"...You are back? Ah no, my mistake, I should say you are finished?"
Ron closed his notebook then looked toward the front of his vision, where a girl was carrying a few folders of documents in her hand, her golden hair swaying gently in the light breeze.
If not for the short sword swinging in her hand, it could almost be said that Janeus was a girl stepping straight out of a fairy tale.
'Perhaps it is not entirely wrong for those monsters to always play the trick of kidnapping princesses, huh?'
That was definitely what Quân would think about, but Ron did not. Instead, he focused more on the folder of documents she was holding.
Ron's mind had already begun calculating various hypotheses, from information that could be related to the events to internal data, anything considered classified information was bound to be valuable.
"The code?"
Janeus coldly questioned Ron. He did not answer her but merely looked into the girl's eyes, leaving the conversation of the lips for the eyes to answer instead.
"..."
Janeus felt Ron's gaze, immediately taking the pile of folders and tossing them toward him. Ron swiftly caught every single one without missing a thing.
However, the first thing he perceived was not where to start reading this thick stack, but why there was so much information. It was only supposed to be information gathered from a single day, right?
Ron suspected that Janeus had not only retrieved the necessary information but had also found a way to extract the internal classified data of the train station. On second thought, Ron found it reasonable, after all, if needed in the future, he could still play a few deceptive tricks in the real world using that information.
But Janeus also knew that the fewer people who knew about classified information, the better, so this matter could be cast aside for now.
As for the main issue, Ron was still racing against time, or rather, racing against the ground.
Ron immediately opened the files and read through them, simultaneously using a fishing line to hand Janeus his own notebook, as handling minor tasks with one hand remained quite difficult after all.
...
...
I am Mooroe, the conductor of train code A3.
I am about to die.
I am transmitting a signal to the incident information receiver for Pegasus Station. If you are the person hearing this information, I hope you will continue to listen to my dying words.
Sadly, I will die right after everything concludes. This is the final piece of account I can provide.
There is an occult event, an occult event... that is incredibly bizarre.
Because of it, I am unable to transmit messages normally, forcing me to overcome the anomaly to deliver this broadcast.
Whether it manifested across the entire train or only at the conductor's cabin, I cannot recall clearly, or perhaps I have no inkling at all.
Alright, alright... I will state that I am uncertain about what transpired in the train cars behind me, I can only recount it like this.
That is...
There is a demon, there is only one demon. The person who clearly knows themselves to be the demon is the demon, while the other players are not demons.
The demon can utilize their own magic to kill people, ten seconds out of every ten minutes. Within those ten seconds, magic must be used to kill. If at least one human life is not taken... I am truly uncertain.
If the demon takes a life, they receive a mobile layer of protection that can be attached to anyone. Whoever possesses it will not die.
If a player kills a player, when the game concludes, they will face a penalty, though I am not entirely clear on the details...
If a player kills the demon, that player will transform into the demon.
All participants possess a train ticket. Losing the train ticket implies being a stowaway, which results in a penalty.
If the demon lacks protection, they will be deemed a criminal traveling on a fake ticket, resulting in a judgment of guilt.
After one hour, the train will reach the station, and the conductor will proceed to inspect the tickets of the participants.
But... whoever is listening to this, to this belated announcement, we, the two conductors, have absolutely no knowledge of any train cards, there are only identification cards.
And since I am not the demon, that leaves only the person beside me, Philip.
He has not killed me yet, but will wait until near the very end to do so, because the job still requires two people to bring everyone left alive back to the station.
Perhaps, after finishing this segment, I will be killed, but let no one place the blame on Philip. It was I who permitted him to live. Let no one bear resentment toward him, for God's sake... I have thought it through carefully. I am bound to die early anyway, it is just that this death is far too sudden.
I also leave behind in this place my final words for my family. That is- ...
Ron folded the paper shut. He did not look at the section following it, because he could not be the one to look at it at the very end.
Instead, Ron urgently rummaged through his coat pocket to pull out six different tickets, corresponding to the six seats Ron had booked.
He also took out the components from the firearm earlier, and he instantly understood a critical problem.
"...I am the demon?"