I slowly opened my eyes. Darkness surrounded me. The blurry ceiling came into view—cracked wooden planks leaking a faint, chilly breeze. Outside, the wind brushed past the window panes, carrying the damp and cold scent unique to the night.
My eyes were damp. I reached up and touched them, realizing the tears hadn't yet dried. The memories were still vivid in my mind, cutting through like blades—my daughter's smile, her final letter, my gut-wrenching scream... Everything felt so clear, as if it had just happened.
"He's awake!" Lucy called out in surprise.
My mind was still groggy, but I quickly realized I was no longer in the woods. I was in the lookout cabin—our temporary base, on the second floor of the wooden structure.
Kevin rushed up first. "You finally woke up! You scared the hell out of us."
I tried to prop myself up. My throat was dry and hoarse. "Did we... win?"
"Sort of," Minghao replied with a forced smile. "They didn't catch up again. We managed to hold on to some of the coins."
Lucy stepped closer and spoke softly, "They saved you."
I turned my head in confusion and saw two people standing in the corner of the room.
Number 13 and Number 15.
13 gave a small nod, his expression complicated. "If it weren't for him stepping in, you'd still be lying in the grass." As he spoke, he glanced toward the silent 15.
The man stood quietly, saying nothing. His cap was pulled low, hiding his face.
"He drove off both Shura and Ron by himself," Lucy said, admiration in her voice.
I stared at 15 for a long moment. He just lifted his eyelids and gave me a look—one that seemed to see through everything. He said nothing, no expression on his face.
"...Thank you," I said quietly.
He remained silent, turning to walk toward the window, standing there like a shadow, merging with the night.
"He's always like that," 13 said flatly. "Doesn't talk much, but he knows exactly what he's doing."
I nodded, my heart heavy with mixed feelings.
Sitting in the corner of the cabin, I gazed silently out the window into the night. Though we were safe for now, a weight pressed heavily on my chest. The memory I had buried deep inside kept slicing through my mind like a blade.
"Are you okay?" Lucy approached gently, her voice soft and cautious.
Kevin came over too, frowning at the look on my face. "You thinking about something? I've never seen that much emotion in your eyes."
I gave a strained smile and didn't answer directly. Instead, I asked, "Why were you all sent to prison?"
The air froze for a few seconds.
Everyone went quiet, their gazes shifting uneasily. It seemed no one was ready to reopen old wounds, but after what we had just been through, the distance between us had started to fade.
Lucy lowered her head, thinking for a moment. When she spoke, her voice was calm—almost cold.
"I killed someone. With poison."
Everyone was shocked.
"My stepfather. He didn't just abuse me—he nearly killed my mom. No one would believe me. The police didn't help. I mixed something into one of his regular medicines. He drank it and died. I admit it—I did it. But I don't regret it."
She traced her finger slowly across the table, as if reliving the moment. "I just wanted him to 'sleep' for a while... but in the end, I decided to end it completely."
Minghao rubbed the back of his head, looking a little embarrassed.
"I... I was just a food delivery guy."
Everyone blinked.
"One time, I saw someone stealing a car during a delivery. I tried to stop him. The guy fell and got hurt, then accused me of assault—and even said I was being racist."
"I had no connections, no money to fight the charges... so I got sentenced. Before I got locked up, I still believed that being a good person meant you'd be okay."
He gave a small smile, bitter. "But after coming in here, I realized: people like us—'ordinary' people—don't count for much."
"I used to work customer service—at a funeral home."
"Every day I dealt with grieving families, set up services, prepared the bodies... Then one day a client came in and asked me to help change the name on a corpse. Said it was his brother. He wanted his older brother to take the fall and go to jail, so he could inherit everything."
Kevin paused, then continued:
"I refused. But somehow, the corpse's identity got switched anyway—using my login credentials. I had no proof to clear myself. I was arrested as an accomplice."
He sighed. "Sometimes I think maybe I do have that power. The power to swap lives. The living become the dead. And the dead... keep on living through someone else's name."
His voice trailed off. His eyes were vacant, as if he could see the joke fate had played on him.
Number 13 sat in the corner, twirling a silver pen in his fingers.
"I've killed someone," he said coolly.
Silence fell.
"A criminal. He broke into my sister's dorm with a knife. I shot him dead. When the police arrived, I didn't run. I stood there and handed over my gun."
"But that man had connections. The case was twisted. They said I acted with intent—it became 'vigilante justice.'"
"They didn't care that I saved someone. All they cared about was whether I had followed the proper procedures of 'justice.'"
He looked at me, eyes sharp as knives. "I'd pull the trigger again—for real justice."
15 remained seated, quiet. All eyes turned to him, but he only stared out the window.
13 said, "He doesn't talk much, but we know who he is."
"He's a veteran—recon in the military. The kind who rarely makes mistakes, and almost never speaks."
"During a mission, he found a gap in the intel. His team was ambushed. He was the only one who made it out alive."
Lucy added, "They said he had a mental breakdown... but really, he was always clear-headed. Just... no one wanted to hear the truth."
A brief silence lingered over the observation deck.
Everyone had just finished sharing their stories. The atmosphere was heavy and oppressive. I leaned back against my chair, traces of tears still clinging to the corners of my eyes.
I looked up, and my gaze instinctively fell on Player 15. He remained as silent as ever, sitting there like a mystery. But somehow, I felt—he could be trusted. Maybe it was his calm eyes, maybe it was the way he saved me just in time… I wasn't sure. But that feeling made me let down my guard.
I took a deep breath and broke the silence.
"We need to gather our intel now."
Everyone was taken aback for a second, then nodded. The air tightened again, and people shifted closer to one another, as if physical closeness could bring a sliver more safety.
"The werewolves—none of them have been eliminated yet," I said slowly. "That means there are still all five of them, hidden among us… or lurking in the dark, watching our every move."
Minghao frowned. "We didn't even get a good look at them. How are we supposed to find them?"
"We can't act recklessly," Player 13 chimed in first. Calmly, she added, "We can't afford any more impulsive moves. Tomorrow—during the next round of daytime voting—is when the real bloodbath begins."
"It's nighttime now. They probably won't act rashly, so we should keep our heads down and sort through what we know," Lucy said softly.
"And don't forget—there's still the Jester," I continued. "If he gets voted out, he wins."
"He's probably hoping we fall into chaos, turn on each other, then push the vote at the perfect moment," Minghao added.
"And the Blood Wolf," Player 15 said in a low voice. "Even if he's checked, he'll appear as a good guy. That's the most troublesome part."
Player 13 nodded. "So we need to do three things: First, survive tonight's possible attack. Second, look for suspicious behavior—no matter how small. And third, figure out who we can really trust and coordinate with when the sun rises."
I looked at Player 15, my tone firm. "I can say with one hundred percent certainty—Player 12 is a good guy."
He raised an eyebrow.
"12 was attacked by the werewolves in the first round. He didn't lie," I paused. "Because Lucy is the Witch—and I told her to use the antidote. So anyone who was aggressively denying 12's claim from the start is highly suspicious."
15 listened quietly, without interrupting. A flicker of agreement passed through his eyes.
He gave a slight nod. "I've been watching Player 2. He was the first to claim that players are only eliminated when their collars are destroyed. But that mechanic was never mentioned in the official rules. That detail is very suspicious."
My eyes lit up. "We're thinking the same thing."
"Besides him," 15 continued, "I'm also wary of Shura and Ron. They've been too calm… especially Shura. It feels like he's just waiting to see which way the wind blows."
I fell into thought for a moment, then spoke slowly. "I have a plan."
Everyone turned to look at me.
"In the next vote, we target Player 2," I said. "Whether he's a werewolf or something else—he's suspicious enough. More importantly—watch who defends him. That's when their positions will start to show."
15 looked at me, not responding right away. His eyes darkened slightly, as if weighing the idea.
After a few seconds, he spoke quietly. "...It's worth a try."
We locked eyes.
Both of us understood—
This wasn't just another vote.
This was a net we were casting.
And the moment someone moved the wrong thread—
the truth hidden in the shadows would begin to unravel.