Before Lucas's split-screen broadcast, silence hung heavy.
Tens of thousands of players stared blankly at their monitors, the scene on-screen too bizarre to process. The escaped villager's death, the offering of flesh, and Lucas's cold yet decisive actions—all of it left a tension that no one dared break.
At last, someone whispered into the scrolling barrage of comments:
"I have this strange feeling… Could it be that the NPCs in the Verne dungeon see Lucas as a normal, functioning person, but to everyone else watching… he looks completely insane?"
Dozens of viewers instantly agreed.
"Yeah, exactly! The villagers treat him like one of their own, but to us, it's like watching someone who's lost his mind."
"I don't think the hidden mission was supposed to go this way. Look at his past runs—every dungeon he touches turns upside down!"
"Right. In the last dungeon he joined, the entire worldview collapsed. The system clearly didn't predict this kind of outcome."
"Wait… you can actually collapse the worldview of a dungeon?? That's not even supposed to be possible!"
"Tsk tsk. The developers definitely didn't plan for someone to twist missions like this. But Lucas always finds another solution… something broken, something terrifying."
"What's his live stream number? I need to follow this guy. Forget the other players—Lucas might be the biggest villain in the entire competition!"
"Villain? He's already a monster. Remember, Lucas qualified for the Thriller Contest by surviving five dungeons. People still doubt his skill? Watch carefully. He'll show you why."
System prompts flickered across the screen.
[A risk assessment is being generated based on the host's own strength…]
[Bodies of Mining Town villagers: No Danger.]
Lucas narrowed his eyes. The town alarm still blared, its shrill warning echoing through the streets.
"There are still intruders…" he muttered. His mind replayed the scene he'd witnessed the night before—pipes stretching like veins through the Lighthouse. "If others crawled in through different channels, it means something down below is spiraling out of order."
The prison guard beside him glanced at the prompt on her black box and smiled with grim satisfaction.
"I eliminated an intruder and earned additional satisfaction," she said proudly. "Villager Jason, I'll report your contribution to the superiors!"
Her tone carried genuine appreciation now. For the first time, she looked at Lucas with respect, as if she had finally recognized him as useful.
"Good work," she said. "Now return to your home. It isn't safe to linger outside any longer."
Lucas gave a small nod and turned as if to leave. His footsteps echoed softly on the stone floor as he walked some distance down the corridor. Then—he stopped. Quietly. Deliberately.
Behind him, the prison guard remained at the pipe's edge, focused entirely on her device. She tinkered with the little black box, tapping commands, completely absorbed. She didn't notice the way Lucas had turned back, his gaze sharp, his movements slow.
Beep! Beep! Beep!
A new alert popped up on the small black box. The guard pressed her thumb against the interface.
Beep!
Her body stiffened. Her voice came out hollow, stripped of humanity.
"Unit 6120. Position confirmed at the food factory pipe mouth in Verne Town. Preparing to seal the pipeline."
She withdrew her hand, sighed heavily, and whispered under her breath.
"The pipeline… it's really going to be closed."
Her expression hardened with reluctant resolve. Opening the black box again, she revealed a hidden mechanism: a small recessed button. She pressed it.
With a grinding metallic roar, the walls of the pipe began to shift. The wide opening constricted, slowly but surely, until the passage sealed entirely. The last vestige of escape or intrusion was gone.
The prison guard's face was dark, her eyes full of something Lucas had rarely seen on one of these emotionless enforcers—regret.
Lucas's grip tightened on his kitchen knife. He leaned against the wall, silently approaching from behind.
"Is closing the pipeline… actually bad for the prison guards?" he wondered aloud in his mind.
The woman turned at last, a final glance at the sealed pipe burning into her memory. As she pivoted, she almost collided with Lucas.
Her eyes widened. "How did you—"
The question never finished.
The blade fell.
Blood spattered the wall as Lucas tore the mask from her face. He inhaled deeply, drawing in the metallic tang of fresh air mingled with the woman's last breath. He crouched by the body, knife still dripping.
"Where should I begin…?" he muttered, his tone disturbingly calm.
He raised the knife and brought it down with brutal precision. From forehead to abdomen, the prison guard's body was split, carved open without hesitation. Blood and bone spilled in grotesque detail as Lucas worked. His hands dug into the remains, searching, probing with methodical patience.
Finally, his fingers closed around something solid. He yanked his hand free, flesh and gore dripping from his palm.
There it was.
Though caked in blood, the object's form was unmistakable. Lucas's lips curled into a satisfied smile.
"Found it…"
He wiped his hands with a torn piece of tablecloth, discarding the bloodied rag without care. With knife in hand and treasure secured, he strode out of the food factory.
The sirens had faded into silence. The factory was empty.
"Have all the town's pipelines been shut?" he murmured, eyes narrowing.
Out on the deserted street, the night air felt strangely heavy. Lucas tilted his head, glancing upward. Surveillance devices lined the walls, their little red indicator lights dead. One by one, every eye that had watched the villagers went dark.
Lucas's shoulders eased. He stretched his neck and exhaled.
"I knew it…" he said with quiet satisfaction.
The players watching his stream erupted.
"Knew what? WHAT DID HE KNOW?!"
"What's going on? Tell us, damn it!"
Meanwhile, the home screen of the competition had been broadcasting the perspective of Xu Wenhua, another rising player. The clown-faced host, narrating with theatrical enthusiasm, suddenly stopped. He pressed one gloved hand to his ear, listening carefully to his feed.
Then he smirked, turning back to the camera.
"Ah, audience friends! We've just received fresh feedback. Seventy-five percent of you would rather watch Lucas instead of our current highlight."
The scrolling comments exploded with agreement.
"Yes, yes! Switch to Lucas!"
"He's insane but fascinating!"
"I don't care about the others. Give me the madman!"
The clown paused dramatically, letting the anticipation rise.
"Of course… we always respect the will of the majority!"
The home screen flickered. Xu Wenhua's perspective vanished. Replacing it was Lucas, his figure cutting a lone silhouette against the eerie streets of Verne Town.
The clown's voice lowered, almost reverent.
"I take back everything I said earlier about him. Lucas is not just skilled. Lucas is the single most terrifying newcomer I have ever seen."
On the streets, Lucas moved calmly. The prison guards were gone. Every house was sealed shut, curtains drawn, doors bolted. Radios crackled from within homes, repeating new announcements over and over.
"All villagers of Verne Town, please remain indoors."
"Do not leave your homes under any circumstance."
"If you witness suspicious activity, report immediately through your intercom device."
"Remember, intruders endanger the safety of all. Your cooperation is required."
Lucas stood in the middle of the street, listening, but unmoved.
Minutes passed. No guards came. No one confronted him.
"I openly defied the broadcast," he thought aloud. "Yet no prison guards appeared to take me away."
The ever-present unease he had felt since stepping into Verne Town—the oppressive pressure that shadowed every breath—finally loosened.
"Closing the pipeline really is a bad thing for the prison guards."
For Lucas, that realization was worth more than gold.
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