The moment Lucas's danger assessment activated, glowing text appeared in front of his eyes:
[Natalie: Intermediate Danger]
[Ivy: Intermediate Danger]
Lucas didn't strike.
It wasn't because Marco stopped him. It was a calculated decision.
Natalie's scream had been loud—piercingly loud. Loud enough that anyone in the surrounding rooms should've heard it. But not a single door opened. No one came to check.
That silence wasn't natural.
If he made a move now, there was a good chance another ghost might take advantage of the chaos. The risk was unacceptable.
Lucas took a quiet breath, eyes sharp. He would stay still. Let them panic. Then, take them out one by one. Safely. Precisely.
...
Marco noticed Lucas hadn't attacked.
He let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding and turned his attention to the real-time mess before him.
Natalie stood crying, her shoulders trembling, her hair a disheveled halo. Her large eyes, glossy with tears, seemed to beg for understanding.
The live broadcast viewers were immediately moved.
"She's so innocent-looking. No way she's a ghost!"
"I can't believe Ivy would do something like this..."
Marco's mind wavered for a second.
He clenched his fist, then cleared his throat. Rationality must come first.
"Alright," Marco said, his voice low but calm. "What exactly happened?"
Natalie lunged forward, grabbing Marco's arm like a lifeline. "I… I was sleeping…" she sobbed. "And I heard this... this banging sound."
Lucas stood silently behind Marco. As Natalie pressed against Marco for safety, she brushed Lucas's arm.
Without missing a beat, Lucas stepped aside, gently rubbing the contact point. His face betrayed no emotion.
"I was so disoriented," Natalie said. "But then I looked over and—" Her voice caught in her throat. "I saw Ivy standing there... holding a golf club stained with blood! Wu Wu… she… her head was smashed in on the bed!"
The girl couldn't go on.
She broke into hysterical sobs, burying her face into Marco's shoulder.
It was a convincing display—terrified, trembling, helpless.
Marco's expression tightened. He turned to face Ivy, whose face had twisted into outrage.
"You lying little witch!" Ivy shouted. "You killed her and now you're pinning it on me?!"
Her throat bulged with tension, eyes wide.
"She's lying!" Ivy screamed, pointing at Natalie. "She's playing you all! I woke up and saw her covered in blood!"
The tension in the corridor grew unbearable.
"Look at his hands…" Natalie whispered.
The words sent a shiver through Marco and Lucas.
Both men looked at Ivy's hands instinctively.
Ivy followed their gaze. She looked down…
And froze.
In her grip was a golf club.
Bloodied.
Speckled with pieces of flesh.
For one long moment, Ivy just stared.
Then her eyes widened in horror. She dropped the club as if it burned her.
Clang!
"W-Why… Why do I have this?!" Ivy gasped. "I didn't… I didn't do it! This doesn't make sense!"
"I don't remember picking it up! I swear! She must've—she's tricking all of you! She's the real ghost!"
Even Ivy's voice now held a faint edge of disbelief. It was as if she no longer trusted her own memories.
And then—a low chuckle broke the tension.
Everyone turned.
At the far end of the corridor, standing just outside Room 204, was a blond-haired man. His angular face was sharp, and his arms were crossed over his chest.
"Isn't it obvious? Ivy's the killer, and Natalie's human. It's all crystal clear."
He sneered, locking eyes with Marco.
"Don't tell me, Marco—you still can't figure this one out?"
Marco's brows furrowed. Despite what the man said, he didn't come to conclusions easily.
He turned the entire situation over in his mind. To be honest, he trusted Ivy more. Her panic seemed authentic. But the club in her hands… there was no excuse. No explanation.
He sighed.
There were too many unknowns.
So Marco looked to the only other player who hadn't voiced an opinion.
"Lucas," he said. "What do you think?"
For a moment, the corridor fell into silence.
Everyone turned toward Lucas.
He still held his kitchen knife, calm as ever.
"Separate them," Lucas said. "It doesn't matter who the ghost is. Just don't let either of them near anyone else."
Marco's eyes lit up.
"Yes. That's exactly the approach I wanted. Smart. Safe. Controlled."
Even Marco had to admit—he was surprised. Lucas, who had previously made such a bold and brutal move, was now suggesting something so measured.
He's... actually normal?
That realization stunned him.
Even the players watching the broadcast began to shift their views.
"This newcomer is logical," someone typed. "No wonder Marco listens to him."
"Maybe he really doesn't kill recklessly after all..."
...
Natalie nodded rapidly.
"Yes! Yes, that's fine! As long as I don't have to be near him, I'll do anything!"
Ivy, meanwhile, was still staring at the bloodied golf club in horror. It was as if she couldn't hear anything around her anymore.
The blond man at the door scoffed again.
"You're all too soft. Next time, you'll be dead before you even notice."
He cast a glance at Lucas, eyes full of disdain, then slammed his door shut with a heavy thud.
...
Back in Room 201, there was an empty bed.
Marco quickly proposed that Natalie sleep in their room instead.
Lucas didn't object.
As they walked back down the hallway, Natalie glanced around nervously.
"The waiter said we couldn't switch rooms. Are we breaking a rule?"
"Just don't let the staff notice," Marco answered casually.
Once inside, Lucas returned to his bed without a word.
He lay down and shut his eyes, unfazed. Marco, meanwhile, started telling Natalie what had happened earlier—about Nathan, about Lucas, and about the kitchen knife.
Her eyes went wide with understanding.
"I see! I believe you two," she said, "you're the good ones!"
That sentence made Marco hesitate.
For some reason, her trust made him feel guilty.
Nathan's body—sheets, quilt and all—had already been tossed into the restroom earlier. Out of sight. Out of mind.
Soon after, both Natalie and Marco drifted into sleep.
But Lucas...
Lucas did not sleep.
...
He turned over in silence.
Sat up.
And rose to his feet.
The live chat watching him immediately stirred.
"Oh no. What's he doing now?"
"Don't tell me he's going for her?!?"
Lucas crept toward Natalie's bed.
She didn't stir.
The knife was already drawn. Its cold tip grazed her throat.
He exhaled slowly.
"Now that they're separated… it's the perfect time."
Marco would only awaken to a loud disturbance.
Ivy was alone in her room, harmless for the moment.
There would be no danger.
Lucas's inner reasoning was calm, detached, clinical.
This wasn't malice.
This was optimization.
Every player's danger level had been marked "intermediate." There was no clear way to tell friend from foe. That meant every step had to be taken with precision—and if needed, ruthlessness.
Natalie stirred.
A chill on her neck.
Eyes opened—
Only to see Lucas's face.
A hand clamped over her mouth.
He held her down, silent and firm.
Her eyes went wide with panic.
And Lucas—his smile widened in the darkness.
Just like before.
: ???
: WHAT IS HE DOING??
: I'm speechless.
...
To be continued.
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