Lucas returned to the second floor with calm steps, his expression unreadable. The corridor outside Room 203 was already bustling with tension and whispers. A small crowd had gathered, their eyes flicking back and forth between each other, suspicion thick in the air like fog.
One of the top players, known simply as "the cream of the crop", spotted Lucas from a distance.
His eyes lit up with visible relief, and he raised his hand, motioning him over.
Lucas approached slowly but alertly. He had learned from his time at Changming Ghost School to never trust a crowd—even more so in a place like this. As he walked, his eyes flicked toward every person present, mentally calculating threat levels.
A translucent overlay appeared before his eyes:
> [Danger assessment has been generated based on the host's current strength…]
[Trevor: Low-level danger]
[Caleb: Low-level danger]
[Jasmine: Low-level danger]
[Tension: Low-level danger]
[Mark: Low-level danger]
["Daniel": Low-level danger]
[The cream of the crop: Low-level danger]
He nodded to himself.
"As expected. With [Captain's Door] equipped, no one here poses a real threat anymore."
That realization brought a wave of calm over his heart. He stopped worrying about others and focused solely on analyzing the situation.
The cream of the crop lowered his voice as Lucas got closer and gave a quick rundown of the chaos:
"Mark and Daniel came back just a few minutes ago," he whispered urgently, covering his mouth to avoid lip-reading from afar. "Everyone thought they were dead, but they crawled back—barely alive—covered in blood."
Lucas's gaze followed the direction the player indicated.
Room 203.
Outside the room, Mark stood swaying slightly, his clothes torn and drenched in blood. Daniel was on the ground beside him, completely drained. His breathing was ragged, and his face pale like wax.
Inside the room, a struggle was underway.
Mark was gripping Jason's collar tightly, fury in his eyes.
"You don't even have the guts to admit it?!" he shouted.
Jason's face was pale with panic. His hands flailed in the air as he backed away.
"I didn't do anything! I—I wanted to find you last night! I swear!"
Mark laughed bitterly. "You're good at pretending, I'll give you that! I fell for that innocent face… once."
Jason stumbled backward as Mark gave him a rough shove. He crashed into a chair, knocking over a small table, before falling to the floor.
The exertion was clearly too much for Mark.
He fell to his knees, breathing heavily, sweat and blood running down his face.
"You people…" he said through clenched teeth, raising his voice to address the crowd.
"If you really believe me—
Then help me kill him now."
"If you don't act, then I swear—
I will do it myself."
Jason tried to push himself up. He was still shaking his head. "I'm not a ghost! I don't know what's going on!"
The bystanders remained quiet, each person sizing up the situation.
That's when Jasmine stepped forward, arms crossed, her lips curled into a mocking smile.
"You still have the nerve to lie? Look at the state of them!" she snapped, gesturing to the injuries on Mark and Daniel.
Trevor interjected sharply, voice low but forceful.
"Jasmine, you're a ghost yourself. Now you're siding with them? Do you really expect us to believe you?"
Jasmine's face turned pale. "You… Trevor, how dare you—!"
Jason jumped in to support Trevor.
"Exactly! Trevor's right! Jasmine is helping Mark because they're in on it together!"
"They want us confused. Divided. It's all part of their plan!"
Jason's voice grew louder, more desperate. He pointed at everyone around him, as if trying to pull them into his delusion.
"We're being manipulated! Don't you see it?!"
Mark said nothing. He simply turned and spat a mouthful of blood on the floor.
Then he looked up at the crowd again.
"I don't care about your theories."
"To me, Jason is a ghost. That's all that matters."
"And he'll pay for it in blood."
The room was rapidly descending into chaos. People shouted over each other. Voices clashed. Accusations flew like knives in the dark.
The cream of the crop raised a hand, trying to bring reason into the madness.
"Listen. The ghost is clearly among us. That much is certain. But if Mark and Daniel survived the night—then maybe we don't need to sacrifice someone just yet."
"If we can survive two more nights in peace, we might clear the instance…"
His words hung in the air.
Hopeful.
Logical.
But fragile.
Trevor's voice broke the silence again, this time cold and cutting.
"We're forgetting someone."
Everyone paused.
Trevor slowly raised his hand, stretching out his index finger.
He pointed—not at Mark. Not at Jason.
But at Lucas.
"The one who's always holding the knife."
"The one who's constantly completing hidden tasks—on his own."
He took a deep breath and shouted:
"Nathan and Natalie both died in his hands!"
"Am I wrong, Baili?"
Every eye turned toward Lucas.
Even the wounded Mark looked up with shock.
Jason gasped. "Natalie too? When did that happen?!"
Whispers rippled through the group.
Two players. Two deaths. And Lucas was the common denominator.
In that moment, the idea that Lucas might be a ghost leapt to the forefront of everyone's mind.
The cream of the crop stepped forward quickly. "Wait—listen to me! Lucas had reasons! It wasn't random killing—!"
"You've been brainwashed, haven't you?!" Jasmine snapped. "Think about it! He's the only one who's killed multiple players! If he's not a ghost, who is?!"
Lucas looked around slowly.
The line between friends and enemies had vanished.
No one trusted him.
Even those who were human—had turned against him.
Except for one.
Only the cream of the crop still stood by him.
Lucas's eyes finally landed on Trevor. He nodded. Slowly.
"I understand now…"
He looked at the others.
His voice was low, steady, and frighteningly calm.
"I killed. So I must be a ghost."
He paused.
His gaze swept over the entire group.
"All of you who consider yourselves the good guys…"
"Tonight. Remember this."
"Never open the door."
---