Location: ???

Matsuyama sat in a hotel like room staring down at the silver computer in his lap. The sun was just starting to set as he sat in a comfy burgundy chair next to the window where the fleeting light streamed through the curtains.

Matsuyama covered his mouth, trying to stifle a laugh from what he was witnessing on the screen before him as he shifted in the brown cow patterned pajamas he wore.

"What's so funny?"

Matsuyama's head snapped up to the voice and saw a guy with shorter black hair now standing over him.

Masaru.

Unlike Matsuyama, Masaru was still fully dressed and picked at the notepad in his front shirt pocket.

"Oh nothing." Matsuyama dismissed it. "Humans are just so... interesting."

"They're intolerable."

The columnist laughed at his friend's comment. "The world is already starting to get a taste of despair and these people are just fueling it."

Masaru raised an eyebrow at that. "These people?" He tried peering over the laptop but Matsuyama shut it before he could see anything. "What have you been doing on there? What are you hiding?"

"You'll find out in due time," Matsuyama replied then stood up and stretched, "I suppose I should get ready. I've already selected sixteen participants."

"Another class?"

"Not exactly..."

Masaru huffed from the lack of information. "Whatever. It's been months and you're already about to make a scene again."

"It's the best part, honestly," Matsuyama said, "I'm sure you'll be glad to hear that our location won't be another school. I found a small secluded town that is just perfect for the occasion."

"Town?" Masaru questioned, "I thought you wanted the second game to take place at a beach. You know, to keep it original."

"Oh, it will."

That made Masaru even more confused but Matsuyama continued.

"I'll have Mr. Botan go retrieve the students soon. I already have new motives just begging to be used."

Masaru watched Matsuyama make his way to the bathroom. "Are we going to be participating as well this time?"

"Sort of," Matsuyama answered, "we'll kind of be like supervisors to make sure everything goes according to plan. But I'm sure they'll recognize who I am..." he tapped his chin. "I'm sure I'll be fine. If any student tries to attack me I'll just simply defend myself."

Matsuyama then pointed to Masaru. "And no using your detective skills to help them with the murders! That will just make it too easy. I want to see what these individuals are capable of themselves."

Masaru shoved his hands into his pockets. "Won't it be awkward for the participants to be playing and sharing a space amongst the one who trapped them in the first place?"

Matsuyama tilted his head at the question.

"I think it'll be pretty funny."

"Of course you'd think that," Masaru said, "will you be cooking for everyone like last time?"

Matsuyama frowned. "God, I hope not."

Masaru laughed a little then cleared his throat before speaking again.

"Do you miss the others?"

Matsuyama froze and a beat of silence drifted between the two.

"The alive or dead ones?"

Masaru rolled his eyes. "Both."

"Nope!" Matsuyama immediately answered and Masaru knew it was a lie. "I mean, why would I? Most of them were annoying anyways and the ones still breathing dare to start an organization to fight against us." Matsuyama scoffed at that. He can still remember the four survivor's faces when they first announced the start of their little group on live television. "How ironic. They think I'm insane for believing in these killing games but decide to model their organization that came from the result of said killing games?"

"Alright, I get it." Masaru yawned at the other guy's rant. "When are we leaving?"

"In a few—"

"Tomorrow," Masaru interrupted.

"No, in a few ho—"

"Tomorrow."

Matsuyama's eye twitched. "Fine. Tomorrow." He then entered the bathroom and shut the door behind him.

The columnist let out a deep breath before looking up into the mirror and at his hair that had gotten longer but he decided not to cut it. So far, everything seemed to be going the way he wanted but he couldn't shake that uncertain feeling.

"That stupid group," Matsuyama seethed, "so childish... why am I even nervous? This'll just make things more entertaining."

Matsuyama stared hard at his reflection almost like he was in a trance.

"You can do this. You'll be fine. There's still so many more games to be held in the future..."

"You can't back out now."

Those self words of encouragement seemed to do the trick because he felt calmer in a sense and something told him that this new killing game would indeed live up to his expectations.

Especially since it benefits both parties...