The three of them stand on the balcony, overlooking a grotesque spectacle: a giant fish monster, jaws unhinged and gaping toward the ceiling like some obscene prayer. It's the size of four rooms, maybe more. Its bulbous, fishy eyes bulge outward, glazed and stupid. Ropes and wires crisscross its bloated body, suspending it midair like a rotten puppet.
Above the creature’s rancid mouth, a series of wooden planks jut out—like diving boards over a swimming pool, if swimming pools smelled like brine. Each board supports a ghost, translucent and quivering. Noble spectators lined the surrounding ring-like balcony, split into teams, each watching with a predatory gleam in their eyes.
At the centre stage stood the host: a sensual demoness wrapped in a gown of black velvet that shimmered like oil. Curved white horns jutted from her sapphire hair. Her hair striking an uninvited chord in his memory, reminding him of the wretched blue lotus. The demoness flashes a sly grin, teeth sharp as her tone.
“Attacking Team Da!” she sings. “Move their pawn forward—aaaand uh oh! Looks like Team Da will be the first to feed the hungry fish!”
A ghost—an old woman, thin and stooped—hunches further as she accidentally locks eyes with the skewered beast. The fish’s massive, rolling eyeballs twitch, wet and awful. Her thin form quivering like a leaf as she is forced to jump into its vile mouth.
“Team Da is officially out of the game!” the demoness crows, drunk on the chaos.
“Fuck you! Fuck this!”
Team Da erupts. Furniture clatters as chairs are kicked, goblets thrown. Shen Da, the captain, lunges toward Team Fenfang in a blur of fury. Lady Fenfang, ever composed, reclines deeper into her plush seat—an amused spectator to her own provocation. Her teammates rise in sync, intercepting Shen Da mid-leap. They pull him down in a flurry claws, shredding fabric, then flesh.
No one glances at the ghost, now a mere afterthought, disappearing into the bile-dark throat of the fish.
