come from?"

Rita didn't dodge. "Aba," she said flatly. Personal match reward. I chose the skill from Autumn Deer's divine relic.

No lies there. [Let It Die] really had come from the personal match reward, and it really had been the relic skill from Autumn Deer.

Pine Bloom's expression turned thoughtful. She didn't press further, and Rita didn't wait around.

This state of luck wouldn't last forever. She had maybe two hours, and she needed to gather all fourteen tiles before it ended. Maybe—just maybe—she could go straight to a winning hand.

By the time she stepped into the next game house, Pine Bloom was gone. Oddly enough, Rita felt a little disappointed.

The new house was the largest she'd entered so far.

Towering before her were 23,182 transparent cubes—exactly that number, as the rules clearly stated. Inside each cube lived a palm-sized creature. Just walking a few steps, she saw sharks, owls, moon foxes… but none she recognized. Every face was a stranger.

Each tiny creature carried a soul copied from the Divine Game's players.

That was the challenge of this game—"Another Me."

Players had to find the version of themselves among the thousands of replicas.

More precisely: the version of themselves that had lived for years inside the "Card Swap" world before regaining their memories.

A self with a different life.

Find them.

From among 23,182 shells, find yourself.

Whether you love them or loathe them, as long as you can recognize yourself, you can find them.

At the bottom of the rule board were three warm "reminders":

First: No skill can penetrate the transparent boxes.

Second: To your "other self," your face will appear distorted and unfamiliar—your voice, body, and features all altered. To them, this game feels like a real dream. They've been told someone is hunting for them, and instinct drives them to hide.

Third: The last line was veiled in mist—hidden from native Arisentna eyes. It read: You only have three chances to identify your counterpart. If you fail all three times, you will lose all memories of the Card Swap world once you leave.

Was the memory of Arisentna precious?

Of course it was.

The house was huge, every corner already occupied by players, all of them slumped in deep thought, looking as if the weight of existence had fallen squarely on their shoulders.

Rita took a slow look around, assessing layout and angles, then adjusted her position toward the center.

It was a brutal task.

Even for the luckiest person alive, finding herself among twenty-three thousand boxes in three tries seemed impossible.

But in another sense—it wasn't.

She stopped at the exact center of the room.

The barista behind the counter—a curly-haired woman sipping coffee—lifted her gaze.

A silvery crown of moonlight flared to life on Rita's forehead.

[Lightchaser Moment]!

The tiny Lightchaser fairy appeared in her open palm, arms crossed, looking as grumpy as ever.

Rita raised the miniature Lightchaser high and shouted coldly, "AbaAba, ah, Aba! Aba!" Moonlight Marsh Rita! Your teacher is in my hand! If you don't come out, she's going to forget you forever!

"Aba!" I'm counting to three! If you don't show yourself, I'll cast Total Oblivion!

"Ah—Ba!" Three—!

The Lightchaser fairy: "..."

The barista: "..."

In the dark corners of the house, several other players peeked out from behind their cubes, bewildered.

Wasn't that… BS Rita?

Even she bullied herself now? Was there no line this woman wouldn't cross?

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