Satan’s Game

They are now some distance from the cliff, and going back seems pointless.

The sniper is likely long gone.

Carlos asks, "Where are we going now? Should we return to the cliff?"

"The clue isn't at the bottom of the cliff. I climbed down about 100-inches and saw nothing—barely any grass grows there. As much as Satan's games are cruel, they're not completely impossible. If even we, with a rope, couldn't access the clue, then people without one have no chance."

"So you think the answer isn't the bottom of the cliff?" Carlos asks.

"Exactly."

If the clue exists, it would be somewhere humans could reasonably reach. 

If it's unreachable, it's not there.

Carlos frowns, deep in thought. "Then what could it be…"

The endless black soil devours all light.

'endless', 'black soil', 'light'

Carlos suddenly connects the dots. "Oh man, I think I know what the clue is."

 "Huh?"

Carlos continues, "And I also know who is the first to get the second clue."

"Who?"

"The man who pushed me into the water and got stuck in the swamp."

Cillian follows his logic. "The answer is the swamp?"

"Endless. Black soil. Devouring. Light." Carlos lists the keywords.

It all fits.

The speed at which the second clue was found makes sense if the answer is the swamp. 

Thinking back to the moment that frail man sank into the mud, the pieces come together.

The answer must be the swamp!

Without hesitation, they both head back toward the swamp.

Their pace quickens, but the sound of heavy footsteps echoes through the forest nearby.

Someone else is moving fast—branches snapping, undergrowth crushed underfoot. The noise is loud and frantic, like a bear charging through the woods.

They don't need to see who it is to know— it's definitely Ali.

Always lurking, always listening.

The swamp is vast, but Carlos remembers the path he took earlier and the exact spot where the man sank.

When they reach the area, Carlos shines his flashlight over the swamp. 

The man is gone as expected.

The soft mud has closed over, rippling slightly, as though beckoning someone to step in.

Ali, who arrived before them, hesitates near the edge. Skeptical and cautious, he's not entirely convinced. 

If Carlos is lying, he could sink to his death.

Carlos, however, doesn't hesitate. Without a word, he steps into the swamp.

Even Cillian is surprised by his boldness.

The swamp feels like soft, suffocating quicksand, slowly swallowing Carlos whole.

The first sensation isn't fear or weakness—it's the crushing pressure against his chest, making it hard to breathe.

It feels as though the swamp is squeezing the life out of him, forcing him to lose consciousness.

For a moment, doubt flashes through his mind. 

Did I guess wrong? Is this how I die?

As the mud creeps higher, Carlos looks at Cillian and uses his last bit of strength to say, "Don't come in. If I find the clue, I'll… tell you."

Then the swamp swallows his head, and he disappears beneath the surface.

Cillian holds her breath, waiting anxiously for the system announcement to chime in—declaring that a contestant has died.

Thanks god.

The announcement doesn't come.

[Game Notification] Current Chests Found: 3/3, Clues Available : 2/3

Ali freezes, then lets out a frustrated curse. "Damn it! There's another person down there!"

The clue he thought was in his grasp has slipped away again.

But wait—there's still one person who hasn't unlocked their clue. If he can just take it from them, it's not over yet.

At that moment, Carlos suddenly reemerges from the swamp, as if lifted by some hidden platform, appearing completely unscathed.

Ali's eyes narrow with a menacing glint. 

He's willing to do anything— anything— to get that clue. Even if it means resorting to violence. Trading is no longer an option; his inventory is empty.

Carlos barely steps out before shouting, "I've got the chest! The clue is simple—we need to move. Now!"

Ali halts mid-attack.

If Carlos is saying the clue is simple, it means it's already been unlocked. Taking it from him would be useless. They'll definitely lie if he asks.

The only way to win now is to extract the final hint from whoever hasn't opened their chest yet.

Damn— He has to find the one still working on theirs.

Just then, another figure emerges from a separate swamp pit. It's a small-framed woman, her face smeared with mud, making her features unrecognizable. 

Before she can leave the area, Ali charges toward her like a bear on the hunt.

"Give me the chest!" he roars.

"Lunatic," she mutters, sidestepping his attack with ease. Seeing Carlos and Cillian retreating in the distance, a realization dawns on her. "My clue's already unlocked. The one who hasn't opened theirs yet? It's him!"

"Why should I believe you?"Ali's movements falter. 

She rolls her eyes. "If I didn't already have my clue, do you think I'd be slower to leave than him?"

Ali stiffens. The pieces snap together in his mind.

"Carlos!" he bellows, spinning around.

He takes off in a frenzy, intent on chasing Carlos and Cillian, but in his haste, he forgets one critical fact: he's still in a swamp.

Barely a few steps in, the ground beneath him softens. His foot plunges into the muck, and before he knows it, one leg is trapped.

The woman glances back, a smirk tugging at her lips. She throws him a mocking look before sprinting off, leaving him stuck.

Ali thrashes in frustration, trying to brute-force his way free, but it's no use. 

Flailing only sinks him deeper.

He can do nothing but watch helplessly as the others race toward victory.

"Was that girl the Assassin?" Carlos pants as he runs, but even now, his mind works on analyzing. "There are only two identities left to confirm: the Sorcerer and the Assassin. Judging by behavior, the man's cunning and ruthlessness fit the Sorcerer better."

"The one who's always vanishing into thin air seems more like the Assassin."

The identities of all seven players are becoming clearer: Ali-the Boxer, William-the Medic, the Sniper, the Sorcerer, and the Assassin.

The Assassin remains the one person they haven't directly encountered.

Based on their earlier encounter at the pool, the Assassin must be the first person who secured the clue there. 

Managing to retrieve the clue undetected speaks volumes about their skill.

Then again, no one in this game could be considered simple.

When Carlos and Cillian enter the jungle again and hear no more footsteps behind them, they finally stop.

"What's the clue?" Cillian asks.

"Wait a second." Carlos summons the system interface.

 "You didn't open the clue?"

"Nope," Carlos answers.

Cillian pauses. 

Well done, Carlos. You've learned to lie.

If Ali had known their chest hadn't been opened yet, he would've gone after it. Ali's brute strength made him a dangerous opponent neither Carlos nor Cillian could handle one-on-one.

By lying, Carlos had defused the immediate threat, ensuring Ali would chase the girl instead. Two problems solved at once.

Cillian nods, a hint of approval in his expression. Carlos's quick thinking is earning his appreciation.

[System Notification] Please scan your fingerprint to unlock the clue.

Carlos selects "2" and presses his finger to the screen. A prompt appears before them.

[Exit Hint] The earth is bathed in moonlight. A giant bird prepares to take flight on the plains.

Cillian frowns and glances at the sky. The moon is bright and clear.

But what's the giant bird?

There isn't even a small bird in sight—just a swarm of mosquitoes.

"An eagle? An owl?" Carlos suggests, thinking of nocturnal birds.

"Doesn't feel right," Cillian replies.

His gaze shifts to the shadowy forest ahead, where the thick canopy blocks out the moonlight entirely. He thinks for a moment before saying, "Let's head to an open area and take a look."

Carlos takes out the drone, using its night vision to scan the terrain.

"There's a clearing not far ahead," he says.

"Let's go."

As they move, Cillian keeps an eye on their surroundings. He sees no signs of anyone following them and finally relaxes enough to continue.

But deep down, something nags at him.

Where did the Sorcerer—the wiry man—go?

Calculating the timeline, the Sorcerer had a half-day lead on everyone when he found the first clue. His advantage was significant. 

However, since the system hasn't announced a winner yet, it means he hasn't solved the riddle—or so they hope.

If the Sorcerer hasn't figured it out, that's one thing. But if he has solved it and still hasn't gone to the exit? 

That could only mean one thing: danger.

It would suggest he's set a lethal trap somewhere, ready to ambush anyone heading for the gate.

As they tread deeper into the dense forest, the moonlight above vanishes completely. 

Carlos scans the area with his flashlight. The ground is littered with rotting leaves, releasing a foul, musty stench. 

Each step sinks slightly, the slippery texture unpleasant even through his shoes.

Compared to Cillian, Carlos moves with far more caution.

Suddenly, a loud snap! echoes through the woods.

Carlos jerks his head up, just in time to see Cillian flung into the air.

"What —"

Cillian, equally stunned, feels a tight pull around his ankle. Before he can react, he's yanked upward with incredible force, bouncing several times before hanging still.

Carlos's flashlight beam finds him dangling from a tree, his ankle bound by a long rope.

"Don't move!"Cillian reminds.

Carlos freezes. He quickly realizes —there are traps all over the ground.

He carefully sweeps the flashlight across the forest floor. 

At first, everything looks normal, but on closer inspection, the scattered leaves seem deliberately placed. Uneven.

He picks up a branch and tosses it into the suspicious area. The moment the branch lands, the ground erupts. 

Leaves scatter as a hidden snare snaps tight, the rope coiling and flinging the stick skyward.

"Crouch down," Cillian hisses. "Someone's coming."

Carlos drops into a squat, whispering, "Won't they also fall into the traps?"

Cillian shoots him a deadly glare, the kind that could silence anyone. 

Carlos gets the message and obediently stays quiet.

[Live Comments]Carlos, please stop asking questions.

[Live Comments] Why do I love how Cillian handles him? Pure dominance.

[Live Comments] Wait, is that a crowd behind them??!

Cillian already has a good idea who set the traps.

It could only be the Sorcerer. He's the one with the time and cunning to pull this off.

But more importantly, this confirms something critical—the Sorcerer likely knows the solution to the riddle. 

His confidence in laying these traps shows he's not worried about being overtaken.

Instead, the Sorcerer's lying in wait, trying to eliminate all competition at once.

The commotion from Cillian being yanked skyward must have been loud enough for the Sorcerer to hear. But he won't act yet.

Not until he's caught more prey in his net.

Cillian remains perfectly still, hanging upside down. Like the Sorcerer, he waits in silence.

Because when the Sorcerer shows himself, that's when he'll strike.

The dense foliage blocks out the silver moonlight, leaving the forest in near-total darkness. It's hard enough to see the ground, let alone spot someone dangling in the distance.

The Assassin runs swiftly, a blur in the shadows. She knows the riddle's answer now. The exit is within her grasp, just a step away. 

She doesn't look back at the sounds of pursuit, but glances briefly over her shoulder. Flickering torchlight reveals two shadows chasing her.

A contemptuous smirk crosses her lips.

Then, without warning, her body jerks upward. A sharp force yanks her off the ground, and she's instantly suspended midair. 

The sudden impact steals her breath, her heart skipping a beat as if it has momentarily stopped.

She blinks at the upside-down world, still reeling from the shock. 

Before she can fully process, another loud snap echoes, followed by a shouting as another figure is caught and hoisted into the air nearby.

The two are now hanging close to where Cillian is trapped. 

Carlos, crouched in the shadows, recognizes their voices amidst the startled yelps: the Assassin and… the Medic.

Carlos hesitates, guilt creeping in. 

He had just set the Assassin up earlier, and now she's caught in a trap. 

And the Medic—he feels even guiltier about him. Cillian had deceived the Medic before, and he still hasn't confessed the truth.

The combined weight of guilt gnaws at Carlos. But he promised Cillian to follow his lead. Cillian hasn't told him to act, so he stays put.

*Snap! 

Another loud noise breaks the tension. This time, the weight of the victim proves too much for the trap. 

Carlos hears the brittle crack of a branch, followed by an angry stream of curses.

"What the f%#$?!"

There's no mistaking that voice—it's Ali.

Almost immediately, a shadow lunges out from the dense undergrowth, landing right in front of Ali. 

A sharp knife glints in the dim light, pressed against Ali's throat.

Ali freezes, thinking it's just a threat. But then the attacker raises the knife, aiming to slash. 

Ali barely reacts in time, swinging his fist with all his strength. His punch connects, sending the attacker flying.

Ali scrambles away, his breath coming in heavy, panicked gasps. Sweat trickles down his temple as he stares at his attacker—a wiry man with a gaunt frame, barely larger than a malnourished child.

But the man's face tells a different story. Deep wrinkles carve his features, and his age is evident—at least forty.

The Sorcerer.

The man fixes his gaze on Ali, one side of his face already swelling from the punch. He doesn't attack again immediately, clearly biding his time to strike.

Ali glances around and notices the people hanging from the trees.

"You mother fu*ker set all these fu*king traps to catch us?"

The Sorcerer responds with a chilling laugh, the sound low and guttural. 

"Not to catch you—I'm here to take your lives."