I'll show you what a real protagonist is

In the complex world of storytelling, the role of the protagonist often transcends the boundaries of good and evil, right and wrong. The term "protagonist" doesn't necessarily guarantee a character of good sense or moral irreproachability. On the contrary, it simply embodies the main thread, the central character around which the story is woven. However, the perception of this protagonist largely depends on the observer, and the same character can be interpreted in different ways, oscillating between altruism and corruption. The nuances that tint the protagonist's psyche give rise to rich, ambiguous narratives, where the complexity of the characters shapes the contours of the plot in unexpected ways. In this way, the unfolding story can reveal that the protagonist, beneath his initial aspects, hides unsuspected facets that redefine the very nature of his central role.

I took the time to explain to Saé the complexity of the situation, the gap between expectations and the reality that was unfolding before our eyes. "Saé, Ryo Kanjo is not the protagonist you were expecting," I declared, letting my words float in the suspense-filled air.

Faced with this revelation, Saé cautiously suggested, "You mean he's an anti-hero?" A plausible interpretation, but I shook my head with an enigmatic smile. "It's more complicated than that," I replied, leaving a veil of intrigue hanging. "In reality, Saé, Ryo Kanjo is the antagonist of this story." The words echoed through the cave, transforming the calm atmosphere into a full-blown enigma, where each character held roles and intentions that went beyond initial appearances.

Saé was visibly shaken by this revelation, asking me with perplexed sincerity how I could make such a claim. I took the time to explain, seeking to calm the confusion that was setting in.

"It's a subversion of expectations," I began, explaining that this narrative technique was used to surprise and captivate the audience. By introducing a character as the initial protagonist, even if he was perceived as a villain, viewers instinctively expected to follow his journey and understand his point of view. However, the twist, in which this character turns out to be the antagonist, could create significant dramatic impact.

I went on to point out how this narrative approach could generate a strong emotional impact in viewers. By challenging their expectations and making them re-evaluate everything they had understood up to that point, this unpredictable revelation enriched the story with unexpected depth.

Saé's face changed from one of incomprehension to one of surprise and shock. For a moment, I recalled our moments watching the film, when she seemed emotionally invested in Ryo Kanjo's story.

A nervous laugh escaped my lips, tinged with irony and annoyance at the ingenuity of the screenwriters. Their ability to manipulate the audience's emotions, to weave complex narratives where expectations were deliberately circumvented, aroused in me a mixture of admiration and frustration.

"Haha, those scriptwriter bastards!"

I shared with Saé a deeper reflection on the film's title, explaining how "The Deficient Piece" made sense. "Actually," I told her, "the title refers to the deficient person who isn't trying to help humanity out, and that person is Ryo." The first thirty minutes of the film had clearly shown his deliberate efforts to stop those trying to survive.

However, I pointed out that, on the other hand, we had begun to glimpse the reasons behind his actions. This nuance created a kind of empathy with the character, making the plot even more complex.

After taking time to digest this complex revelation, Saé turned to me, her eyes imbued with renewed curiosity. "Do we really know the main character?" she asked, trying to unravel the mystery surrounding the narrative.

Unfortunately, I was forced to tell her the truth. "We haven't been able to see enough of the film to determine who the real protagonist is. Or maybe I just wasn't paying attention..." Uncertainty hung in the air, and the quest to untangle the threads of this complex story was just beginning.

Saé, shifting the conversation to more pragmatic considerations, turned to me, wondering if the cave was now a safe place. I shook my head slightly to signify that safety was not guaranteed, indicating that she should check this thing she knew so well.

Approaching Ishikawa, I expressed my concern, seeking crucial information to assess the current situation in the cave. The stakes were rising, with each decision becoming a fundamental building block in our understanding of the mysterious world around us.

I turned to Ishikawa, expressing my gratitude for his leadership of the group. His desperate look prompted me to impart a few words of encouragement, seeking to instill some hope into the complex situation that enveloped us.

"Thank you, Ishikawa, for taking the reins. We need someone strong in this situation," I said, before noticing his distress. Deciding to offer him moral support, I invited him to reflect together on the riddle before us, in the hope of finding a way to solve it. Exchanging ideas and working together seemed to be the key to overcoming the challenges we faced.

Ishikawa expressed his gratitude with a simple nod, acknowledging the words of support. His imposing stature, tall and muscular, was accentuated by short hair and pale skin. His outward appearance reflected a robustness that went well with the leadership role he had taken on, a tangible strength that emanated from his presence. Circumstances demanded inner strength from all of us, and Ishikawa, with his imposing stature, seemed to embody this resilience in the face of the unknown.

Ishikawa, regaining some hope, asked me to share my theories. I explained that, according to the advice, we had to understand what was causing us to lose hit points. This idea had led me to an intriguing hypothesis: as if we were in a video game, there must surely be a feature window, a system that would reveal the details of our situation.

Intrigued by this prospect, Ishikawa decided to put everyone in the cave into action, pondering the solution to the riddle.

Concentrating my thoughts on the phrase "feature window", an image appeared clearly in my mind, as if reality itself was responding to my reflection. A virtual window, like one in a video game, revealing crucial information, had materialized before me.

Showing a spontaneous reaction, I decided to act out the situation, guiding the group and telling them what to do. Of course, I had acquired this knowledge by watching the film, but I chose not to reveal my advantage. The scene turned into a theatrical interpretation of reality, every gesture and word carefully measured to guide the group towards the discovery of the feature window.

The group began to follow my lead, focusing their thoughts on the notion of the "feature window". To their surprise, windows appeared before them, revealing a virtual interface.

Continuing our exploration, I pointed out to everyone that there was a HP bar in this feature window.

"Look, it's like in video games: if this bar drops, it means we've lost a hit point".

This sudden discovery offered us a valuable clue, suggesting that our health, symbolized by the HP bar, was directly linked to our survival in this strange universe unfolding around us.

A voice echoed through the cave: "All we have to do is not give ourselves away! If we all stood still in the cave and did nothing, we'd be able to solve the riddle."

The idea floated in the air, offering an attractive option, but perhaps too passive for some of us.

I replied with a touch of humor. "Because you really intend to stay there until the end of the riddle?" A light collective laugh followed my remark.

Laughter echoed through the cave, as the group loudly expressed their determination to do whatever it took to survive. "Hey, I'm willing to sit here until the end if it means getting through the riddle safely!" one of them declared sarcastically, triggering a wave of laughter.

I let a smirk creep across my face as I retorted, "Oh, really? You'll do anything, won't you?" The teasing persisted, some adding teasing comments. "I want to see the one who's going to stand idle until victory!" shouted another, provoking further laughter.

However, my eyes expressed silent conviction, for I knew that behind the laughter lay an inescapable truth: in a survival situation, reality could be far different from superficial bravado.

I spoke up, trying to bring a dose of reality to the situation. "We have a HP bar, just like in video games. If we don't eat or drink, we'll lose a point of life," I announced in a confident voice. However, instead of immediate acceptance, worried murmurs spread through the group.

Doubts began to emerge, with some questioning the veracity of my words. Ishikawa, in an attempt to calm the situation, spoke up. "Wait, remember the advice. They had urged us to look for anything that might cause us to lose damage points. Bun Chokan's theory is a lead not to be overlooked." Eyes then turned to the unexplored possibilities that lay ahead in this complex conundrum.

As some people began to take my warnings about the HP bar seriously, a young man came up to me. He seemed more confident than others, a glint of determination in his eyes, despite the distress on the faces of most of the people around us.

"If your theory holds water, you seem well-informed. Do you have any food?" he asked me, perhaps looking for a way to secure some stability in this uncertain situation.