Dazai and Fyodor didn’t hesitate for a second—they had already decided to give the antidote to the first person who stepped out of the building. It was a twisted little game they were playing, preparing traps for each other while feigning concern over the poison coursing through their veins. The kind of reckless brilliance only so-called "geniuses" would attempt.

Since Dazai had chosen Sigma, that left you with Fyodor. for him to match with you.. this was one of the things he had planned in advance. But some things were better left unsaid.

The damp chill clung to your skin, a direct result of Dazai' latest stunt. You were drenched—a lot—after a "very minor" drowning incident, and the wet fabric of your clothes clung uncomfortably to your body. Maybe choosing a white shirt hadn’t been the smartest decision after all. Yet Fyodor? He didn’t seem bothered in the slightest. In fact, he was enjoying himself. And something told you he wasn’t done having fun just yet.

You trailed behind him as he stepped into a dimly lit room—the one where the security footage played. He leaned casually against the table, fingers hovering over the controls before flicking the monitor off with an air of nonchalance. As if the sight of Dazai on the screen irritated him. He was too composed, too relaxed, considering the circumstances. He could have used the footage to track Dazai's movements, to get ahead in this dangerous little game. But instead, he had chosen ignorance.

That only meant one thing—he wasn’t worried. Not in the slightest. Even with the so-called "poison" still in his system, even while desperately seeking an escape to reach the antidote, he was at ease. Because, of course, he already knew the truth. It wasn’t poison.

Leaning further against the table, he studied you with sharp, calculating eyes. Then, with a few slow, deliberate steps, he closed the distance between you, his lips curling into a sly grin.

"You know…" he murmured, voice dripping with amusement. "We have a lot of free time right now."