Chapter 170: Clever People

Number Six was undoubtedly a clever man. At forty years old, he appeared shrewd and worldly compared to the other young people.

He had realized that Wu Hui was using some method to extract information from others, but instead of making a fuss, he simply guarded his own secrets while approaching Wu Hui to make a trade.

"To ensure the reliability of this transaction, I have a prop," Number Six said, "which guarantees that both of us will tell the truth."

Such a prop would be utterly useless in typical combat games. However, in games orchestrated by a Master, it could achieve miraculous effects.

No one could ever be certain that the other person was not lying, nor could they even guarantee they wouldn't lie themselves.

"Very well." Wu Hui also wanted to get his hands on the information regarding Sloth. He knew Number Six wanted to exchange three pieces of information to avoid having his own identity guessed. Yet, even that narrowed down the possibilities.

No, he couldn't be sure. What if the other person was deliberately trying to mislead him?

Wu Hui had truly grown. Now, in a Master's game, he considered things quite comprehensively, unlike last time when he operated entirely from a perspective of pure logic.

No one was completely rational, and a clever person was likely to devise strategies specifically targeted at countering the optimal solution you chose.

Probabilities shifted constantly, and calculating everything completely was impossible. Therefore, one could only prepare for multiple contingencies. Had it been back when he first entered the game, Wu Hui would have been completely incapable of devising such multifaceted plans.

Indeed, his intelligence had increased by four points, and since intelligence comprised six distinct components, it was equivalent to a boost of twenty-four attribute points across the board.

It was undeniably a massive improvement.

The two exchanged information through the prop. Wu Hui told him the meanings of the three deadly sins: Pride, Envy, and Greed, and in return learned the identity of the final sin.

The information regarding Sloth was quite simple: do not seize anything, do not kill anyone, and survive until the end.

This... was actually quite difficult in its own right.

At the very least, Wrath, Gluttony, and Lust likely required one to slaughter everyone else present in order to be fulfilled. Envy and Greed fell into the uncertain category. In comparison, Pride and Greed—or rather, Pride and Sloth—seemed completely harmless to humans and animals alike.

Looking at the big picture, Wu Hui leaned toward the idea that they were meant to enact the Seven Deadly Sins rather than avoid them.

At least the outcome of enacting them would not be the worst possible scenario. The Master's purpose was to cause psychological distress to people rather than to kill them off. The latter was something the Black Death would do. Fundamentally, so-called players and humans were merely toys in the eyes of the demon gods. Regardless of which demon god it was, none of them actually took human lives seriously.

Some more precious toys might be kept around to play with a little longer, and if they broke, there might be a touch of regret.

But that was all.

"A pleasant cooperation." The middle-aged man stood up with a smile. "As a bonus, I'll offer you a hypothesis of mine."

"Everyone, at least on the surface, acts in direct opposition to the Seven Deadly Sins. Yet deep within their hearts, they harbor those very emotions."

Wu Hui did not think much of this hypothesis. After all, he was a person who remained completely calm both inside and out, having nothing whatsoever to do with Wrath. Therefore, this conjecture was most likely wrong. However, the idea that one's surface demeanor was the exact opposite of their assigned sin seemed plausible.

Sometimes, people found it very difficult to understand their own emotions.

Everyone remained in the house for a long time. The corpse of Number One on the floor was still exuding the scent of blood.

Time passed, and the sky gradually darkened.

A system prompt instructed everyone not to leave their rooms during the night.

At the same time, one person was randomly selected to be granted the ability to freely enter and leave other people's doors that night.

"Tch." Wu Hui frowned. He tried to look outside through the peephole, but saw only pitch black. Given this, someone was almost guaranteed to die tonight.

Randomly chosen or not, the system would certainly pick the person harboring the strongest murderous intent.

Though by now, who it would be hardly mattered.

The next morning, everyone faced the corpse of Number Five with utter nonchalance. They simply stepped inside, ransacked the room once more, and left.

There was no intention whatsoever of finding the killer. After all, what good would knowing do? Everyone here might have a motive for murder, and heaven knew how the Master had orchestrated things.

Wu Hui did notice, however, that the chests of both Number One and Number Five were hollowed out, clearly having been carved open by someone.

Had Gluttony made a move? Or was someone trying to make everyone *think* Gluttony had made a move?

He rose from beside the corpse and returned to his room to eat.

Number Six stared at the body of Number Five for quite some time in silence. "I suggest we hold another meeting."

"What would be the point of that?" Number Seven asked him.

"Fine, if you aren't willing, then forget it." Number Six did not persist at all, which ironically left Number Seven feeling as though he had missed out on something.

Wu Hui sat in his room, deep in thought as he gazed at a painting.

"These paintings can perhaps be interpreted as... mirrors."

"There is indeed a lack of decorations on the walls of the hall. The intention must be to hang all seven paintings there."

In a Master's game, if everyone always followed the optimal solution and cooperated, they could clear the level by sacrificing only a small fraction of their number, or perhaps none at all.

Precisely because of this, players ultimately ended up tormented by mutual slaughter and plotting against one another.

Of course, a small minority of people could comprehend the Master's true intent yet choose to play along anyway, even helping to plunge the entire situation into chaos. Such people were the ones truly suited to playing a Master's game.

Proceeding from this perspective, and considering how the group might rapidly clear the level if they chose to cooperate...

The key must lie within these paintings.

Every single painting actually depicted a demon.

They corresponded respectively to the Seven Deadly Sins: Pride to Lucifer, Greed to Mammon, Gluttony to Beelzebub, Sloth to Belphegor, Wrath to Samael, Lust to Asmodeus, and Envy to Leviathan.

The concept of the Seven Deadly Sins was not a particularly ancient one in Christian theology, and the association of the seven sins with specific demons was something later generations had cobbled together by matching demons to the roles one by one.

To hear Wu Hui tell it, it was somewhat far-fetched. Furthermore, he had already known the visual representations of the demons on the canvases beforehand, which was why he had previously claimed the content of the oil paintings was unimportant.

If one stripped away the text written on the paintings, the depictions of the demons themselves were relatively significant.

Wait a moment.

Wu Hui looked at the words on the paintings, recalling the earlier slips of paper, as well as the hypothesis Number Six had mentioned during the meeting.

Those slips of paper were not useful clues; they were likely distractions deliberately planted by the Master to obscure their vision, or, as he had suspected, traces left behind by other players who had been here previously.

What about the words on these paintings, then?

Were they genuinely tasks they were required to fulfill, or...

Yet another trap designed to distract and mislead?

He stared at the line of text written clearly across the top with a marker.

He took out the pen he had found earlier in his room and casually scribbled something over it. Although the handwriting differed, the ink possessed only the distinction of being old or new.

Thus, up until now, the Master had told them absolutely nothing of substance.

Everything was merely a misdirection manufactured to make them slaughter one another.