Across the Capital, the broadcast continued without interruption.

Inside luxury homes, restaurants, transport stations, and public halls, people watched the game with growing excitement now that the first accusation had arrived.

Far away, in Sector 11, the atmosphere was very different.

The large public screen in the square still showed the game clearly enough for everyone gathered there to see the argument.

Among the crowd stood Kennedy’s wife, her face pale as she stared at the screen.

Beside her, her young son —barely seven years old —pointed upward, still not fully understanding what he had just seen.

"Mom... is Dad fighting?"

The question struck harder than the broadcast itself.

For a moment she could not answer.

Then she grabbed the boy’s hand immediately and pulled him away from the square.

He protested, confused, but she kept dragging him until they reached their small house nearby. She pushed him inside, locked the door, and stood there only long enough to steady her breathing.

Then she ran back.

Because no matter how painful it was, she still needed to see what happened next.

---

"Stop dragging me! Why are you even accusing me?"

Kennedy tried to pull his arm free, but the grip holding him remained firm.

The one dragging him —badge 1, the Sector 1 participant Tyler had already noticed earlier —did not loosen his hold at all. His expression stayed cold, almost irritated, as though Kennedy’s resistance itself proved guilt.

"I’m doubting you because I watched you," the man said sharply. "During the tree-cutting task, you barely focused on the work. Half the time you were looking around instead of cutting."

Only now did Tyler catch the man’s name from the AR identifier hovering faintly near his badge.

Dale.

Kennedy’s jaw tightened.

"I—I am not suspicious!" he snapped back, though his voice lacked its usual steadiness. "I was keeping an eye on people. That doesn’t mean anything."

"Lies."

Dale’s answer came immediately.

"Complete lies. You were watching because you weren’t working. You were searching for someone to turn into Jobless."

The accusation landed heavily because the game rules had already made everyone fear exactly that possibility.

Nearby workers who had been carrying tools now stopped entirely. Miners stepped out from the tunnel entrance. Hunters returned from the tree line. Even those near the river began approaching.

The clearing around the mine slowly became crowded.

Kennedy looked around, realizing too late that every eye now rested on him.

"No," he said louder, panic pushing into his voice. "You’re accusing me for nothing. You might be the Jobless yourself!"

That only made the surrounding silence sharper.

Tyler stood within the crowd, watching carefully without stepping forward.

He looked around instinctively.

Tansy and Rose were not nearby yet.

Victor was missing too.

Which meant they were still occupied with their assigned work elsewhere.

For the moment, Kennedy stood alone.

Then Tyler’s AR glasses flickered.

A small display window appeared directly before his eyes.

At the same moment, similar windows appeared for everyone else.

Even Dale and Kennedy stopped arguing when they noticed the system activating.

The display expanded.

[We have two suspects.]

The words hung clearly in vision.

Then names appeared beneath.

Who is the Jobless?

Chosen No. 1 — Dale

Chosen No. 55 — Kennedy

The clearing changed immediately. Because now the accusation had become official. Because they both accused eath other. The game itself had accepted the conflict.

More participants arrived while the display remained visible.

Tansy and Rose emerged from the forest edge together, both breathing slightly faster from clearly having come quickly after noticing system alerts.

Victor also arrived shortly after, awkwardly carrying a fishing rod almost taller than himself while following two others from the river side.

The system updated again.

This time both men’s faces appeared in projection— live images drawn from hidden surveillance angles Tyler still could not locate. Beside each face, short video clips played showing Dale dragging Kennedy and both shouting accusations.

Tyler glanced upward again.

Still no visible cameras.

Which only confirmed the obvious.

Everything here was monitored through systems hidden far better than ordinary optics.

The next line appeared.

[Vote for one.]

Who is the Jobless?

Option 1: Chosen No. 1 — Dale

Option 2: Chosen No. 55 — Kennedy

Option 3: Neutral

A timer immediately appeared beneath the options.

[300 seconds... 299 seconds... 298 seconds...]

A second warning followed.

[Vote before time ends.]

The pressure in the clearing changed instantly.

Now every participant was forced into decision.

Dale reacted first.

"Vote for him!" he shouted, pointing directly at Kennedy. "He wasn’t working properly. Everyone saw it!"

Kennedy’s face had gone visibly pale.

"No—vote him out!" he shouted back, though panic now made his voice uneven. "He’s lying!"

Dale did not stop.

"This guy didn’t even do his task properly. At least I was actually working!"

That line mattered because several nearby woodcutters immediately nodded.

Apparently Dale truly had been cutting wood visibly enough to leave witnesses.

The timer kept falling.

[220 seconds... 219 seconds... 218 seconds...]

The pressure grew heavier because no one wanted to vote wrong.

And yet doing nothing also carried danger if suspicion spread later.

Participants began whispering among themselves.

"He did look nervous."

"But nervous doesn’t mean Jobless."

"What if Dale is forcing this?"

"What if neutral vote gets punished?"

Tyler said nothing.

He watched both men carefully instead.

Kennedy looked frightened—but that alone proved nothing. Anyone falsely accused would fear death.

Dale looked too calm.

Not calm enough to prove innocence either.

But Tyler noticed something more subtle.

Dale never once looked worried about what would happen if he was wrong.

Instead Dale looked almost certain the system itself would reward accusation.

The timer continued.

[69 seconds... 68 seconds... 67 seconds...]

Now panic spread because most still had not voted.

The AR system waited silently.

Around Tyler, participants finally began making choices.

Hands lifted.

Selections were made through the glasses interface.

The last seconds vanished quickly.

[Voting ended.]

The display changed immediately.

Results appeared before everyone.

[No. 1 received 18 votes.]

[No. 55 received 19 votes.]

[Neutral received 4 votes.]

A ripple passed through the crowd.

Only one vote difference.

Kennedy’s face lost all remaining color.

The next line appeared.

[No. 55 is selected as Jobless.]

Then another line:

[Verifying.] 𝓯𝙧𝙚𝒆𝙬𝙚𝒃𝙣𝙤𝒗𝓮𝓵.𝙘𝙤𝙢

For one second nothing happened.

Then Kennedy collapsed.

No visible attack.

No weapon.

His body simply dropped as though every muscle had suddenly stopped obeying him.

The sound of impact against dirt was sharp enough to make Rose gasp.

The AR system spoke again.

[No. 55 is eliminated.]

A pause.

Then:

[No. 55 is not Jobless.]

The clearing froze.

For several seconds, nobody moved.

Even those who had voted stared at Kennedy’s body as if expecting the message to reverse itself.

But it did not.

He remained still.

Dead. No dramatic execution. No blood. Only absolute stillness.

And that somehow made it worse.

Because now everyone understood something horrifying—

The system would kill simply because the group voted.

Correctness came second.

A false vote still killed.

Several participants visibly trembled.

One woman covered her mouth.

A hunter near the back lowered his bow completely.

Even those who had voted neutral looked shaken.

Because together they had just killed someone who had not been the Jobless.

Not through proof. Not through certainty. Only through fear.

Slowly, eyes turned toward Dale.

The atmosphere changed around him immediately.

Unfriendly now. Suspicious. Cold.

Yet Dale barely reacted. He looked once at Kennedy’s body, then shrugged as though nothing serious had happened.

"Looks like he wasn’t Jobless after all," he said.

His voice remained almost casual.

"At least now we have one clue."

That line made Tyler’s eyes narrow.

Because the death seemed to disturb Dale far less than it disturbed everyone else.

Then Dale looked around and spoke louder.

"Alright. False alarm. Go back and do your jobs."

The confidence in his tone sounded almost offensive now.

As if he expected everyone to obey him naturally.

Some participants clearly hated hearing it, but fear still controlled them more than anger.

Slowly, people began moving again.

No one wanted to become the next suspect.

Tyler remained still for two more seconds, studying Dale carefully.

One thing was obvious now:

Dale had not cared whether Kennedy survived.

That accusation had come too easily.

Too deliberately.

And whether Dale was Jobless or not, he had targeted Kennedy with clear intent.

Why Kennedy specifically?

Tyler did not know.

But for now, he decided not to chase the answer too early.

Inside this game, chasing every suspicion could become another trap.

So he turned and walked back toward the mine.

Behind him, Kennedy’s body still lay where the vote had ended him— silent proof that in this game, fear could kill faster than the hidden enemy itself.

Soon after,

Without warning, the ground beneath Kennedy’s body split apart with mechanical precision. A narrow section of earth opened directly under him, the movement so sudden.

Kennedy’s body dropped straight down into the darkness below.

There was no ceremony.

No retrieval team.

No delay.

Only a clean disappearance, as though the game itself had already decided that even the dead should not remain visible long enough to leave weight behind.

A second later, the earth closed again.

The split ground sealed perfectly, leaving no crack, no stain, no sign that someone had just died there moments earlier.

Only flattened dirt remained.

Kennedy’s wife collapsed to ground and wailed.