Stories of Sandeept

Experiences of a common man!

Category: Character study

Illustration of Simon by Andrés Vera Martínez

Simon and the Fragility of Humanity in a Brutal Tribe in Lord of the Flies

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On August 1, 2025

In Character study, Book Review

In William Golding’s Lord of the Flies, Simon stands apart from the other biguns as a luminous symbol of innate goodness, moral clarity, and spiritual insight. The novel places him at the beginning as a sickly and quiet, but kind boy ending up as a prophet violently silenced by the very society he tried to save.

Illustration of Simon by Andrés Vera Martínez
Illustration by Andrés Vera Martínez

1. Introduction as a Fragile Yet Strong Boy

Simon is one of the choirboys under Jack Merridew’s command. In the first scene is introduced, he faints. Jack remarks:

“He’s always throwing a faint… He did in Gib; and Addis; and at matins over the precentor.”

It’s an early hint at his fragility. But he is not much physically weak for someone who faints frequently. In fact, he accompanies Ralph and Jack to the mountain during their first expedition pacing between them. This could be symbolic of the two eventual leaders’ trust in his ability, neutrality between two dominant personalities, and kind of physical and moral balance.

Simon has a natural affinity for peace. Unlike Jack, who seeks control, or Ralph, who carries the burden of leadership, and Piggy, who seeks supports, he prefers independence, solitude and reflection. He is more connected with nature than the others since he escapes to a hidden forest glade, finding solace among butterflies, candle-buds, and silence.

He is also the most compassionate. Simon is the only one who truly understands and helps Piggy, fetching his glasses and comforting the younger “littluns” with fruit. His kindness is instinctive, not strategic.

In these early moments, he emerges as a spiritual leader as expected of a choirboy. Unlike Jack and his hunters, he retains his moral compass and remains a gentle soul existing outside the usual group dynamics.

2. A Prophetic Insight: Seeing the Truth Others Can’t

In a meeting of the boys where they talk of the beast from water and air, Ralph, Jack and Piggy dismiss the fear because no one has seen a beast. Simon is the one who sees urges them to look within.

“Maybe there is a beast… maybe it’s only us.”

This line, whispered during a fearful assembly, is perhaps the most profound insight in the entire novel. While others imagine a physical monster stalking them, Simon realizes the “beast” is the darkness within themselves. He touches the central theme of Golding’s novel: that savagery is not an external threat but a dormant part of human nature.

But his voice is lost amid fear, ridicule, and power politics. Like a prophet dismissed for others to look into their souls, the group isolates him further since the idea is too unsettling to accept.

3. The Vision: The Lord of the Flies and the Breaking of the Mind

The most symbolic and harrowing moment in the entire novel comes with Simon’s hallucinatory confrontation with the impaled sow’s head, the literal Lord of the Flies. It says to him:

“There isn’t anyone to help you. Only me. And I’m the Beast.”

The beast adds:

“I’m part of you. Close, close, close! I’m the reason why it’s no go? Why things are what they are?”

As his mind keeps drifting, the Lord of the Flies brings out the truth:

“Fancy thinking the Beast was something you could hunt and kill! … You knew, didn’t you? I’m part of you?”

In these moments, Simon’s mind shatters and he descends into unconsciousness. After this psychosis he is the most isolated as he has gone where no other boy has.

4. Simon’s Martyrdom

After waking, Simon climbs the mountain and discovered the decayed body of a parachutist, the beast from air.

“The beast was harmless and horrible; and the news must reach the others as soon as possible.”

He stumbles down from the mountain to reveal the truth and staggers into the boys’ frenzied dance.

In a moment of ritualistic hysteria, Simon is mistaken for the beast and brutally murdered by the very boys he came to save.

At once the crowd surged after it, poured down the rock, leapt on to the beast, screamed, struck, bit, tore… There were no words, and no movements but the tearing of teeth and claws.

Jack and his hunters are indifferent, and Piggy and Ralph try rationalising the action, but the nature mourns his death. The storm that follows, washing his body out to sea with glowing creatures surrounding him, transforms Simon’s death into something sacred:

“Softly, surrounded by a fringe of inquisitive bright creatures, itself a silver shape beneath the steadfast constellation… Simultaneously, the clouds opened and let down the rain like a waterfall.”

Golding paints Simon as a Christ-like figure, a martyr who dies bringing truth to a world unwilling to hear it. His death marks the irrevocable fall into savagery.

Conclusion: Simon as the Soul of the Novel

Simon’s arc from a silent, compassionate child to a misunderstood prophet makes him the most morally uncorrupted character in Lord of the Flies. He represents inherent human goodness, unaffected by society and groupthink, spiritual and philosophical depth, grounded in empathy and insight, and the inevitable fate of truth in a world ruled by fear and violence. His murder is the most numbing moment implying the end of humanity. Once he dies, there remains only savagery.

Piggy: The Ruined Rationalist in Lord of the Flies

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On July 18, 2025

In Character study, Book Review, essay

William Golding‘s Lord of the Flies is a brutal allegory of civilisation’s collapse explored in the realm of English boys stranded on an island. While Ralph symbolises democratic order and Jack the descent into savagery, Piggy stands apart as the voice of reason and intellect. However, despite being the most rational boy on the island, he is mocked and bullied for his uniqueness and ultimately destroyed. His tragic arc is not only a personal downfall but also evidence of humanity’s tendency to reject reason when fear and instinct take over.

Illustration of Piggy by Andrés Vera Martínez
Illustration of Piggy by Andrés Vera Martínez

Piggy’s Role in the Narrative

Piggy is the first boy introduced alongside Ralph. His fat body, thick glasses, thin hair that does not seem to grow, and asthma make him an unattractive outcast. He carries trauma from being bullied at home, which renders him socially awkward. Although Ralph introduces him to others with the dehumanising nickname Piggy, he is not mad at him for breaking the promise. He accepts the mockery as if calling by any name is enough. As a consequence, he is the only character whose real name is never revealed. Golding’s literary choice strips him of personal identity.

Despite his appearance, Piggy possesses the sharpest mind among the boys. He is responsible for several foundational ideas on the island:

  • The use of the conch shell as a symbol of democracy, order, and source of power.
  • The importance of maintaining the signal fire for rescue.
  • An insistence on rational thought over superstition when the littluns are scared of the beast.

Yet time and again, Piggy’s intellect is overshadowed by his social awkwardness. His ideas and logic don’t bear weight unless validated by Ralph, the leader. And when the others don’t care for his words, he follows them “with the martyred expression of a parent who has to keep up with the senseless ebullience of the children.”

Piggy and the Symbolism of the Glasses

Piggy’s spectacles serve as a powerful symbol in the novel:

  • They represent scientific knowledge that allows the boys to harness nature.
  • As the glasses are damaged and eventually stolen by Jack’s tribe, reason and clarity deteriorate on the island.
  • When Jack and his tribe steal the glasses, brute force usurps science.

By the time Piggy is murdered, the glasses are no longer an aid for vision but a tool for destruction, used to light destructive fires rather than the signal fire of hope.

Piggy and the Conch: Twin Pillars of Civilization

Piggy clings to the conch shell as desperately as he does to reason. He believes in its symbolic power and defends it even when the others no longer do:

“I got the conch! I got the right to speak!”

His faith in the conch mirrors his faith in rules, dialogue, and justice. It was also his compulsion to cling to order since he was vulnerable, and rules meant predictability to the promise of his protection. When Roger kills Piggy and the conch shatters, there is no longer civil discourse on the island.

Piggy’s Rationalizations and Flawed Humanity

Despite being the most logical character, Piggy is not immune to moral failings. He is scornful of the boys for behaving “like a crowd of kids!” When Jack breaks away from the group, he and Ralph are tempted by the meat. They cater to their hunger even if it is insulting.

Also, after Simon is brutally murdered, Piggy tries to rationalise the act:

“It was an accident… that’s what it was. An accident.”

This moment reveals that Piggy, too, is vulnerable. He cannot confront the full horror of what the boys have become. His attempt to preserve sanity by denying culpability shows that even reason seeks comfort in denial when faced with the abyss.

Piggy’s Death and Legacy

Golding seems to foreshadow Piggy’s death from the first successful hunt. The chant of “Kill the pig. Cut her throat. Spill the blood” seems to subconsciously hint the readers towards Piggy’s ultimate fate.

And when Piggy’s death comes, it is one of the most brutal and symbolic moments in the novel. He is crushed by a boulder rolled by Roger, a deliberate act of premeditated violence. Roger kills Piggy out of cold dominance.

Piggy falls with the conch in his hand. His death marks the complete collapse of civilisation, the final erasure of order and rationality from the island. No one mourns him. No one buries him. He is a forgotten martyr of lost reason.

Conclusion: Piggy as the Broken Voice of Enlightenment

In a world unravelling into chaos, Piggy’s voice is the one we most urgently need. Voices of rationality like his are also the ones most easily ignored. Piggy is the embodiment of Enlightenment values, crushed under the weight of fear, violence, and groupthink.

Through Piggy, Golding seems to ask:
What good is logic in a world ruled by emotion?
What power does reason have when no one listens?

In the end, Piggy doesn’t simply die. He is silenced. With him die rationality, logic, and civil discourse. And perhaps that is the greatest tragedy of all.

An illustration of Jack by Andrés Vera Martínez

Jack—the Fallen Angel in Lord of the Flies

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On June 13, 2025

In Character study, Blogging, Book Review

Jack Merridew, interestingly the only character whose full name is known, enters Lord of the Flies as the confident leader of the boys’ choir, dressed in a black cloak and marching with military precision. Over the course of the novel, he transforms into a violent, primal figure driven by the lust for power and blood. Jack is not merely a character—he is a fallen angel, an embodiment of humanity’s latent savagery, a warning against the fragility of civilization.

An illustration of Jack by Andrés Vera Martínez
Illustration of Jack by Andrés Vera Martínez

1. From Choirboy to Tyrant

Jack begins the novel with an external aura of authority and order:

“I ought to be chief,” said Jack with simple arrogance, “because I’m chapter chorister and head boy.”

— Chapter 1

Even Golding acknowledges that Jack was “the most obvious” leader:

This toy of voting was almost as pleasing as the conch. Jack started to protest but the clamour changed from the general wish for a chief to an election by acclaim of Ralph himself. None of the boys could have found good reason for this; what intelligence has been shown was traceable to Piggy while the most obvious leader was Jack.

— Chapter 1 (Page 19)

However, when Ralph is chosen leader, Jack’s ego is wounded, setting the stage for his eventual rebellion. But he still bonds with Ralph, respects the rules, and tries to work within the system:

“We’ve got to have rules and obey them. After all, we’re not savages.”

— Chapter 2

Moreover, in the early chapters, Jack sees providing meat as his way of being useful, of proving his worth in the group’s survival. Ralph wants to build shelters and keep the signal fire going; Jack wants to feed people. In this sense, he is trying to take on responsibility. Jack is embarrassed by his inability to kill the pig:

“Next time—!” he snatched his knife out of the sheath and slammed it into a tree trunk. “I’ll get the pig next time!”

— Chapter 1

Although this moment could be interpreted as the beginning of his bloodthirst, he is actually frustrated by his inability to help. The failure, however, humiliates him. His obsession with hunting begins as a means to redeem that failure. By Chapter 4, he paints his face with clay and charcoal—his first literal mask—and undergoes a symbolic transformation:

“The mask was a thing on its own, behind which Jack hid, liberated from shame and self-consciousness.”

When Jack’s boys fail to keep the fire and Ralph scolds Jack, tensions boil over. Piggy supports Ralph, and Jack lashes out—not at Ralph, but at Piggy, the voice of reason:

“You didn’t ought to have let that fire out. You said you’d keep the smoke going—”
Jack smacked Piggy’s head. Piggy’s glasses flew off and tinkled on the rocks.

One lens cracks. This is the first physical blow to Piggy’s only tool of vision—both literal sight and symbolic insight.

Almost midway through the novel, Jack breaks from the group.

“Bollocks to the rules! We’re strong—we hunt!”

By the end of the novel, Jack leads a tribe that worships the “Beast,” carries out ritualistic killings, and hunts Ralph. His descent is complete: he is no longer a boy pretending to be a leader; he is a savage warlord.

2. The Fallen Angel

Jack Merridew is often symbolised as the representation of savagery, primal instincts, and the beast within. He also shows how being religious is different from being moral or restrained.

Introduced not just as a boy, but as the leader of the choir, wearing a black cloak and cap badge—symbols often associated with religious tradition and discipline, Jack brings some hope in time of despair. In mid-20th-century Britain, choirs were typically linked to churches or religious schools, and the role of “chapter chorister” implies Jack’s background in spiritual guidance and moral order.

Golding uses this background to set up a powerful irony: the boy who should represent moral uprightness and Christian values becomes the architect of ritualistic violence. His descent from singing hymns to leading blood-chants like: “Kill the beast! Cut his throat! Spill his blood!” mirrors a fall from grace.

In this light, Jack resembles a Lucifer figure: once noble but corrupted by pride and the lust for power. The religious symbolism is reversed—what should be holy becomes savage, and the choir turns into a tribe of masked hunters. It is a chilling metaphor for how easily institutional morality can collapse under pressure.

3. Relationship with Other Characters

With Ralph

Initially rivals, Ralph and Jack represent clashing worldviews. Ralph values cooperation; Jack craves dominance. Their power struggle reflects the conflict between rule of law and anarchy.

“They hate you, Ralph. They’re going to do you.”

– Samneric (Chapter 12)

With Piggy

Jack mocks Piggy from the start. Piggy’s intellect threatens him, and his physical weakness makes him an easy target.

“Shut up, Fatty!”

– Chapter 1

Piggy is symbolic of logic and reason, which Jack rejects entirely.

With Simon

Though Jack never directly harms Simon, his culture of fear and frenzy enables Simon’s murder. The tribal dance that kills Simon is a product of Jack’s ideology.

With Roger

Jack unleashes Roger’s darker instincts. Roger’s sadism grows under Jack’s rule, suggesting Jack’s ability to empower cruelty in others.

“Roger sharpened a stick at both ends.”

– Chapter 12

Jack doesn’t just fall into savagery; he becomes its architect.

4. The Tribal Leader

As the leader of the tribe that is fearful of the unknown, Jack provides certainty. He knows what to do and how to do it. He exhibits traits of narcissism as he constantly craves for attention and control. His lack and empathy and enjoyment in others’ pain represents psychopathy. Even when frightened, he blames the beast for his fears and develops rituals around them. Moreover, he uses mob mentality to justify violence.

5. Leadership Style: Domination over Democracy

Jack’s leadership contrasts starkly with Ralph’s. Whereas Ralph’s governance is based on election and consent, assemblies, and free speech, Jack rules with command and fear. He prioritises hunting and pleasure over Ralph’s desire for rescue and civilisation.

Furthermore, Jack does not appeal to reason but to emotion and instinct—especially fear. He capitalizes on the boys’ growing belief in the Beast to consolidate power.

“The conch doesn’t count at this end of the island—”

— Chapter 9

This rejection of symbols of order marks the collapse of rational governance under Jack’s rule.

In the end, Ralph weeps “for the end of innocence.” Jack, in contrast, shows no remorse. Even when rescued, he stays silent, perhaps shocked.

Conclusion: Jack as the Shadow of Humanity

Jack is not a demon; he is disturbingly human. Golding uses him to show how quickly civilization can collapse and how easily people—especially children—can be seduced by power, fear, and groupthink. As a fallen angel, Jack demonstrates how religion fails in the face of survivalism and fear. If Ralph is the tragic hero, Jack is the warning: that within every society lies the potential for tyranny, and within every person, the capacity for evil.

An illustration of Ralph by Andrés Vera Martínez

Ralph and the Failure of Western Idealism in Lord of the Flies

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On June 6, 2025

In Character study, Blogging, Book Review

William Golding’s Lord of the Flies is often interpreted as a grim allegory of civilisation versus savagery. At its centre stands Ralph—a fair-haired, charismatic boy elected as the island’s first leader. Ralph represents order, reason, and the ideals of democratic leadership. But beneath his moral posture lies a character riddled with contradictions, blind spots, and, ultimately, helplessness. This article explores Ralph not as a straightforward hero but as a symbol of Western liberal ideals, whose failure mirrors real-world political collapses and moral compromises.

Ralph as illustrated by Andrés Vera Martínez
Illustration of Ralph by Andrés Vera Martínez

1. The Charismatic Beginning

William Golding establishes Ralph as an athletic and charming boy early on:

You could see now that he might make a boxer, … but there was a mildness about his mouth and eyes that proclaimed no devil.

— Chapter 1 (Page 5)

Ralph does not have much intellect, however. When he and Piggy find a shell on the beach, Ralph almost ignores it as an ordinary stone. Only when Piggy tells him it is a conch and that it can be used to call other survivors does he dig it up. Moreover, Piggy has to explain to him how to blow. As the sound of the conch summons the other boys scattered on the island, the boys look at him with awe. And when Ralph calls for an election for the chief, almost everyone approves of him. As Golding notes:

This toy of voting was almost as pleasing as the conch. Jack started to protest but the clamour changed from the general wish for a chief to an election by acclaim of Ralph himself. None of the boys could have found good reason for this; what intelligence has been shown was traceable to Piggy while the most obvious leader was Jack. But there was a stillness about Ralph as he sat that marked him out: there was his size, and attractive appearance; and most obscurely, yet most powerfully, there was the conch. The being that had blown that, had sat waiting for them on the platform with the delicate thing balanced on his knees, was set apart.

— Chapter 1 (Page 19)

Ralph is chosen as chief not because of his intellect or vision, but because of his appearance and presence. The boys are drawn to his aura rather than his leadership skills or his policy. In essence, Golding sets him up as a charismatic leader who is doomed to fail once that charisma fades.

2. Civilization without Compassion

Ralph’s leadership is built on rational goals: maintaining the signal fire, building shelters, and holding assemblies. However, his form of governance is structural but emotionally detached. Nor does he cherish intellect. The evidence can be seen early.

Ralph’s early mockery of Piggy—repeating his nickname, scoffing at his asthma—might seem harmless, but it establishes a hierarchy where intellect and vulnerability are ridiculed. Even his language (e.g., “Sucks to your auntie!” and “Sucks to your ass-mar!”) reveals how casual words reinforce social power. Though he later grows to respect Piggy, these small cruelties contribute to Piggy’s marginalisation.

Furthermore, he enjoys teasing Piggy, revealing an early alignment with the boys’ social hierarchy rather than justice.

“Piggy was a bore; his fat, his ass-mar and his matter-of-fact ideas were dull; but there was always a little pleasure to be got out of pulling his leg, even if one did it by accident.”

— Chapter 4 (Page 69)

Ralph is not a tyrant like Jack—but he is a bystander who benefits from unjust structures, at least initially.

Ralph also betrays subtle cruelty and prejudice when he:

  • dismisses the littluns’ fears of the “beast” instead of addressing them empathetically;
  • pays no attention to their discomfort (like sitting on a broken log (Chapter 5, Page 83)).
  • underestimates how fear, hunger, and myth shape behaviour more than logic does.

These oversights foreshadow the collapse of his authority.

3. A Leader Who Cannot Protect

Ralph builds shelter for the boys and offers protection from the weather, but when it comes to safeguarding the littluns or Piggy, he fails.

As previously stated, Ralph slams those who talk of the beast. Even though Sam and Eric (Samneric) had run away from the “Beast from the Air”, he does not set out to check out immediately or provide for protection of the others.

Meanwhile, the turning point in his leadership arrives when Jack strikes Piggy and breaks his glass. Ralph cannot prevent this act of violence. He shouts, accuses, but refuses to fight. He shuns himself for losing his cool. This shows that his moral authority lacks enforcement and his pacifism, while noble, enables further violence—Piggy’s eventual murder and his own persecution.

This failure parallels liberal democracies that falter in the face of rising authoritarianism, clinging to procedure as the world burns.

4. The Limits of Rationalism: The Beast and the Dark

Although Ralph insists the beast isn’t real, he too flees in terror when he sees the dead parachutist on the mountain. This moment is symbolic:

  • It exposes the limits of Enlightenment rationality when faced with visceral, irrational fear.
  • Ralph, like many liberal leaders, talks of reason but cannot confront the beast—within or without.

Unlike Simon, who seeks understanding, Ralph tries to suppress fear through order—and fails.

5. The Grown-Ups He Both Rejects and Needs

Ralph begins the story thrilled at the absence of adults, yet constantly reaches for them:

  • He dreams of his father’s ship rescuing them.
  • He insists on the signal fire as a way to restore contact with civilization.

This contradiction—yearning for autonomy but craving rescue—mirrors post-revolution societies and liberal states that seek freedom but collapse under the burden of self-rule.

6. Collapse and Awakening

By the end, Ralph is no longer a chief but a hunted animal. Jack has replaced democratic order with fear-based rule. Ralph finally understands the cost of all the small compromises, blind spots, and his own emotional detachment. He misses Piggy’s intellect, Simon’s kindness, and Samneric’s moral standing.

When the naval officer arrives, Ralph breaks down—not in relief, but in grief:

“Ralph wept for the end of innocence, the darkness of man’s heart…”

Conclusion: Ralph as the Tragic Symbol of Failed Idealism

Ralph is not evil, nor foolish. He is a sincere, flawed idealist who tries to do good without fully understanding the emotional and structural forces around him. Through Ralph, Golding suggests that:

  • Civilization cannot survive on structure alone—it requires empathy, courage, and the will to confront darkness.
  • Without recognizing the beast within ourselves, even the best systems will fall.
  • And sometimes, when good men do nothing, the worst rise to power.

In that sense, Ralph’s failure is not just personal—it’s civilizational. He is not just a boy weeping for innocence lost; he is the last flicker of hope in a world that believed order alone could tame chaos.

Why Kazuo Kiriyama did not win the Battle

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On November 9, 2018

In Blogging, Book Review, Character study, Movies, Review

Kazuo Kiriyama is the best “player” of the “game” that involves killing classmates. He alone kills twelve of his classmates. Yet he ends up dead. A lot of Battle Royale video game fans seem to be annoyed by this fact. They say, “He deserved to win.” I say, “He didn’t. A novel or a movie is different from a video game.”

The kid who never smiled

We get the first and the most important insight into Kazuo Kiriyama’s character through Mitsuru Numai in Chapter 11. Mitsuru had been in an occasion, saved from bullies by Kazuo and since then, he had revered the latter. He believed Kazuo was the one capable of beating the system and destroy the Battle Royal Programme because he had defeated local yakuza (Yakuza is an organization of powerful Japanese gangsters or mafias).

Mitsuru and his friends make him the leader of the gang called the Kiriyama family. Despite being called notorious in the city, the Kiriyama family never bullied upon others in the school. They all relied on Kazuo Kiriyama and did things for fun. However, when Kiriyama kills his gang within an hour of the beginning of the game, Mitsuru Numai notices one thing that they had always ignored: “Kazuo Kiriyama never smiled.” (Chapter 11, Battle Royale)

Kazuo Kiriyama is apathetic. He does not feel anything. Neither joy, nor sorrow, no pity, no guilt. We later know that while he was still in his mother’s womb, she fell in an accident and a stake had entered Kiriyama’s head. The accident destroyed his emotional centre. Whatever the reason, Kiriyama is what Shogo Kawada tells us: “A hollow man … There’s no place in his heart for logic or love, no. For any kind of values. That kind of person. On top of that, there’s no reason for the way he is.” (Chapter 67, Battle Royale).

The coin toss

If one thing that changed the complexion of the story, it is Kiriyama’s coin toss. He had two options:

  1. To participate in the game, and
  2. To destroy the Battle Royale Programme and the government.

Kiriyama’s choices are not based on logic. They were based on chance. Had he used logic, he would have chosen the second option. He would have been a great helping hand to our heroes Shogo Kawada, Shuya Nanahara and Shinji Mimura. None of our heroes believed he was capable of killing his classmates. He hadn’t even bullied one! Kiriyama’s coin toss, thus becomes a bane for all his classmates.

Even if Kiriyama had not been thinking logically, had the coin toss made him destroy the Programme, he would have got support from his gang as well as the others. They would not have to fear their own classmates. Forty of them could have brought down the Programme in no time.

In the movie, however, Kiriyama is a new student like Shogo Kawada and is a mystery. In the novel, he is their classmate and still a mystery. Kiriyama from the novel, to me, is a bigger villain. But he could have easily turned into a hero.

Why Kiriyama did not win

Simply, because letting Kiriyama win was against the books theme of love and kindness. Kiriyama is the exact opposite of love and kindness. Had Koshun Takami, the author, let Kiriyama win, he would have set a wrong example. He had to save the lovely Noriko and the lucky Shuya to send a message: “Apathy is a vice,” and: “Choice made without reasoning is a curse.”

Had Kiriyama won, another theme of the book would have been crushed: rebellion. After the coin toss, Kiriyama’s chance of being a rebellion dies. Rebellion stays alive in the form of Nakagawa and Nanahara. They didn’t get long lecture from Kawada about the system and change to get killed in the end. They are there to bring about some change. Kiriyama’s victory would have shattered Shogo’s dream, and our hopes that the Battle Royale Programme would come to an end. Kiriyama did not win. We still have a hope.

[Featured image obtained from fdzeta.com]

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