Kaiji frowned back knowingly, looking more agitated. The issue here wasn't that he was being incredibly presumptuous and shallow, it was that Usopp didn't get it. He couldn't really hold it against the young pirate, but it was kind of frustrating to be questioned like that. "You've never seen it happen, have you?" he snapped mildly. Kaiji knew at least one other person in the world who had an obscene amount of money and loved to spend it on bizarre and cruel things like this for no other reason but to see it happen. It wasn't too farfetched to believe that there might be two or more people in the world like this.
"I can't explain the giant leeches and two-headed dog people and whatever other crazy shit is crawling around," he admitted, "that's all just part of it anyway." An integral part of existing here, dismissed casually as part of something large and largely pointless. Kaiji's logic truly was flawless. "No matter what the details are, there's got to be a trick to it."
Since when was Kaiji the optimistic one here?
It was true, though - if this was a game, there had to be a way to win even if one side was blatantly cheating or seemed to have the upper hand. And, from the looks and sounds of things, if the patients won in the end, they likely had much to gain from it. The odds were stacked against them, but he knew that their efforts would pay off if only they could find the right solution. How? Who knew? Did it matter? The game theory worked out perfectly in Kaiji's head, so much so that he considered it irrefutable.
"There's always a solution," he said firmly, "It might be next to impossible to find, but there's a trick." This was the glass staircase, the creased paper, the device feeding vital stats to his opponent. It was the missing card in the deck, the proportions of rocks, papers, and scissors. It was anything but obvious. If anything, it was totally absurd at best.
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"I can't explain the giant leeches and two-headed dog people and whatever other crazy shit is crawling around," he admitted, "that's all just part of it anyway." An integral part of existing here, dismissed casually as part of something large and largely pointless. Kaiji's logic truly was flawless. "No matter what the details are, there's got to be a trick to it."
Since when was Kaiji the optimistic one here?
It was true, though - if this was a game, there had to be a way to win even if one side was blatantly cheating or seemed to have the upper hand. And, from the looks and sounds of things, if the patients won in the end, they likely had much to gain from it. The odds were stacked against them, but he knew that their efforts would pay off if only they could find the right solution. How? Who knew? Did it matter? The game theory worked out perfectly in Kaiji's head, so much so that he considered it irrefutable.
"There's always a solution," he said firmly, "It might be next to impossible to find, but there's a trick." This was the glass staircase, the creased paper, the device feeding vital stats to his opponent. It was the missing card in the deck, the proportions of rocks, papers, and scissors. It was anything but obvious. If anything, it was totally absurd at best.