Part 117: Interview Four - Monkey

[BGM: See No Evil]


…

Oh, well isn't this fascinating? So, is this hell? I can't imagine it to be heaven.

But no, this doesn't seem hellish enough either.

Purgatory, maybe? Then are you here to judge my sins?

...To ask me some questions?

I can't imagine you'll find my answers satisfactory. Still, you have my attention.

Did you ever genuinely like Rooster?



As much as I could genuinely like somebody, yes, I did. I mean, what wasn't to like? He helped me out when I was at a low point in life. He's reasonably good looking.

He's... charming, in a dumb sort of way. He was genuinely caring when we were together. And he's quite talented. What's not to like?

In earnest, this was a case where the problem wasn't with him, but with me. I mean, why do you think I helped host the Zodiac Trial in the first place?

Despite how I may have come across, I am not a complete sadist. And if I was... there are certainly more practical ways to achieve such ends.

Admittedly, I pushed both Brian and Rooster towards their conclusions. ...Admittedly, this wasn't the most necessary way to achieve our ends. But it really was motivated, deep down, by a desire to help Rooster.

No... 'help' is too kind a word. I was viewing Rooster as a lifelong partner. In that context, it would be advantageous to deal with his problems, and to boost his career.

Rooster might think things would've worked out without my involvement, but that's naive. The world rarely rewards talent. You need luck. And in the absence of luck, you need cruelty.



Oliver Bowen was still investigating his brother's death. Brian was investigating his father's case. As far as Rooster knew, both Dragon and Snake had testimonies that could hang him. And he was moving nowhere – fast.

With a single plan, the three figures who could go against him were taken care of, the police had to double down on their past conclusion, and Rooster was primed for stardom.

...You might think the plan too extreme. But this was something set to fix Rooster's life in a single sweep. To fix a life, you'd think the plan ought to be extreme, no?

What was your relationship with Mouse genuinely like?



I admired her, I truly did. She was quite a remarkable woman. Very intelligent, quite self aware. Charming. More than anything, I felt some sense of camaraderie with her. Like me, she was able to shut out her emotions.

Don't get me wrong, our conditions were nothing alike. But still, it was more of a connection than I had with most people.

I regret putting her through everything.

But, well, it was inevitable. I was working on a death game with one client. I needed ways to mitigate personal suspicion. I just so happened to have another client with clear ties to the first, someone who could plausibly be another target.

Someone who indicated all the traits those susceptible to hypnosis possess.

You couldn't expect me not to make use of the situation. That'd be tantamount to denying fate.

How did you get Brian to go along with the plan?



People are really simple. It didn't take much to get him dancing to my pace. So long as I took my time, I could push him to anything. It helped that he was already predisposed to come up with something like the Zodiac Trial.

He was motivated, unhinged, intelligent, and vengeful. The perfect combination.

So, a careful drip feed of information. Long conversations, careful to implant that he couldn't let my involvement get out in any way. And, once I had successfully sold him on the conspiracy, the slight offering of a solution. Making sure he knew I was on his side.

The trick was suggesting the premise before he was ready to act on it, but after he would no longer tell anybody I had suggested it. But reading his progress wasn't hard.

Once he came onboard, he actually became harder to control. When discussing the plan, he got all these unnecessary ideas, additional rules, making my 'Demon's' job harder and harder.

Overly convoluting a plan. Wonder where he got that from.

Anyways, to make it incredibly simple, Brian was a lonely, pathetic, broken kid. He didn't have direction, didn't have a place to turn to. I became his friend.

Then I became his confidant. And... once I was his confidant, the one he trusted above everyone else, it was a one-player game. And it was just a matter of time before I had my way.

Why host that second death game?



Let me make an assumption. You, like Rooster, believe I was unnecessary in my actions.

Perhaps I indulged myself a bit too much. Particularly towards the end. But my actions were not without thought. As I explained at the time, my life of control was dependant on getting rid of loose ends.

Simply put, all eleven of them had to be dealt with. Dealing with them individually would be too much of a hassle, and something open-ended like a bombing would lead to more scrutiny. It would lead to my personal survival being in question.

Blaming it on a second death game hosted by a deranged follower of Brian was well within the scope of Oliver's influence. And it gave me an out. I'd simply need to claim that the game was cutthroat, and at the last moment, I prioritized my own survival over someone else who tried to win alone.

I'd be repentant, an unwilling murderer, and many would malign me. But most would be sensible enough to recognize me as a victim, forced to act by another true villain.

Though Oliver and his pawns could control much, for things to be reliable, I needed to make their eventual jobs as easy as possible. And so, I needed the death game to be realistic. I needed the computers coded. I needed the bombs set.

And, while it may have been unnecessary to allow things to go on as long as they did, evidence that people had been participating in this death game would certainly help.

...My mistake was murdering Pig. The moment I saw her trying to hack that computer, I should've pulled out the Control Phone and blown everyone besides myself up. If I had to pinpoint it, that was the exact moment I got lost in playing my game.

But can you blame me? It was... a once-in-a-lifetime experience. And if anything went wrong, I was a button press away from solving everything. Letting my guard down was inevitable.

What were your plans with the flashdrive?



Who's to say? As much as I teased the thought, I highly doubt I would've done anything remotely as bad as the death games again. While I liked to have my fun, I was motivated by quite rational reasoning.

Point of order, abusing the flashdrive too much would inevitably lead to my downfall. Simply extorting money would probably be enough. I could live comfortably with freedom, with control. And if I did bore of things?

There are plenty of ways for the rich to entertain themselves that don't stoop to such crassness.

Really, I was a step away from a Good Ending.

What are your thoughts on how everything played out?



Well, as you can imagine, I'm none too pleased with everything. I passed away far too young. I could've lived a long, happy life.

Especially if I had that flashdrive.

What bothers me the most, I suppose, is that I shall be viewed as some evil monster when all is said and done. Not because of my actions, but because of my motivations.

If I organized that first death game not for my own reasons, but because I was head over heels with my true love, and would do anything for him, would that be better?

Had I killed Dog from some place of righteous vengeance, having become fed up with injustice, would I merit sympathy?

If every detail of the second death game was purely motivated by what would personally benefit me the most, it would be cold-blooded and calculating, but somehow understandable.

But, as it stands, I wasn't just evil. I was crazy evil. Tell me, is that a fair way to view things?

If you ask me, the man motivated by a petty sense of vengeance, the woman motivated by pure love, they are far more villainous. They clearly possess the ability to do good or evil, and yet they fall to evil.

But for someone like me, even if I can comprehend morality as a matter of fact, I could never really feel it.



In that sense, isn't it far more justifiable that I'd do such reprehensible acts?

...No, no, no. More excuses.

Truth is, there are tons of aneurotypical people in the world. 99.99999% of them live well-adjusted, decent lives. This is not an issue of how my brain works.

...I guess I am just a bad person, huh?

An odd revelation to come to so late. Had I come to this conclusion earlier, would any thing have changed?

I'm curious.

...no more questions.

I hope I answered your queries to your satisfaction.