A horrifying realization surged through Elliot's mind like a current of icy water.
"Are you... the ghost hiding among us three?!"
His voice cracked with panic as he stared at Lucas, who stood calmly with a blood-stained kitchen knife pressed dangerously close to his throat.
Nathan's unmoving body on the bed wasn't a hallucination. The dark pool of blood spreading across the mattress was real—undeniable proof of cold-blooded murder.
Elliot felt rage, disbelief, and a sharp edge of fear clawing at his chest. His survival instincts screamed, but he didn't dare move. That knife was far too close.
And then, just as quickly as he'd raised it, Lucas withdrew the blade.
"I told you," Lucas said, his tone even and strangely calm, as he wiped the blood onto Marco's sleeve without hesitation, "what you were doing wasn't safe."
Elliot stared at him in stunned silence.
Lucas sheathed the knife in the fold of his jacket and continued, "When you can't tell the difference between friend and enemy, the safest choice… is to eliminate every dangerous possibility."
Marco—known as the "cream of the crop" among players—felt a chill crawl down his spine. Lucas's words weren't reckless—they were calculated.
"So you decided it was better to risk killing two innocent people than to let one ghost go free?" Marco asked, the weight of it all settling over him.
Lucas met his eyes and nodded with complete sincerity.
"Yes. That was my plan from the beginning. When I killed Nathan in his sleep, it felt... right. Like cutting through fog to reach clarity. The sensation told me he was the ghost."
Marco didn't respond immediately. He was processing Lucas's demeanor—so calm, so disturbingly rational.
Lucas added with a faint smile, "And you... When I saw your expression as you woke, I knew. Your fear was genuine. A ghost wouldn't look like that."
Then, incredibly, he smiled wider. "Don't worry, I'm not the type to kill without reason."
...
[1,036 people are watching the player's live broadcast. 98 viewers have sent gifts. Earnings: 67 points.]
In the gaming world of Thriller Cruise, Marco—real name Elliot—was a legend. A tactician whose dungeon survival rate was among the best. His intellect score? A terrifying 95. Many called him the human computer.
Natalie, on the other hand, had just skyrocketed to fame this month. Her appearance, charisma, and skill placed her firmly as #1 on the newcomer chart.
Lucas? A newcomer with just one dungeon clear.
No one gave him a second thought.
[Player Lucas, please continue to work hard. Your current viewership is only 1% of Natalie's.]
"Wow," someone in the chat said, "Natalie broke 100,000 viewers in under ten minutes."
"She deserves it. She's got the looks, the brain, and the skill. No surprise."
...
But then the atmosphere shifted.
Lucas had silently gotten up in the night. No hesitation. No warning. He ended Nathan with one decisive stroke.
The audience was stunned.
And when he held the knife to Marco's throat next, the buzz turned into an explosion.
[13,650 people are now watching Lucas's live broadcast. 653 gifts sent. Earnings: 653 points.]
"Wait… can he do that?"
"He's not technically wrong. Players from the same camp can revive. Strategically, it makes sense."
"Yeah, but who has the guts to do something like that?!"
"He's a madman. That's not strategic thinking. That's a psychopath at work."
[23,495 viewers are now tuned in. 2,560 gifts sent. Earnings: 2,560 points.]
[Player Lucas's popularity is skyrocketing. Please continue your performance~]
...
Marco swallowed hard. The sound echoed louder than he expected.
Lucas didn't even glance at him anymore.
After eliminating the hidden ghost among them, Lucas's entire posture had changed.
He finally looked... at peace.
That was the scariest part.
"AHHHHHHHH!"
A shriek tore through the silence like a knife through silk. Then came a loud thud, followed by something scraping against the wooden floor.
Marco snapped upright. The scream was real. It wasn't a hallucination or memory.
He scrambled off the bed. "I'll go see what happened!"
Lucas stepped forward, blade already back in hand. "I'm going with you."
Marco whirled. "Hold up! No more rash actions. We check first before you start swinging that knife again!"
It was clear Lucas's earlier move had rattled Marco deeply. The suddenness of it all... the efficiency... the sheer logic of murder.
Lucas nodded seriously. "Of course. I'm a reasonable man."
...
They opened the door to the corridor and froze.
A woman was being dragged along the floor by her ankles. Her white dress was soaked in blood, and her hair covered most of her face.
The attacker was hauling her toward Room 202—the next room over.
Her fingers clawed at the floorboards, leaving behind long red trails.
She writhed and kicked, screaming so loud her voice echoed down the corridor.
"Help! Please—someone help me!!"
Marco's instincts took over.
"STOP!" he bellowed, eyes blazing.
In a fluid motion, he drew a playing card from his sleeve and flicked it toward the attacker.
It sliced through the air like a razor, embedding into the man's wrist.
He howled in pain and let go.
The woman immediately rolled toward Marco, trembling, gasping.
He knelt beside her, helping her up. Her face tilted up toward him—wet with tears, red with fear.
It was Natalie.
"Natalie?!" he gasped.
The man who had dragged her, still clutching his bleeding wrist, shouted in rage:
"She's a ghost! Don't believe her—kill her! Kill her now!"
Lucas's posture immediately shifted. He stood up straighter. His muscles tensed. His grip on the knife tightened.
The relaxed air from earlier vanished.
Marco noticed. His heart dropped.
"Lucas, wait—don't jump to conclusions!" he called out, stepping between the two.
"Let's hear both sides out first! Don't kill unless you're absolutely sure!"
Lucas's eyes were locked onto Natalie.
His fingers slowly rubbed along the kitchen knife's edge.
His expression was unreadable.
Just like before.
...
To be continued.
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