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Amon stared at Keter. He didn’t even spare a glance at Keter’s middle finger taunting him.
What kind of trick is this?
Keter’s mind had been firmly set on throwing scissors until the very last moment, but what he actually threw was paper. This resulted in Amon, expecting scissors, choosing rock and losing. He couldn’t understand it.
Even a god cannot deceive his own mind.
And yet, Keter had done exactly that.
Keter pulled out a cigarette and placed it between his lips. Amon immediately called it out.
“We agreed on no actions other than rock-paper-scissors.”
“I’m just calming my mind. It’s related to the game.”
“...”
Even if it had only been a verbal agreement, a Transcendental’s word was absolute. If Keter had truly broken the rules, he would have died immediately, but he didn’t. He calmly lit the cigarette and took a nice, long drag.
“Ha… What’s with that face? I’ve only got one win, and you’ve got four. You’re overwhelmingly ahead.”
“…Continue the match.”
“I’ll throw scissors again.”
“...”
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