I finish preparing for the game.

{if PotGW Bonus = true}L: Welcome to our live-read of Punishment of the Golden Witch! This is your favorite Witch of Certainty, Lambdadelta!

B: This is the cruelest Witch of Miracles, Bernkastel.

L: Bern, let's start off with a juicy one. Technically, this is more about the last chapter, but if we're here, we've gotta talk about what every PotGW reader is talking about on the witch-wide web: "Hashtag High Player" or "Hashtag Dead Player!" Bern, I'm a fantasy fan, and for me, it's team High Player all the way.

B: You're wrong, as usual.

L: Am not! I'm certainly right!

B: You are, miraculously, completely wrong.

L: The Reader is gonna agree with me for sure. So, saying this for certain: Player is 100% dunzo. Kaput. Fini! Player is experiencing a delusion where he thinks he got all kinds of crazy magical powers, but in reality, he's still bound to die at midnight, still part of the same story, and still under the thumb of that other witch. The difference is how you think it happened. Look back at the last chapter: to save himself, that moron huffed some Mystery Super **** X from an enchanted medical inhaler. Whether it's magic or fantasy, if you just start huffing strange medicine, you're gonna have some crazy delusions, right?

B: Try reading the story next time, Lambda... The inhaler is just made-up magic. It has nothing to do with anything. If you want to think of it as anything, it's just foreshadowing that he has, supposedly, gained the ability to start pulling pink trigger powers out of thin air. The Dead Player theory is definitely the canon. Player got punched in the head by Jessica so hard he concussed. Everything that happened after is just a series of dreams... Lousy writing, to be sure, but there you have it.

L: I don't buy it. He lasted way, way too long for him to have been surviving bleeding out! If he's high, on the other hand, he could survive until midnight to have all these wacky delusions!

B: Why would you assume time flows the same in dreams? Besides, aren't there all sorts of stories of people's lives flashing before their eyes before they pass on? That's what this is: for Player, the characters in this story are the only memories of his life, so he's just experiencing them one after another, tied to the anchor of spanking, the last thing he was doing before he died.

L: Anybody who dresses like that guy did is definitely high, Bern.

B: The outfit was another clue for Dead Player... Don't tell me you didn't even notice he dies every time the mask comes off. It's the mask on the same side of his head Jessica hit. In other words, him losing the mask is a direct metaphor for succumbing to his injury. Or... if you want to get particularly macabre about it, his mask is the only thing keeping him together... Get it? Hmhmhm.

L: Oh... Ooooh! I like it! Okay, I changed my mind, I'm team Dead Player with Bern now! I can't believe you really thought it was some goofy mystery ****, Reader!

B: ...{endif}

Greetings again, my friend. My name is... well, was, H. I. Player. After reaching a certain truth in the previous game, prepared by a certain witch of voyeurism, I obtained the title of the Night Lord of Rokkenjima and the right to present my tale to you. My new title is Lord PLAYER. As you join me on this journey, you will come to understand the hearts of the characters in this story and the truth of the peculiar form of love which can thrive only on a night such as that one...

The storm brewed outside. In the dining hall, the table was set for a dinner, the precursor to discussions of wealth and its succession. In the darkness, golden butterflies gathered in preparation for an evening of elegant festivities.

My tale, however, began where my last ended: in the room of the young lady known as Ushiromiya Jessica. By some miracle, I had successfully locked myself in this room as I completed my preparations and day turned to night. I must say, Jessica and her mother, Ushiromiya Natsuhi, can be talented actresses when they put their minds to it, convincing the rotating casts of servants and even their own family that came to the door that some crucial lesson was underway with voices full of composure. Naturally, they'd have to be so talented to so closely guard their secret desires that were laid so bare to me now... Regardless, the truth was that most visitors to our door were happy to leave in peace, eager to return to the business required of them all about the mansion.

I could be seen seated at the desk in Jessica's room, a fun keepsake from when I'd pretended to be an ordinary tutor. I hunched over the details of my game, written in the notebook I'd carried with me in my bag. Good... everything is complete.

No one who witnessed me now could mistake me for an ordinary human any longer. Instead, my appearance was that of the Night Lord, a Demon of Discipline. The transformation of my identity had begun with my pink half-mask, which was the key to my power. Picture a certain Phantom and you're there... My outfit, formed by my pink magic, was a jaunty pink suit with a great white cape, all lined with gold, but also included a flat-topped pink cap with a white visor. My jacket was open to bare my chest, with no undershirt. My white gloves held the quill pen with which I'd just finished recording my tale. I deposited it in the ink well on Jessica's desk.

Jessica and Natsuhi could be seen on the daughter's bed, both nearly as nude as they day they were born, neither making any effort to hide their bodies. They were resting now, but don't worry: we've been ordering Gohda to leave us some beverages to keep them hydrated. That was very important, as they generously offered themselves to me several times as a method of increasing my magic. I'll wake them in a moment.

Now, as for your part...

My friend, this is a trial of trivial difficulty. There will be no more "dummy" endings. There is no way for you to inadvertently choose my **** as a tribute to a fickle witch. As the Master of this tale, I am no longer bound to respect the banal rules of that story. My erotica... has been perfected... In another sense, please understand that this is a gift I am offering you. Like that witch, you need no longer concern yourself with my fate. Please do not be offended when I say it is no longer yours to control. However, I will, at times, allow you options that may increase your enjoyment of the tale.

I will reach my proper end without fail. Therefore, be aware that no woman shall appear in my story, except for me to satisfy her desire and awaken her nature.

You may be astounded by the things you see tonight. However, please be aware that after reaching my truth, these events are based on an understanding of the true natures of the characters in this story. I am merely awakening desires in these characters which already exist. Although I will embellish this tale with elements of fantasy, the heart of this story is love.

Rest assured that I will awaken the nature of every woman on the island of Rokkenjima. With the power of the Pink Trigger you, Jessica, and Natsuhi have helped me to gather, I will expose that part of them all.

Now, to wake-

""Time for an intermission!!""

Who dares to interrupt my preparations? Who can enter this locked room?

Ah... it's them. Those demons can probably smell my love with Natsuhi and Jessica from a realm away... Frankly, considering I haven't had that mother or daughter shower, so I'm quite aware of that smell myself.

These demons are essentially non-combatants. I'm not claiming they're weak: rather, they have a power that defies combat. For them to appear means I am about to be granted a trial...

But hopefully, if you've read this far, you've paid attention to my words. There will be no obstruction. I will not lose precious hours solving riddles, when the truth is already apparent to me. Instead, this will prove a welcome opportunity for me to demonstrate the nature of this story. Let's proceed.