"Wahaha! Drink more! More!"
"Ugh, I think I’ve had enough…"
"Hey, you can handle more! You’re a superhuman!"
"Even superhumans have limits…"
"I don’t care! Drink! Chug it down!"
Amelia’s rowdy shouting echoed through the air.
That girl never gets tired.
She’d already drunk the most, yet she kept pouring more down her throat while tormenting Dorothee.
"Hmm…"
As I sighed, wondering how to stop Amelia’s ridiculous antics, a mumbled sound came from beside me.
Arte was nodding off, half-asleep.
"…Arte? Hey?"
"…"
No response.
Her red eyes were half-open, so she didn’t seem fully asleep, but she was clearly struggling to stay conscious.
I’d been a little worried ever since she started accepting every drink Amelia handed her without refusal, but I never expected it to come to this.
This was the first time Arte had ever shown such a defenseless side in front of us.
"Amelia."
"Huh? What?"
"I’m gonna take Arte back to the dorm. She looks exhausted."
Amelia was half-drunk herself, so asking her for help was out of the question.
A drunk person couldn’t be trusted to take care of another drunk person. Who knew what might happen?
…Then again, someone might suggest I ask Dorothee instead.
No. Absolutely not.
Dorothee didn’t seem as drunk, but the second I asked her for help, that drunkard would turn her full attention to me.
I ignored Dorothee’s pleading gaze, and she shot me a look of betrayal mixed with despair.
Not a chance.
I felt betrayed by you too today, Dorothee.
I’ll forgive you for deceiving me and using me as entertainment. Just this once.
"I’ll be back. Might take a while."
"Ooooh. See ya! C’mon, Dorothee! The crowd’s thinned out—let’s drink! Chug it!"
"A-ah, but we’re out of snacks, so maybe… don’t you think?"
"Uuuuh…? Don’t worry! There’s more!"
BOOM!
Dorothee rejoiced at the sight of the empty box, thinking she’d found an escape route—but her relief was short-lived.
She’d assumed all the ingredients were gone, but from somewhere, a flood of food came pouring out.
Dorothee had nowhere left to run.
"C’mon, eat! Eat! Tonight’s the night we eat, drink, and die!"
"Siwoo, as a man, taking a woman away like this…"
"I’ll be back!"
"Ahh, please! Please save me!"
Leaving behind Dorothee’s pained cries and Amelia’s carefree laughter, I set off down the path.
"Arte, you okay?"
"Uuhm. I’m fiiine…"
Her face was flushed red. Her steps were unsteady.
Her tongue was tangled. And worst of all, her expression was completely dazed.
No way was she fine. If I let her walk alone, she’d collapse in seconds.
"…What do I do."
"Wah!"
"Arte?!"
I was so busy trying to figure out how to get her back safely that I took my eyes off her for a second—and just as I’d feared, she tripped and fell.
"You okay?!"
"…Heh."
"Phew…"
I let out a sigh of relief.
Thank goodness. She was fine.
…Wait, hold on. Arte’s a superhuman too, right? Maybe I was worrying over nothing.
A little fall wouldn’t even leave a scratch on her.
As proof, where she had fallen, there wasn’t a single scratch—only soft, supple skin…
"WAAAAAAH!"
"…?"
I tried not to think about it…! I absolutely refused to think about it…!
The pleasant atmosphere and delicious food had pushed it to the back of my mind for a moment, but now it came rushing back.
Arte was currently in a state where, no matter where you looked, her outfit was fatally revealing.
"What do I do, what do I do…!"
Before I knew it, Arte was nodding off again.
At this rate, not only would I fail to get her back to the dorm, but we’d end up spending the night right in the middle of the street.
…There’s no other choice, right? That’s the only way.
Steel yourself, Yu Siwoo.
This is unavoidable. It’s unavoidable…
"Get on my back, Arte."
"Mmm…?"
"If we keep going like this, dawn will break. Hurry."
No matter how I thought about it, this wasn’t going to work.
Arte was so drunk that she might just fall asleep while walking.
In that case, I had no choice but to carry her myself.
"Okay…"
Arte mumbled and took a step forward.
Thump, thump.
Maybe it was because the only sound was the chirping of crickets.
I felt like the sound of Arte approaching was louder than it should have been.
"Huuu…"
Calm down, Yu Siwoo.
This is nothing.
I’m just helping Arte get home. That’s all.
I kept repeating that to myself, but the moment Arte climbed onto my back, my resolve shattered instantly.
A few months ago, when Arte had comforted me.
I had felt her touch before.
The memory of that soft sensation was still vivid—it had kept me up that night.
Since I’d already experienced it once, I thought I was somewhat prepared…
"Mmm, why aren’t we going…?"
"…We are."
Ridiculous.
I awkwardly stood up and started walking.
But the feeling was completely different from back then.
When Arte had comforted me before, she’d been wearing clothes.
I could feel the leotard against me, but at least she’d had the leotard on.
And I’d been wearing clothes too.
…But now?
Leotard? More like a bikini.
On top of that, she’d taken off her pareo and top because she was hot from drinking.
Having to carry Arte in this state was torture.
I was also in swimwear, so there was practically no barrier between us.
The only thing separating me from Arte, pressed against me, was a thin, tiny scrap of fabric.
The two soft mounds pressing against my back.
The pliant thighs I was supporting with my hands.
Even the slender arms wrapped around my neck.
…Honestly, it was agony. I could barely endure it.
I wasn’t as drunk as Amelia and Arte, but I’d still had some alcohol.
I’d never actually do it, but controlling my desires was difficult.
I needed Amelia.
But Amelia wasn’t here. It was just Arte and me, alone.
We walked slowly through the quiet night, where the only sound was the chirping of crickets, with no sign of anyone else.
"…Hey, protagonist."
"…Me?"
"Yeah."
Her sudden words caught me off guard.
Calling me "protagonist" was so out of the blue.
It was the first time she’d ever referred to me like that.
Not just that—her way of speaking had dropped all formality too.
She was quite drunk.
"I... I'm scared."
"...Scared of what?"
"What if the people I killed weren't really people at all?"
"..."
His steps came to a halt.
Right now, Arte was spilling the thoughts she had kept buried deep inside.
Yu Siwoo instinctively realized that.
"What if the people I killed... what if they were really just puppets? What if they were actually people?"
"...What are you talking about?"
"Are the puppets in this puppet show truly without free will? I've always wondered. But of course, there was no way to know."
Puppet show. Puppets.
Suddenly, the image of Arte, wildly excited inside the Ferris wheel, flashed through his mind.
Had she said something like this back then too?
That she had no intention of associating with puppets that lacked free will.
At the time, he hadn't been able to understand what she meant at all.
...But now, he felt like he was starting to grasp it.
Arte didn't see people as people. She only saw them as puppets.
He finally understood one of the reasons why she had been so cruel to the villains.
"You still think they were just puppets... But were they really?"
Arte's voice grew quieter and quieter.
She probably didn't even know what she was saying.
After all, she was drunk.
"..."
Arte seemed to have dozed off again.
After confirming that Arte, her head resting on his shoulder, was breathing evenly, he started walking again.
People and puppets.
He didn't understand why Arte was so fixated on that distinction.
In the first place, what did "people" and "puppets" even mean?
Why had she called him the protagonist?
As he walked, trying to sort through his confused thoughts, he realized they had already arrived at the villa.
Yu Siwoo laid Arte down in the villa's bedroom and fell into thought.
This conversation he had overheard by accident—it must have been her true feelings.
A glimpse of the usually composed Arte's inner turmoil, revealed unintentionally.
It seemed she divided humans into two categories: people and puppets.
...He didn't know what criteria she used to make that distinction.
But Arte became mercilessly cruel to anyone she considered a puppet.
Like when she killed Laila. Like when she brutally slaughtered the Webermenschen.
He gently stroked Arte's head as she slept deeply.
I consider Arte a friend.
So if she's struggling, I'm willing to help her as a friend.
At first, Arte's incomprehensible actions had terrified him, but not anymore.
Now that he thought about it, the longer he knew Arte, the more his fear of her faded.
She wasn't as scary as he'd thought, and she wasn't as incomprehensible as he'd thought.
Today, this unexpected event had helped him understand what Arte feared. That was lucky.
Arte judged people based on some kind of standard.
Whether they were puppets or people.
If that was the case, then he could help.
If he could find the root of why she thought that way and resolve it...
Then Arte wouldn't have to agonize over this anymore.
Even if the things Arte had already done couldn't be undone, he didn't want to see her suffer like this ever again.
"I'll help you, Arte."
Because I'm your friend.