Waking up in a room with no recollection of how you got there, surrounded by strangers, and stripped of your possessions… it’s far from the ideal situation.
However, Moriarty seems to be taking it well. Perhaps… too well? He doesn’t seem worried at all… no, he actually seems rather excited by this premise. It’s kind of worrisome, knowing the gambler.
Being here with these people… he figures… it must be some kind of game.
That has to be the answer! A game! They’re gonna play a game! And of course, Moriarty will win. He briefly wonders what his captors will bet, and what he’ll get if he wins. Something really cool, he hopes.
Right now, he’s making the most terrible face - staring at one classmate in particular. Isamu Ueda. Ah yes. The two of them… how Moriarty would love to gamble against him again.
So he strides right up to him.
“Nyaaaaaanteeeeeeei-taaaamaaaaaaaaaa~.”
Jeez, stop making that face, please.
When he saw that familiar red coat, Isamu’s face had already turned to a grimace. Please, if any deity exists, don’t let it be-
What god did Isamu anger? What did he do to deserve this?
“For gods’ sake…” He grumbled as Moriarty stalked his way forward. “Moriarty stop making that face.”
That’s Moriarty for you, SHSL Good Luck, aka, Isamu’s biggest headache. Why is it that everywhere he goes, Moriarty follows along somehow?!
“That aside, I don’t assume you have any idea as to where we are?” Under normal circumstances he would have no expectation that Moriarty would give him a straight answer, but Isamu believes even he understands what they are in right now.
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