Chapter 168: Fatal

Number One was not stupid, but he was far too easily distracted by words.

Having a background in corporate offices, he always enjoyed reading between the lines to decipher hidden meanings in the words of his colleagues or superiors. In a combat situation, however, such a habit was practically fatal.

Although Number Four, the fat man, had not yet shown any remarkable strategic intellect, his reflexes and timing were truly exceptional.

Whenever Number One zoned out, the fat man would immediately seize the opportunity to strike.

Twin spears of ice and fire thrust toward Number One's chest. Unlike Number One, who was still wasting time pondering whether killing someone might carry negative consequences, Number Four overthought very little and executed his moves with absolute decisiveness.

Ensure your own survival first; everything else could wait.

A blood feud had already formed between Number One and himself, making the probability of future cooperation virtually zero. Instead, each would undoubtedly harbor the desire to eliminate the other.

Therefore, striking first was the best offense.

The fat man's spear pierced Number One's flesh, making the suited man experience a long-forgotten wave of agony.

Throughout his journey, relying on his petty cleverness and not-so-weak combat prowess, things had been smooth sailing for him, with only a handful of occasions where he had faced adversity.

As the intense pain surged directly into his brain, Number One's eyes widened, and muffled, agonizing moans escaped his lips.

"You act humble on the surface, yet you constantly belittle others. I'm guessing your identity is Arrogance." Number Four panted heavily, driving his battle spear deeper into Number One's body. "Well, looking at your expression, I must have guessed right."

"In the beginning, you possessed no clues; the only valuable thing you had was your identity."

"So, now you can go die!"

A somewhat ferocious expression twisted the fat man's features as he swung his twin spears, tearing Number One into two separate halves. A substitute doll dropped to the floor, but another onslaught immediately followed, obliterating Number One completely.

After finishing the kill, the blood-soaked and bruised fat man glanced around. Just because he had been a step slower, he had been forced to fight desperately for his life, while the others could comfortably stand by and watch.

What terrible luck.

And to this day, he still had no idea what purpose this room served.

Less than half an hour had passed since the game began.

Yet a life had already been claimed.

With a total of seven people, if deaths continued at this rate, everyone would be wiped out in three and a half hours at most.

Of course, theoretically, people wouldn't die that quickly. Once the scramble for the rooms concluded, everyone slipped back into a brief period of peace. Wu Hui considered how to trade with the others while ensuring he wouldn't be swindled. He put away all his notes because, after much deliberation, he felt those hints were unreliable.

Perhaps he should try guessing the corresponding deadly sin for each person.

As of now, Wu Hui still had no idea what his identity as Wrath was supposed to accomplish. Sitting cooped up in a room would yield no results, so he had to push the door open and take action.

Now that the peaceful phase had begun, theoretically, there shouldn't be any further disputes. Up to this point, they hadn't encountered any dangers within the scenario other than the players themselves.

The hallway, the rooms, and the initial lobby.

The entire environment was just this size. With seven people—no, six people now—willing to search earnestly, this place could be turned upside down in no time.

Wu Hui took the initiative to leave his room and began searching for clues. The second person to step outside was Number Six, the middle-aged man. Having previously dropped a single remark that distracted Number One and objectively assisted Number Four, he now appeared rather unenthusiastic. He exchanged no words with Wu Hui whatsoever, choosing instead to search independently.

Yet, the two of them were still forced to share a portion of their findings.

Number Six had fished out a portrait from beneath a table in the lobby.

The content of the portrait seemed insignificant, but it bore another line of small text:

"The arrogant shall suppress all who provoke them and ignore the rest."

Mhm... Both Wu Hui and the middle-aged Number Six fell into deep thought. They exchanged a glance, and ultimately, together, they hid the portrait in an even more secluded spot.

Information was a resource; the fewer people who possessed it, the more valuable it became.

Therefore, in a game like this, concealing information securely was of paramount importance.

While the two of them were taking action, the others also concluded the exploration of their respective rooms and stepped out to communicate. Only Number Four, the fat man, remained holed up inside.

Entering the other rooms was technically possible; the doors could not bar anyone out. But stepping inside was tantamount to declaring oneself an enemy of the room's owner. Thus, no one had been reckless enough to do so just yet.

A new unwritten rule had formed.

Compared to the previous fragile order centered on avoiding conflict, the current theme was information—concealing the intelligence one had gathered while probing for what others had amassed.

One could choose to trade, resort to mutual deception, form alliances, or capture someone and interrogate them.

Wu Hui considered the prospect of trading with others; having everyone show their room's oil paintings to one another might actually be mutually beneficial.

Then again, perhaps not. The moment a trade concluded might just be the exact moment bloodshed began. Monopolizing information could grant a massive advantage in the upcoming stages of the game. Even Wu Hui felt compelled to compete, wondering if someone might eventually propose bringing all the oil paintings out into the open for everyone to examine.

If that happened, it might actually work to his advantage. If Wu Hui and Number Six were the only ones who had laid eyes on the missing oil painting, that secrecy would constitute an edge.

It was a pity that for the time being, no one was willing to stick their neck out as the first to propose it. Furthermore, Number Six was just as cunning as Wu Hui, sitting quietly with zero intention of speaking up.

Everyone hoped to outmaneuver the others in the shadows, and the natural result was that nobody managed to trick anyone at all.

When clever people congregated, it often made everyone appear less than brilliant. The primary issue was that this game provided far too little information; no one knew what would happen next, nor did anyone know how the Overlord intended to play this game.

They could only rely on their own speculations, and by the end of those speculations, they might all be entirely wrong.

In other games, they were players.

But in the Overlord's game, they were merely toys.

"It seems I need to consider other plans." Wu Hui tapped the temple of his glasses, his gaze brimming with contemplation.

Nearby, for reasons unknown, Number Two's complexion was abysmal. Although she had maintained a cold, keep-away-from-me demeanor right from the start, she now looked on the verge of flying into a rage.

It likely had to do with the information she had acquired—most likely nothing pleasant.

One didn't need to be exceptionally bright to figure that out; everyone present could see it. Wu Hui felt a slight urge to peek into her room, yet he had no desire to spark a conflict quite yet.

Well, whether it was the Smiling Round Spider or other clever individuals, Wu Hui included, none of them enjoyed engaging in direct combat. Even if fighting became necessary, it would always be reserved as a last resort.

Direct combat carried the possibility of failure—even the possibility of death. Moreover, no one knew how many hidden trump cards would be exposed in the process.

Besides, whatever information she held might not be all that crucial to him anyway.

Time slowly slipped away. Wu Hui stood at the threshold of his room, closing his eyes as he continued to think. Number Seven and Number Five had gathered together, forming what looked like an alliance. Though unreliable, it still offered some advantage.

Meanwhile, unnoticed by anyone, a few ants crawled across the floor and quietly slipped into the adjacent room.

[Author's Note: First chapter for today. I checked, and the approval rating on free platforms is decent, though there aren't many readers just yet.]