Live Broadcast Hall
"What the hell…"
One by one, the live broadcast notifications lit up the screen, filling the interface with pings and flashes. A crowd of eager viewers flooded into the main viewing window, the chat scrolling faster than the eye could follow.
"Natalie is number one on this month's newcomer rankings, and Lucas is third. Even Marco is in this one! They've all entered the same dungeon. This is going to be a battle of legends!"
"Wait, the newcomer list only updates once a month, and Lucas ranked third after only one round? That's terrifying..."
"'Terror Cruise'? That's a new dungeon title, right? And it's a confrontation dungeon too?"
"I don't get how confrontation dungeons are only rated third-level. Letting players kill each other like this is insane!"
"I couldn't even understand the mission prompt. What is this twisted game?"
...
Once the main mission appeared on their interface, Lucas stepped quickly to the side. His instincts screamed at him: stay away from the others. He glanced at the players around him, eyes wary.
No one knew anyone else's true identity. Trust was a foreign word now.
In his hand, Lucas clenched a blood-stained kitchen knife tighter, fingers white around the hilt.
Most of the other players reacted similarly—nervous, alert, distrustful.
Only one stood out.
He had slicked-back hair and a neatly trimmed beard. He leaned casually against the deck rail, watching Lucas with a curious glint in his eye.
"Guests, aboard!" called a waiter, crisp in a navy-blue uniform.
One by one, the twelve players ascended the gangplank to the towering cruise ship—The Royal Blue State. It gleamed under the afternoon sun, filled with elegantly dressed tourists enjoying drinks, music, and laughter. They were blissfully unaware of the game quietly unfolding aboard.
Led by the waitstaff, the players were guided to the second floor's corridor lined with numbered rooms.
"Your rooms have been arranged. May your journey aboard the Royal Blue State be... unforgettable," the waiter said with a polite bow.
From his pocket, he withdrew a list.
"Room 201: Lucas, Marco, Nathan.
Room 202: Natalie, Ivy, Chloe.
Room 203: Jason, Mark, Daniel.
Room 204: Trevor, Caleb, Jasmine."
As soon as the words left his mouth, a heavy silence settled among the players.
The mission prompt had been chilling: "Three people become ghosts."
And there were three people per room.
Lucas pressed his lips into a tight line. This dungeon wasn't here to coddle them. It was here to break them.
Marco—the man with the beard and relaxed demeanor—raised a hand.
"Can we request a room change?"
The waiter gave a polite smile, but his eyes were cold.
"Every guest has been assigned the most suitable room. Room changes are not permitted."
The subtext in his tone didn't go unnoticed. There was no escape from this arrangement.
Marco lowered his hand and thoughtfully stroked his beard.
...
Once the players entered their respective rooms, the waiter disappeared, leaving behind only the hollow silence of the dim corridor.
Lucas stepped into Room 201. The first thing he did was claim the bed closest to the door—an instinctive move for a quick escape, if needed.
His eyes swept over the room. Marco and Nathan stood a few feet away.
[Marco: Intermediate Threat Level]
[Nathan: Intermediate Threat Level]
[Toilet – Room 201: Low Threat]
[Sofa – Room 201: Low Threat]
[Table for Four – Room 201: Low Threat]
[Vase – Room 201: Low Threat]
...
The danger wasn't coming from the room.
It was coming from the people inside it.
Lucas's body tensed like a coiled spring. The kitchen knife never left his grip.
Marco clapped once and began to speak.
"Alright, we've got twelve players. Two sides. The mission says three people will become ghosts. That's one ghost per room. Makes sense, right?"
He pointed to the room roster pinned to the wall.
"Three people per room means each room is guaranteed to have a ghost hiding in plain sight. The task for the rest? Survive three nights. And the ghost's goal? Simple—kill while hiding their identity."
He snapped his fingers. "So here's my suggestion: we watch each other, all the time. No surprises. No secrets. No one dies. What do you say?"
The question was directed to Nathan and Lucas, but his gaze lingered on Lucas, curious about his reaction.
Outside, the last rays of sunlight sank into the sea.
The sky turned dark. The game had truly begun.
Nathan leaned on the table, unfazed. "I don't care. You take the lead, man. I'll go with it."
Elliot, watching from the shadows, nodded respectfully.
Everyone's attention drifted back to Lucas, who hadn't spoken a word.
"Your logic is sound," Lucas said slowly, his tone firm. "But I think... it's still not safe enough."
His eyes locked with Marco's.
"Being in the same room as a ghost is too dangerous. We need more than just surveillance."
Marco blinked.
He hadn't expected that. Lucas's cautious behavior was understandable, even rational—but it threw off his usual control.
Still, Lucas's anxious expression didn't suggest deceit or manipulation.
It looked like real fear. Real calculation.
Marco softened his tone. "Don't worry. I'll keep a close eye on you. As long as we stay at a distance, we're safe. Agreed?"
Lucas sighed. "Fine. We'll try it your way."
But the kitchen knife stayed where it was—tight in his arms, never far from his grip.
...
Live Chat Comments:
: Marco's deduction was lightning-fast. Dude's sharp!
: Honestly, it's the smartest plan. Don't play the guessing game—just prevent the ghost from acting at all.
: Lucas saying it wasn't safe enough cracked me up. Got a better idea, bro?
: Nah, I feel him. I'd be nervous too if I were stuck in there.
...
Midnight.
Some players stayed in their rooms.
Others explored the cruise ship, searching for safer places to spend the night—anywhere but within four walls.
Inside Room 201, the beds were placed in three corners. After a few exchanges, the trio went to bed.
Marco didn't close his eyes. Not for a second. He lay on his side, eyes darting between Nathan and Lucas.
Nathan was out cold in minutes, snoring softly.
Lucas's bed, however, remained quiet. Unnervingly quiet.
Hours passed.
Around 3 AM, the cruise ship rocked gently in the ocean swells, like a cradle. Marco's eyelids grew heavier. Sleep tugged at him.
"Just five minutes..."
But that five minutes stretched too far.
A bloodcurdling scream sliced through the still night.
Marco jerked awake, adrenaline exploding in his chest.
And there—just five centimeters from his face—was Lucas.
Lucas. Squatting beside his bed.
Kitchen knife in hand. Pressed to Marco's throat.
Marco's heart almost stopped.
Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted something.
Blood.
His gaze whipped toward Nathan's bed.
Motionless body.
Sheets soaked in red.
Dead silent.
Marco's mouth opened.
"What the—?!"
...
End of Chapter 9
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