Horror :The Cautious Titan

Lucas smiled modestly, his voice calm and understated.

"It was only because I happened to modify the room allocation list that I came up with this method."

Mark waved his hand dismissively, the air between them relaxed and casual, like brothers chatting late into the night.

"Hey, no need to explain to me," he said warmly. "If our camp wins, your contribution will definitely be number one!"

Lucas looked slightly embarrassed, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Really?"

Mark nodded firmly, offering reassurance with an encouraging grin.

"Of course it's true!"

He leaned back lazily on the bed, without a hint of discomfort. Despite everything that had transpired, he didn't look injured in the slightest.

Lucas hesitated before asking, "So… Daniel is also a ghost?"

Mark gave an honest nod, not attempting to hide the truth.

"Originally, I wanted to take him out first," he explained casually. "But in the middle of our clash, I realized he was one of us—a teammate. So, we cooked up a little act together and framed Jason instead."

Lucas's face tensed as the pieces began to fall into place. "Then that means Jason… was a good person?"

Mark chuckled, clearly proud of the scheme he had devised.

"Exactly, brother. You'll meet the rest of our teammates later. Just remember—once you know who they are, come back and let me know. I wasn't around last night, and I'm still trying to figure everything out."

Lucas gave a slight nod. "Of course."

With the conversation winding down, Mark sprang up from the bed like a fish flopping from water. He moved toward the door, placing his hand on the handle with familiarity.

"I won't walk you out. If anyone sees you leaving, it might raise suspicion."

He cracked the door open just slightly and peeked into the hallway, carefully checking both directions.

"Corridor's clear. You're good to go now."

Lucas set down the half-finished glass of water on the bedside table.

Mark turned back around and smiled—

"Brother, you—"

Pfft—

The sentence was never completed.

The kitchen knife was far too sharp.

And when wielded against ghosts, it carved with deadly precision. No friction. No delay.

A crimson arc sprayed across the door.

On the carpet, half of Mark's body collapsed grotesquely, split clean in two.

Gululu—

His severed head rolled away slowly, leaving a dark red trail across the pristine white wool rug.

---

:Brothers, what the hell?! Is Lucas a human or a ghost?!

:Don't ask me, man. I'm more confused than ever.

:If he's killing ghosts, doesn't that mean he's human?!

:Or is this some kind of plan within a plan?!

---

Lucas wiped the blood off his face with a sleeve, stepped out, and quietly shut the door behind him.

Beside him, the door to Room 206 creaked open. A warm yellow light poured into the corridor like a soft triangle of safety, a stark contrast to the slaughter behind him.

Jasmine had heard the disturbance. She stood frozen at her doorway, peeking out in surprise.

Her eyes locked with Lucas's.

He stood there in silence—his body stained with blood, his shirt clinging to him in dark, wet patches. The hallway's sterile air was overwhelmed by the overwhelming, metallic scent of death.

Jasmine's eyes widened. Her body tensed, terror swallowing her whole.

[Player Jasmine was so frightened by player Lucas that her mental state took a hit. Mental value -5, -5, -5…]

She had just managed to recover her mental balance after the last ordeal.

Now, it was slipping away again—rapidly.

Her lips parted to scream—

But Lucas was faster.

He lunged forward, covering her mouth with bloodstained hands and shoving her backward into the room.

Thud!

The door slammed shut behind them.

Jasmine trembled uncontrollably, pinned against the wall, her eyes glistening with terror.

Lucas stared into her eyes calmly and lifted his blade, tapping the flat side against her waist.

He slowly unhooked the long whip coiled there.

"I already told you…"

"Good people don't open doors."

Why don't some people ever listen?

Lucas crouched slightly and began to reason, his tone frighteningly gentle.

"Mark was a ghost. I killed him."

"Which means—I'm human."

He slowly lifted his hand from her mouth.

[Player Jasmine believes Lucas is about to brutally kill her. Mental value -6, -6, -6…]

The moment her mouth was free, she screamed.

"Mark was human! You're the ghost! Don't try to twist reality! I'm not falling for your tricks!"

"Help! Murderer!"

"Somebody save me—"

Her voice echoed throughout the entire second floor like an alarm siren.

Lucas sighed and covered her mouth again.

"Sigh… Even though you're my teammate, your brain is really working against us."

Jasmine struggled fiercely, trying to scream, reason, or at least breathe.

Lucas leaned close—his face now inches from hers. His breath was warm and steady. Hers, short and erratic.

[Player Jasmine is on the verge of collapse from fear. Mental value -7, -9, -11…]

Lucas gave her a soft, almost regretful smile.

"For my safety… it's better if you can't talk for a while."

Jasmine's mind whirled in chaos.

What does he mean? Is he… human? Ghost? What is this twisted logic?!

But her thoughts were abruptly cut off—

—when the sharp pain struck like a lightning bolt through her chest.

---

Jasmine collapsed to the floor, her white dress now a canvas of crimson.

She stopped breathing.

Lucas crouched beside her quietly and straightened her dress, smoothing out every wrinkle like a caretaker.

"The texture of a good person…" he muttered.

"It really is different from a ghost."