As the sorcerer, H.I. Player, I meet Erika and Dlanor together in the meta-world during the dinner

In a plane above existence, I looked around the familiar family dinner, which the head chef, Ghoda, had so eloquently prepared and the servants served to all of the attending family members. This is typically the height of the roller coaster before things descend into witchcraft and madness in the Rokkenjima incident mysteries. In fact, on occasion, the witch will make herself known here with some sort of unusual sealed letter, which seemingly appears in a way that defies mortal means.

The table usually sits the whole group perfectly, while servants stand. On occasion, a certain party-crasher makes her appearance here... Erika, dressed in that fine, pink-and-white dress that she apparently inherited second-hand from one of the ladies here on Rokkenjima, sits in a position between cousins and adults, as though she was some sort of guest of honor. In reality, she's an outsider- an unknown who simply washed up on the beach here and was given hospitable treatment. That hospitable treatment ascends nearly to royalty when she is armed with the detective proclamation... a special power that will make everyone dance to her tune, providing clues and acting according to strict mystery genre rules.

Of course, the table was a bit more crowded than usual. Directly across from her was a blond man in a blue-green suit; a foreigner. That's me. H.I. Player.

Well... not me-me. That Player is just my piece on the board.

And that's not Erika either. She's here in the meta-world with me.

While those two are muscling for rank as "person with worst intentions on Rokkenjima," Erika and I were doing the same in the meta-world, sitting at a small table with high-backed seats. From my cup: a rich tea. Upon my plate, elegant, flower-shaped cookies that I'd learned to bake in some fragment or another.

I'd made some for her too, but she was foregoing them altogether; they sat uneaten on a plate. That girl was instead elegantly eating cup ramen with chopsticks. Ah... So this is the sort of thing she enjoys when nobody's around to scold her for it. Bernkastel was nowhere in sight. Apparently I wasn't worthy for her time... Erika had been sent to deal with me. She was dressed in white and pink, just like her human piece, and her face was the picture of poise and self-confidence.

Erika was not alone. Behind her stood the leader of Eiserne Jungfrau, Dlanor, waiting patiently with her arms crossed behind her back. Upon one of her arms was a huge, metal gauntlet. With her pale white skin and stoic frown, she could very well have been a statue watching over us. I'd seen her eat a cookie or two earlier, though, and knew she was waiting for her chance to participate in the inquisition here.

That's right... this was an inquisition.

Ah... You may have all day to eat ramen noodles, Erika, but I'm going to die lately. She must know that... After all, this Erika is very aware of my role in the story. I cleared my throat and started over again. Lady Erika, it is a pleasure to finally meet you. I am H.I. Player, the master of this game board.

"You're from America, right, Player? Were you not a college student at one point?" Erika asked, setting her chopsticks down neatly and speaking eloquently.

I told her I was. I didn't mention that I'd dropped out before finishing.

"Aren't American college students supposed to be the type who know the value of ramen? And yet you got hooked on the same tea and cookies as all of these western-obsessed Ushiromiyas... I think that tells me a lot about you and your worthiness as my opponent," she spoke coolly, then sipped from her ramen broth as neatly as though it were tea. This witch was judging me for not eating enough cup ramen...

Ah... If only Erika could get to the point as fast as she can cook her prized ramen noodles. I asked her again why she'd come to me, delivering this inquisition. I'd felt compelled to start writing a chapter with her, but it was almost as though she'd **** me into it... perhaps this was the power of the witch.

"Mister Player... You called this a game board earlier, but it's nothing of the sort. The witch's game board is a place where battles of mystery and fantasy play out in the form of a fully realized narrative... Fabulous flights of fancy which a detective, such as myself, then reduces to tatters, pointing out all of the tropes, unreliable narratives, tricks, and misdirection that led one to believe there was any type of magic at play until the only thing left is the bare mystery! This is... what would you call this?"

Erotica, of course. I've been very up front about that.

"Erotica... Yes," she answered simply. Dlanor watched quietly from the background. "Do you know why we've begun this inquisition?"

I told her I assumed it's because Bernkastel is sick of my writing.

"It's true that she isn't happy with you," Erika answered, taking another dignified sip of lukewarm, salty ramen water. "However, that's not why I'm here. This particular inquisition is because I'm not happy with you, personally. I've asked for my master's leeway to take this game board back from you and she's granted me permission to come and end you, once and for all. This sloppy story is about to be taken apart, page by page, and thrown into the fire... Then all of your readers can go back to reading something worthwhile."

I looked to Dlanor again, wondering if she intended to uphold the tenants of the mystery genre even in this story. It was time for me to set Erika straight... If you're here to take part in my game, then you should know...