By the next morning—or what everyone had begun calling the third day inside that artificial wilderness—the atmosphere had become far heavier than before.

No one trusted sleep anymore.

No one trusted quiet.

And after two false votes, everyone understood that the game had already entered the stage where hesitation itself could become fatal.

The emergency meeting happened exactly where Tansy had announced it would: near the campfire clearing, now under pale artificial daylight instead of night fire.

People arrived earlier than expected.

Some came openly because curiosity pulled them.

Some came because refusing to appear might itself look suspicious.

Others came because fear had grown large enough that even weak hope was worth listening to.

By the time Tyler arrived, nearly everyone still alive had gathered.

They formed an uneven circle again, leaving the center clear.

Tansy stood there.

Her expression remained composed, though Tyler could tell she had already decided exactly how to control the room.

Rose stood slightly behind her.

Victor stayed close to Tyler.

Dale remained farther left, arms folded, already carrying the look of someone prepared to mock whatever came next.

Tansy spoke once the murmurs settled.

"There are Jobless among us."

The sentence no longer shocked anyone, but hearing it said aloud in daylight made people instinctively glance around anyway.

Some looked openly suspicious.

Some deliberately pretended to scan the crowd so no one would accuse them of avoiding eye contact.

Tansy continued before anyone interrupted.

"There are also loopholes in this game."

That immediately sharpened attention.

"Yesterday, while killing one of the Silver Leopards, we found this."

She lifted the paper.

The so-called job application form.

It looked ordinary enough—almost absurdly ordinary compared to the game surrounding them.

Yet because nobody understood the system fully, ordinary things now carried terrifying weight.

"This is a Job Application."

She held it high enough that everyone could see.

"It can turn one Jobless back into a Worker."

The clearing grew quiet.

"But we only have one."

That line mattered.

Because one chance meant competition.

One confession.

One opportunity before others lost it.

Tansy lowered the paper slightly and looked around the gathered participants.

"So whoever comes out first and admits they are Jobless—we use it on you."

A pause followed.

"After becoming Worker again, all you need to do is tell us who made you Jobless... and who you turned into Jobless."

That changed the mood instantly.

The silence became suspicious silence.

Because now every person in the clearing had reason to think:

If someone steps forward, truth begins unraveling.

Tyler deliberately added his voice at the right moment.

"At least this way," he said loudly enough for all to hear, "we reduce the number of Jobless."

The phrasing worked exactly as intended.

People nodded.

Even those doubtful still accepted the logic because reducing unknown danger sounded better than waiting blindly.

Yet no one moved.

No confession came.

No one stepped forward.

The circle held still under growing pressure.

Then Dale laughed.

The same mocking laugh as before.

"I knew this would happen."

He looked around with obvious superiority.

"Who would walk forward just because Sector 11 says so?"

But Tansy ignored him completely.

She did not answer.

She simply waited.

And after several more silent seconds—

Someone moved.

A figure stepped out from the crowd slowly.

Craig.

The same Craig who had mined beside Tyler on the first day.

Tyler’s eyes sharpened.

Even he had not expected Craig to move this early.

Craig’s face carried visible tension. His breathing looked uneven, and the moment everyone realized he had stepped into the center willingly, murmurs spread through the circle.

Craig swallowed before speaking.

"I was turned into Jobless."

The clearing reacted immediately.

Several people whispered.

Victor looked shocked.

Rose stared openly.

Craig forced himself to continue.

"And... I turned someone else into Jobless too."

That made the whispers louder.

Because now for the first time someone had openly admitted the hidden mechanism was real.

Tansy did not waste the moment.

"Good."

She stepped forward and handed him the paper.

"Use it. Then point out who turned you."

Craig took the form with both hands.

Even now his fingers trembled slightly.

As if touching it might itself trigger punishment.

Then something fell from above.

A pen.

It dropped cleanly from the sky and landed directly beside him.

No drones were visible, yet everyone knew the game itself had responded.

Craig bent down, picked up the pen, and signed.

The moment the signature completed, the paper glowed.

Then flashed.

A brief bright flare like burning magician’s paper—except no ash remained.

The form vanished entirely.

Several participants stepped back instinctively.

Craig froze.

Then suddenly looked into his AR glasses.

His expression changed instantly.

Joy.

Real joy.

"It worked!"

His voice cracked with relief.

"It really worked!"

He laughed once, almost disbelieving, then actually jumped in place like someone who had escaped execution at the last second.

For several seconds he looked younger than before, stripped of all fear by relief.

Then a hand landed on his shoulder.

Tyler.

The touch alone stopped Craig’s excitement.

He looked sideways immediately.

Tyler’s expression remained calm.

But the question came without softness.

"Who turned you?"

The clearing tightened again.

Because now this mattered more than the confession itself.

Craig swallowed.

His eyes moved.

First toward Dale.

Then slightly past him.

Toward two other Sector 1 participants standing nearby.

Tyler noticed the sequence carefully.

Not random.

Craig was choosing exactly.

Dale noticed too.

The relaxed confidence he usually carried disappeared at once.

"It’s those three," Craig said.

His hand lifted.

Finger pointing directly.

At Dale and the remaining two from Sector 1.

The clearing erupted.

Dale’s face changed immediately.

The two beside him reacted just as fast.

"That’s a lie!" Dale shouted first.

The other two joined him almost instantly.

"It’s false!"

"He’s lying!"

But for the first time since entering this game, Dale’s voice no longer carried full control.

Because now suspicion had finally turned back toward him— and this time, it came with someone who had already been a jobless.

"How can it be a lie?" Tyler asked, his voice calm enough that it immediately cut through the shouting. "He pointed at all three of you. And he is a Worker now. The game itself confirmed that."

The crowd shifted again, many turning toward Dale and the two remaining Sector 1 participants standing beside him.

For the first time since the emergency meeting began, even people who had been uncertain now looked openly suspicious.

Dale frowned, but instead of exploding immediately, he forced his expression into something closer to confusion.

"I don’t understand it either," he said, then looked directly at Craig with visible irritation. "Why are you accusing us? We barely even spoke before."

Craig reacted instantly.

"Don’t lie. You turned me into Jobless yesterday."

His voice carried more confidence now than before.

"I’m lucky I got the job application before someone else."

That line mattered because the crowd had already seen him recover successfully.

Dale’s jaw tightened.

Before he could answer again, Tyler stepped slightly forward.

"Fine," Tyler said. "Then let’s test truth properly."

The clearing fell silent.

Tyler raised one hand and pointed.

"I accuse No. 4 as Jobless."

Immediately, the AR system reacted.

In the broadcast, everyone saw a marker appeared above one of the Sector 1 participants standing beside Dale.

No. 4

The man looked stunned for half a second, then anger took over.

He pointed back at Tyler almost instantly.

"And I accuse you!"

The system accepted the second accusation just as quickly.

Tyler’s own badge number flashed in the display.

No. 51

Now the clearing fully understood what was happening.

A forced test.

A controlled collision.

Tyler gave a short laugh.

"It’s pointless," he said. "Everyone already knows where the truth is."

But No. 4 was furious now.

"No! I know I’m not Jobless!"

His voice rose loud enough that even those near the back flinched.

Then he shouted toward everyone gathered:

"If I die and I’m not Jobless —vote him next!"

His finger remained locked on Tyler.

The system activated immediately.

[No. 51 vs No. 4]

The timer did not even need full pressure now. People had already learned how these votes moved.

Many selected quickly.

Others followed the visible crowd.

The result came fast.

[Voting ended.]

[No. 4 is selected.]

Verification lasted barely a second.

Then the verdict appeared.

[No. 4 is eliminated.]

The man collapsed before he could say anything more.

His body hit the ground hard.

And then came the line that froze the clearing again.

[No. 4 is not Jobless.]

Silence.

This time even Tyler’s expression changed.

His eyes widened slightly.

Because although he had expected tension, the result still landed differently when the system declared innocence again.

The ground beneath No. 4 opened and swallowed the body without ceremony, sealing shut moments later.

No trace remained.

Then anger erupted.

"See?!"

No. 2 stepped forward immediately, teeth clenched hard enough that his voice almost shook.

"We told you not to frame us!"

His face had gone red with fury.

"No. 4 was my cousin!"

Now the emotional weight shifted dangerously.

Because family gave anger more force than accusation alone.

He pointed directly at Tyler.

"Just like he said before dying—vote him next."

Then he shouted clearly:

"I accuse No. 51!"

The AR system responded again.

Tyler’s display flashed.

Before anyone else could react, Tyler raised one hand and answered at once.

"I accuse you too."

Now No. 2’s number lit beside Tyler’s.

Another round of voting started.