Things took an unexpected turn.
It wasn't only the four captured players on stage who looked bewildered—even the woman in the red dress, who usually carried herself with unshakable confidence, froze in surprise.
Then, after a brief pause, her lips curled into a wide smile.
"Good. Very good!" she declared with exaggerated cheer, clapping her hands twice in satisfaction.
Her voice rang across the square:
"Let us pay our highest respect to this villager who risked his life to expose the last hidden intruder among us!"
At her words, the entire square erupted into applause. Prison guards clapped stiffly. Villagers joined in eagerly, their faces brimming with admiration and gratitude. All eyes turned toward Lucas, their expressions filled with reverence.
Lucas responded with a sheepish smile, bowing his head slightly as if humbled by their praise.
---
The Little Girl Taken
Amid the roar of applause, a prison guard moved swiftly to Lucas's side and seized the little girl by the arm. Without resistance, she was dragged toward the stage.
From beginning to end, the girl's face betrayed no emotion. No tears, no protests. She allowed herself to be taken as though she had expected this moment all along.
When she reached the platform, the faces of the four kneeling players twisted with despair. Anger, pity, and helplessness swirled together in their eyes.
The applause died down, replaced with heavy silence. Lucas slipped back into the crowd, vanishing as if he had never stood out at all.
The woman in the red dress beamed with satisfaction. "Then," she announced, "the elimination of the genetic virus may begin."
---
Laughter in Desperation
The prison guard forced the girl to her knees. With an expressionless face, he detached the thin iron rod from his long white staff. The sharp end gleamed under the light.
The girl bowed her head, her frail shoulders trembling.
And then—
Cluck. Cluck.
Her soft giggles broke the silence. They grew louder, sharper, until her laughter filled the square.
The innocent laughter of a child rang out in the midst of death, and it was horrifying.
The prison guard froze, startled. The woman in the red dress frowned, her perfect composure cracking. All eyes—guards, villagers, and prisoners alike—fixed on the girl.
"Hehehe~"
The little girl lifted her head slowly. Her smile was wide and cheerful, showing small tiger teeth. But her words chilled the blood of every villager:
"It doesn't matter if I die. I'm not afraid at all anymore!"
Her gaze swept the crowd, resentful yet triumphant.
"Because yesterday… I quietly entered each of your rooms."
---
Panic Unleashed
The girl didn't even finish her sentence before the square erupted in panic. The meaning of her words was clear enough.
"What does she mean?!"
"Entered our rooms?!"
The villagers' hearts froze.
The little girl's voice grew higher, gleeful. "Why are we the only ones who get sick, while the people in the upper prisons live so well?"
Her grin widened into something maniacal. Tears streaked her cheeks, but they mixed with laughter.
"So I decided—if I have to be eliminated, then all of you should be eliminated too. Wouldn't it be fair if everyone was infected?"
Her words exploded like a bombshell.
The villagers gasped, clutching at their clothes and their faces. The fear of infection was so deeply ingrained in them that even the suggestion of contamination was enough to unravel their reason.
"It can't be…"
"Are we infected?!"
"No… no!"
The woman in red tried to wrestle control back. Her voice was sharp, commanding:
"Villagers, don't panic! The genetic virus isn't so easily spread!"
But before she could continue, the girl cut her off with mocking laughter.
"Feel it for yourselves! Haven't you already become more irritable? More restless? That's the first symptom!"
---
A Town in Chaos
The villagers immediately began to check themselves. Some clutched at their chests, others scratched at their skin.
And slowly, realization dawned.
They had been irritable. They had felt strange surges of restlessness. The more they thought about it, the more convinced they became.
Panic spread like wildfire.
The entire central square dissolved into chaos. Villagers screamed, pushing and shoving, terrified that they had already been infected.
The woman in the red dress slammed her fist onto the podium, her voice rising in fury:
"Calm yourselves! Do not believe her lies!"
But her words were drowned out by the noise. The authority she carried just moments ago evaporated.
The little girl's laughter rang out again, cutting through the madness.
"I did it! I infected all of you!"
---
A Horrific Death
The woman in red's face twisted with rage. Her eyes snapped toward the guard standing behind the girl.
"Kill her!" she ordered.
The prison guard pressed the girl's head down with one hand and raised the iron rod with the other. His expression was still cold, mechanical.
The rod descended—
PFFT!
But the strike never landed.
A sickening crack reverberated through the square. Warm liquid sprayed into the air, dripping across the girl's hair and face.
She lifted her hand, touched her cheek, and pulled it away—bright red.
"…Is it raining?" she whispered. Then she looked up.
The guard's eyes were wide with horror. His hands still clutched the rod, but his body had been torn apart. His frame had disintegrated into countless fragments, each piece of flesh and bone hanging motionless in midair.
The prison guard had been dismantled—taken apart as though he were nothing more than a machine.
Gasps rippled through the crowd. Then silence fell.
The entire square was frozen in shock.
---
A New Power
The system prompt flashed before Lucas's eyes:
[Modeling…]
[Risk assessment based on host's own strength…]
Town Staff: No danger
Skill Name: Dismantling
Type: Permanent Possession
Quality: Legendary
Attack Power: Unknown
Attribute: None
Note: When you understand the external and internal structure of an item, you can dismantle objects with the same structure.
Lucas blinked. His vision sharpened unnaturally. Every fiber of the guard's body was magnified before him—muscle fibers, bone structure, tissue connections. It was as if the world itself had peeled open to show its inner workings.
The prison guard's fragments fell to the ground with wet thuds. Among the pieces, an inconspicuous metal square clattered onto the bloodstained floor.
The little girl remained kneeling in the spreading pool of blood. She pressed a hand to a rusty badge pinned to her chest and slowly stood up.
Her voice was fierce, rising above the silence:
"Everyone is infected with the genetic virus! According to the lighthouse rules, that means total elimination. But—are you willing?!"
Her small body trembled, but her eyes burned with fury.
"I am not reconciled! I want to live! I don't care if my genes are good or bad—I just want to live!"
---
The Crowd Turns
Her words struck deep.
The villagers, who only moments ago were paralyzed with fear, now felt something else rising inside them.
Fear.
Anger.
Desperation.
And above all, the hunger to survive.
Their reddened eyes shifted toward the prison guards and the woman in red on the stage. No longer helpless victims, they looked like wild beasts cornered, ready to strike.
The balance of power in Verne had shifted.
The air grew thick, heavy with the scent of blood and the weight of rebellion.
Somewhere in the system interface, a new alert chimed softly.
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