"The ones who suffer the most are people like us!! We are the weak ones!!!"
The doctor in white lowered his head.
The scalpel hovered at his fingertips, and the blade was chilly.
Facing the screaming, extremely angry, and dying players, his voice was as light as a feather:
"…Who gave you the authority to question me here?" he asked.
The player was stunned, not knowing what he was talking about.
"Is it your incompetence, or your attitude of claiming to be human? Is your weakness my fault?" the doctor asked, "Who gave you the dignity and self-righteousness you felt when you were lying on the ground? Did the World Forum give it to you, did the audience give it to you, or did you give it to yourself?"
"——What the hell are you talking about!?"
"Do you think that everything you are condemning now represents humanity?" The doctor said in a light tone, "You think you are very confident because you questioned me - questioning me before dying, how wonderful it is, like a brave soldier who roars in anger when facing the enemy, you seem so proud and awe-inspiring."
"......?" The player was stunned.
He originally had the mentality that he could curse as much as he wanted, and at worst he would die after cursing. Anyway, this instance was a role-playing game, and no one knew his true identity. Cursing the No. 1 player face to face was a win for him, and it was more comfortable than cursing on the world forum.
He didn't think there was anything wrong with killing other players in this kind of dungeon. There was already a competitive relationship between them. He was just venting his anger. Maybe he could even attract a group of brainless spectators to agree with him. Then he would be happy even if he died.
But this person...why is he still praising him?
"But are you right to doubt?" The doctor suddenly changed his tone and asked, "Is there anyone who would really be proud of what you said?"
The player was stunned and didn't respond for a while.
"You have to face up to your own status. You are just a loser lying on the ground. You are a loser who is sacrificed." The doctor said, one sentence at a time, each word clearly:
"You think you are speaking for humanity by condemning me."
"Little do you know that there are thousands, even tens of thousands, of humans who are laughing at you right now."
"Do you think your angry condemnation can arouse their sympathy?"
"No." The doctor shook his head: "Because you are just a minority."
"W-what...? What nonsense are you talking about!" The player was puzzled.
"Because you are a minority, you cannot arouse their sympathy." The doctor said: "Your righteousness is meaningless, it is just your wailing before death."
"You're lying on the ground like a clown."
"And your angry words will not sway me in the slightest."
"Because you failed."
"If you think I'm wrong, that I'm a lackey of the organizer, that I'm a traitor to humanity, then stand up and stop me like Mizushima Kawaichi and Edward did."
"—I welcome it very much."
"But if that doesn't work, you can only do this..."
As the doctor spoke, a cold light flashed across the scalpel in his hand.
The next moment, the knife had already pierced into the throat of the person on the ground, and blood flowed out.
The player opened his eyes and seemed to want to say something, but he could no longer speak.
Blood flowed throughout the corridor, and the air seemed silent.
"… Lie on the ground and shut up."
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