POV: The Main Character (Caius Turner)
As I walked away on the main meeting hall the second I turned the corner near the bar outside the voting hall, I heard voices—his voice—and I paused. Just for a second. Long enough to realize who he was talking to.
Kara. The "doctor."
Desmond voice was lower than usual, as if even he knew this wasn't meant to be heard.
Desmond: "So… did you get it?"
Kara: "Yeah. I got the cop card."
I continued to listen.
Desmond: "Good. Since your ability works on dead people… this makes things easier."
Kara: "…Yeah. I felt guilty lying to everyone."
Lying?
Desmond: "its fine. Your card is important. The doctor dying early was unexpected."
Kara: "Yeah…"
Desmond: "Cheer up. It's not your fault. This game was never built on trust."
She gave a quiet goodbye and walked off. I ducked behind the hedge until her footsteps vanished down the path.
I stepped out.
Walked up to him slowly.
And with no hesitation in my voice, I asked.
"So what was that?"
He didn't flinch. Didn't lie. Just turned toward me with that unnerving calm.
Desmond said "I see. You overheard us."
He paused, studied my face, then gave a small sigh.
"I guess there's no point hiding it now. I can trust you."
My fists tightened.
Trust me? After what I just heard?
"That was Kara. She's not the doctor. She's a Fiend role."
The word hit like a slap.
I instinctively took a step back.
"A Fiend?" I asked. "So… she's a Mafia?"
He nodded once. Slowly.
"Technically, yes. If you consider the name But her role is… unique. She's not aligned to just one path. Just like myself"
I narrowed my eyes.
"Explain."
He leaned against the tree, voice steady, like he'd rehearsed this before.
"Kara's card lets her extract the identity—or more precisely, the role card—of a dead person. Once she gets it, she gains their abilities as her own. The last person who died—Detective Silas Dray—she now holds his card."
I stared at him.
"That means… she's pretending to be the doctor, but she's actually acting as the cop now?"
He nodded again.
"Exactly. And when she switches to a new dead person's card, the previous one disappears. It's a one-card memory."
My mind reeled.
That's how she had information. That's why no one suspected her. Because she was the doctor at first—until the real one died. Then she changed.
"So you knew? You helped her lie?"
He didn't answer at first. Then
"I'm not aligned to Civilians or Mafia. You know my role. The Penance. I enforce balance something like that."
I clenched my jaw.
"So what now? You let her keep jumping bodies like some scavenger?"
He looked at me calmly.
"She's a double-edged blade. The question is—who holds the handle?"
Silence hung between us.
I thought about the others—about the quiet faces in the meeting room, the ones I still couldn't read. About the corpses mounting, the votes swinging further from logic and deeper into chaos.
If Kara was taking on the Detective's card now, then she could see roles. She could be feeding that information to someone.
Or manipulating it entirely.
And worst of all—no one would suspect her. Because everyone still thought she was the doctor.
"Does she know I know?"
"No. And it's better that way. For now." He looked at me seriously. "She's useful. But unstable. Keep your distance."
I didn't answer.
Because in my gut, I knew—
she wasn't just unstable.
She was lethal.
And then he left just like that.
I quickly messaged Selene.
No reply.
Maybe she was busy. Maybe she didn't see it.
I waited. Watched the screen.
Still nothing.
I sent another message.
Still no reply.
My chest tightened.
Maybe it was what I said earlier.
Maybe I pushed her too far.
I shoved my phone in my pocket and walked. Aimless at first. Just to clear my head. But something didn't feel right. Not just the silence… but the way it lingered.
I passed by the fast-food place. A chair tipped over, the table wiped, but something caught my eye.
A bag. Familiar.
I stepped closer. No one around.
Selene's bag.
My breath caught as I crouched and opened it quickly, hands already trembling before I could register it.
Inside: Her phone. Wallet. Notebooks.
My eyes narrowed.
She'd never leave this behind—not without reason.
In just a second, everything clicked.
No message. No bag. No reply.
She was taken.
And not by chance.
No… this was intentional.
Calculated… It's the mafia
I clenched my fists and spun on my heel. I needed to find Desmond now. If anyone could help, it was him. He needed to know, and fast.
I rushed down the alley shortcut leading toward the west plaza when a figure stepped into my path.
A woman.
Pretty. Have long dress that looks like the 90s.
She gave a small, amused smile. "Whoa, what's the hurry?"
I froze mid-step.
She wasn't threatening—at least not on the surface. But something about her… something off. Her eyes, the way they didn't match her expression.
I didn't speak. Suspicion burned behind my gaze.
She raised a brow, folding her arms loosely. "Not much of a talker, huh?"
I forced my tone to sound casual, tight. "I'm in a hurry."
She didn't move. "Running from something? Or maybe toward it?"
"I don't have time for this," I said, trying to move past her.
She shifted slightly, not blocking me, but hovering too close for comfort. "You look like someone chasing after something important. Maybe even dangerous."
I didn't answer. Just kept walking. But I felt her gaze on my back like a loaded gun.
"I hope you find what you're looking for," she called out sweetly behind me. "Before it finds you first."
"But be careful…" Her voice dropped into something quieter, sharper.
"Sometimes the thing you're chasing is already two steps behind you."
A chill crept down my spine.
Not just from her words—
but from the certainty in her voice.
She knew something.
And then she said it.
"I can help you… if you want."
I stopped walking.
My steps froze mid-stride.
I turned slowly, wary. "What do you mean?"
She tilted her head, lips curled into something between amusement and mockery. "I don't know what exactly you're chasing… or who's got you in such a rush. But I can help you. Change your odds."
"Help me how?" I asked, keeping my voice low.
Without answering, she reached out and grabbed my wrist.
"Hey—"
I barely got the word out as she pulled me through the corridor, past the main food court section, and into the commercial wing of the building. Everything inside this structure had been designed like a self-sustained city—a maze of stores, lounges, even a mini theater.
She led me into a dimly lit clothing store, one I barely remembered noticing before. It was quiet, racks of jackets, different kinds of expensive clothes, and a mannequins creating shadows across the floor.
She yanked aside the curtain of a changing booth and shoved me inside.
Cramped. Silent. Surrounded by walls of fabric and hanging clothes.
I stumbled in behind her, tense, ready to pull away—
Until she turned and whispered something that made my blood run cold.
"By changing how your card works."
I stared at her.
"...What?"
She looked me dead in the eyes.
"No tricks. No riddles. I know what role you've got. And I know a way to shift the balance."
I stepped back slightly, instinctively.
"How the hell would you know that?"
But deep down… a part of me wanted something—fun.