Lucas looked down at the little girl with a blank expression, his hand loosely gripping the kitchen knife. The blade tapped rhythmically against the mouth of a porcelain vase, echoing in the silent house.
When…
When…
When…
Each metallic strike was steady, deliberate, and cold.
The little girl, no more than seven or eight years old, trembled violently. Her thin body shook as if each sound of the blade striking the vase chipped away at her fragile courage. She seemed desperate to make herself disappear, to blend with the vase as though becoming part of it would protect her from the man crouched before her.
Lucas waited patiently. His sharp gaze flicked occasionally toward her pale face, watching the way her lips quivered. He muttered to himself, almost absentmindedly:
"Is there no relevant task to trigger…"
He stood silently for a while, listening for the system's familiar mechanical voice. But there was nothing. No task. No prompt. No trap.
Relief washed across him, though his expression remained unchanged.
"It's not a system trap…"
Without hesitation, Lucas reached forward, grabbed the girl by the collar of her ragged shirt, and yanked her out of the vase. Her tiny body curled up instinctively, stiff like a statue. Lucas tossed her onto the ground with little care.
The girl landed hard on the wooden floor, gasping as the air was knocked out of her lungs. She looked up at him, her eyes wide with terror.
Lucas crouched down, resting the hand holding the kitchen knife casually on his knee. The sharp glint of the blade reflected in her tear-filled eyes.
Before he could even open his mouth, the girl broke down. The pressure of his presence, the cold weight of his gaze—it was too much. Her voice cracked, trembling with fear:
"I-I'm not a bad person! I don't want to infect you with the virus! I just wanted to hide here! Please… please don't kill me!"
Her sobbing plea lingered in the silent room.
But Lucas did not soften. His face betrayed no mercy, no kindness. His tone was flat, almost indifferent.
"Children are not dangerous creatures…"
The blade in his hand slid gently across his palm as though he were caressing it. The sight made the little girl flinch. Her eyelids twitched uncontrollably as she instinctively retreated backward, inch by inch.
In a desperate attempt to make him believe her, she blurted out everything about herself as quickly as she could.
"I'm from Tongqu Town… on the 86th floor," she stammered, her words tumbling over each other. "I… I ate the red meat in the hotel. My genes are too despicable… I can only stay on the 86th floor. That's the rule."
Her voice grew weaker and weaker as she spoke, until finally it was almost a whisper. Tears dripped down her cheeks, and she sobbed quietly:
"When the villagers in our town grow up, they all have to enter the lower lighthouse to provide red meat for the people above. The lower levels are chaos… death is everywhere. I didn't want to die, so I ran away… I ran into this prison."
Her frail little hands clutched at her knees, her small body shaking violently. Then she looked up again, her voice cracking, almost shouting through her tears:
"I didn't mean to bring the virus to Verne!"
The girl was terrified that Lucas would kill her. She clung stubbornly to the theory that her bloodline was tainted, that she was infected with the so-called genetic virus. She repeated herself again, desperate for him to understand:
"I don't want to spread the virus! I swear I don't!"
Lucas narrowed his eyes. His voice dropped to a low murmur.
"Is it because you ate it secretly…"
His words were not a question but an observation. His gaze lingered on her face, carefully watching. What he saw was not just fear and tension, but something else—anger.
His lips curved into the faintest of smiles.
"What are you angry about?"
The girl froze. Her timid, pitiful mask shattered, replaced by something darker. The innocence that had defined her face only moments ago vanished. Ferocity, raw and bitter, twisted her young features.
Her voice trembled, but not with fear alone.
"My genes are despicable… but it's not my fault!" she spat. "And yet, no matter what, I have to be slaughtered! For no reason at all!"
The anger in her tone was laced with despair and resentment.
Lucas's smile widened, genuine amusement glinting in his eyes.
"You are truly the most courageous person I have seen in this lighthouse."
The girl blinked, startled. She didn't understand. His words were soft, almost gentle, but there was something unnerving about them.
"You are standing at the edge of an abyss," Lucas whispered, his tone dangerously sweet. "Why don't you drag others down into the abyss with you?"
Her eyes widened. For the first time, they shone—not with tears, but with a dangerous light.
"Resentment is most useful only when it is vented…" Lucas continued.
Across the live broadcast, the players watching fell into stunned silence. None of them could form coherent words.
Then, breaking the silence, one of the spectators screamed furiously:
"Damn it! I told you! Don't let Lucas near children! Don't let him touch them!"
The chat exploded with memories of what had happened before.
"Remember when he went into the Orphanage dungeon? The difficulty spiked instantly!" another player ranted. "Everyone who entered afterward said it wasn't just the staff they had to outsmart. The kids themselves were trying to disembowel you!"
Marco collapsed, clutching his head in horror.
"It's over… it's over! That little girl… she's going to be corrupted by Lucas, isn't she?!"
Blue Kill, calm but clearly disturbed, tried to reassure him.
"Lucas just has a talent… for finding the dark side of children."
Marco snapped his head toward him, furious.
"What do you mean just?? That's terrifying enough already!!"
Blue Kill coughed awkwardly, turning his face away. He had no words.
Meanwhile, in the chat, one of the spectators was practically wailing.
At midnight, the system prompt finally appeared.
[System prompt: The fourth day of the qualifying competition has ended. The elimination list of players is as follows. Please continue to work hard for the remaining players.]
[Elimination list:]
[Contestant Elliot – overall score B+]
[Current remaining players in the finals: (5/19)]
"The time in the dungeon is always so long…" Lucas muttered, watching as the little girl slipped quietly into the house next door.
He stood, opened the gate, and stepped into the silent street. His eyes swept across Verne Town, scanning every corner.
"Sure enough," he murmured, "the monitoring still hasn't been turned on. Only one channel exists for the higher authorities to come down."
The villagers' manhunt had ended. He wondered idly what kind of harvest they had.
Despite everything, the villagers still abided by the strict timetable of Verne Town. At exactly ten o'clock, the lights were turned off. At midnight, the streets were silent—so silent it was suffocating.
Verne Town at midnight was absolute stillness. The most quiet night.
Lucas flicked the [Girl's Coin] into the air as he walked, catching it again with casual ease. His destination was clear: the pride of Verne Town—its food factory.
The players watching were baffled.
"What is he doing?"
"Is he really going to attack the food factory at night??"
"What's the point?? I don't understand!"
Inside the factory, not a single guard stood watch. The place was deserted.
"The manpower of prison guards is really stretched thin now…" Lucas sighed.
Moving silently, guided by memory, he passed through the outer halls and entered the deeper sections of the building. He soon reached the room where the large processing pipe loomed.
The floor was stained with dried blood. The body of the prison guard that had once lain there was gone. Only the crimson smears remained, ugly reminders of what had happened.
Lucas's eyes lifted to the massive pipe overhead. Its gaping mouth stretched wide like the jaws of some monstrous beast.
He slid the [Girl's Coin] back into his pocket and retrieved a small, square metal device from his coat.
Approaching the pipe, he pressed the device against its surface.
Beep!
A red scanning light swept across the pipe. Lucas adjusted the square carefully.
Beep!
This time, a prompt appeared on the device's surface:
"Verification passed."
With a soft click, the small black box opened, revealing hidden buttons inside.
Lucas pressed one.
With a low mechanical rumble, the enormous mouth of the pipe began to close.
His lips curled into a satisfied grin.
"It was successful…"
On the broadcast screen, players watching from around the world erupted in chaos.
Everyone was confused. Nobody understood what he had just done.
"What happened???"
"What did he just trigger??"
"Lucas… what the hell are you planning??"
The screen filled with question marks, confusion, and fear.
And in the silence of Verne Town, the pipe sealed shut.
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