After everyone provided identification, they were separated.

Ava waited without protest. While she sat alone, she opened the game panel. Three lives had become two. She clicked the story details. The fragment she just witnessed was added and the score changed.

Score: 68%.

Her lips curved faintly, with 10 hours left she could sleep through them and pass. If 50% was enough to survive, then 68% had to mean something more. 

Before she could explore the score guide to know more, the door opened.

She was led into a small room. No windows. A table. Two chairs facing each other. A man already sat on one side, hands folded, watching her as if she had arrived late to an appointment.

Ava scoffed quietly and took the opposite seat.

“Ava XXXX, 18 years old, right?” he said, glancing at a file. “What is someone your age doing out at three in the morning, at a location where a violent murder just occurred?”

“Officer,” Ava replied, “may I ask why I am here? I do not know about the others, but I was brought in without any explanation. Going out for a walk at night is not a crime.”

“You are saying you were taking a stroll in an area where a violent murderer might still be present. Possibly looking for a new victim.”

“Why am I here?” she repeated, sharper this time. “You cannot detain people as you please.”

“We received several calls about screams,” he said. “Do you know anything about that?”

Ava leaned back slightly, eyes steady.

“I am afraid I cannot answer any questions without discussing this with my lawyer.”

The room went quiet.

The officer studied her for a long moment, as if reassessing what kind of trouble she was.

A faint sound crackled through the officer’s earpiece.

His expression shifted. The casual edge vanished, replaced by something heavier. He looked back at her.

“You know the people you were with?” he said.

Ava hesitated, then decided to play along. If the game rewarded engagement, this might raise her score. Even if she pushed too far, it did not matter. In less than half a day, she would be gone.

As for the original Ava, there was no chance this version of reality would persist after they left. This was a game, not another world. It would reset for the next batch of players. The identities here were placeholders, convincing ones, but temporary.

Seeing her own ID earlier had confirmed it. No two players would share the same full name, the same date of birth, the same face.

So she answered calmly, “I was not with them. We just happened to be at the same place at the same time. And no, I do not know any of them.”

“Really?” he said. “Then why are they all saying you are playing a game together?”

She knew he was lying.

There was no way all of them would say that. Maybe one or two would panic, say something stupid, but not everyone. She didn’t answer this time.

The officer leaned forward. “Are you part of some kind of cult? Torturing others until they die as a group activity?”

“I do not know what you are talking about,” she replied.

“Where were you from midnight until the police arrived?”

“Asleep. Why? Did something happen at that time? Was someone else killed?”

His tone sharpened. “Enough with these little mind games. I am the one asking questions here.”

Ava lifted her gaze and looked straight at him.

“Are you?” she asked calmly.

He froze for half a second. Up close, he did not look experienced. His pauses were too precise, his phrasing slightly delayed, like someone waiting for instructions. The earpiece fed him lines, and he followed them without fully understanding the rhythm of an interrogation.

He would not last against a real criminal. She was certain of that.

“I think you need some time to think things through,” he said stiffly, standing up.

Then he left.

The door closed, the sound hollow in the cold room.

Ava remained seated. She stared at the dark glass of the double sided mirror, waiting for movement. After a while, she looked away and opened the panel.

Score guide.

score <50%= failure + punishment

50% = pass + spin the prize wheel×1

60% = spin the prize wheel×2 

70% = current lives carry over to the next level.

80% = one hint for the next level.

90% = one hint, usable inside a level of choice.

100% = skip the next level entirely.

Each score reward also includes all rewards from the lower scores before it, so a 64% = pass+ spin the wheel ×3 .

Ava read the list twice, her score sat at 68%. No hints, no shortcuts; but three chances at winning mysterious prizes. She should at least reach 70% so her lives would carry over to the next level— who knows she might encounter an agressive ghost later. 

The prize wheel was still greyed out, unresponsive, locked. She tapped it once anyway. Nothing changed. It would probably remain inaccessible until the level officially ended. That made sense. The game had no reason to reward her early.

Ava leaned back in the chair, letting the room’s silence settle around her. Her eyes returned to the mirror, its surface blank and unreadable, and she waited to see which side would make the next move.

From the moment the police appeared, nothing followed protocol. They were detained without a word of explanation. If not for the cars and the uniforms, it would have looked like a kidnapping. Even after arrival, the officers only identified them briefly, nothing more.

What frustrated Ava most was how quickly they took their belongings. Ava’s bag with her phone inside, gone before she could check the messages Lily had sent. Now she sat in a room where even the camera was turned off, an absence more unsettling than its presence.

Everything about this felt wrong. This was not an official investigation. They were improvising, doing what they wanted. A murder of this scale should have flooded the news, yet nothing surfaced online— were they trying to prevent public panic? Or are they hiding something far worse?

The women from the fragment did not seem like someone ordinary. She spoke and acted as if nothing could stop her, as though she had support behind her, support that would not collapse no matter what she was doing.

Then came the question about where she had been in the last hours— something significant must had happened then. And “torturing people to death”— someone else must have died, and not just anyone. 

With so many breaches of basic rights, it became clear what they were doing. They were not searching for the truth. They were searching for a suspect, someone convenient, someone they could point to and close the case immediately, even if someone powerful had been tortured to death.

Ava’s mind kept circling back to yesterday. What linked that scene to this new case. Was there a pattern?

And then there was Lily. The thought slipped in uninvited and refused to leave. Had she done something?

If Lily was involved, it meant this was bigger than a simple crime. It meant yesterday was not an ending, but the beginning of something they were desperately trying to bury.

Ava rubbed her hands together as she leaned against the table. Leaving her alone, letting the silence stretch, trying to scare her into losing her temper. No one was coming anytime soon. She rested her head on her arms and closed her eyes. Sleeping felt safer than waiting.

The knock against the table jolted her awake.

A different officer stood in front of her. Young and shining with confidence. He wore the same earpiece as the other. He placed a thermos on the table, the smell of coffee filling the room.

 “Would you like something to drink?”, he asked.

“So that’s the approach.” Ava said. “Good cop.”

He smiled faintly. “Just trying to be helpful.”

When I drink, you’ll leave me here. Then when I ask to use the toilet, no one answers. ‘No thanks.’

His smile tightened. “We discovered you knew Lily Ven. Did you know she was killed yesterday? If you tell us what you know, we can still catch the person who did that to her.”

“She was my friend.”

“You seem very calm for someone whose friend was brutally murdered. You were the last person she contacted yesterday. You also called her several times today.”

“I had an exam all day,” Ava said. “I didn’t even get to read the messages before you stole my bag. Was kidnapping me not enough?”

“You’re here to assist the investigation. Once it’s over and you’re cleared, you can leave.”

“And when is that?”

“The sooner you tell us what you know, the sooner you walk out.”

“ Is this about what happened at midnight.”

His posture stiffened. “ Were you there?”

“There where?”

“Did you see anything?” he asked. “Or do anything?”

“See what? Do what? I already said I was asleep.” Ava leaned back. “But I might know who did it. If you give me more information, I could give you a lead. Your superior would like that. Who knows. Maybe you even get promoted and stop being the scapegoat.” Thinking about it, there was no other choice but to unlock the 3 a.m fragment, and the police arrived soon after that. Maybe the game prepared the police station location so we could use NPCs to gather more information about the story. And who would be more suitable for this mission than a hot headed cop, desperate to find justice, blind to the fact that he was unknowingly covering up the truth.

The change in his face was immediate. He tore the earpiece out, his face red with anger, already drawing breath to scream at her.

“Still refusing to confess and even trying to sow discord? You know why you’re here— why are you playing dumb?” he snapped. “Killing two innocent people yesterday wasn’t enough? Your cult is playing games with people’s lives, and you went after two more today. Are you making sacrifices? Speak. Who is responsible for this cruel game? Did you just stand by and watch as life leaft their bodies, convincing yourself you did something good for the world?”

 “I heard something about fingerprints earlier. You’re going to plant them at the crime scenes? label it cult activity, and throw all of us in jail? By the way, Lily is innocent, yes. As for the woman— was the boy— the witness’s injuries not enough to prove something beyond innocence?”

The officer’s voice kept rising, “How do you know there was a boy at yesterday’s scene? And you still claim ignorance. Did you kill your friend? Did it feel different, watching someone who trusted you die by your hands?”

This dumb NPC thought he was Sherlock Holmes. At best, he was Kogoro Mouri. It’s starting to get on my nerves. Slow breaths. All of this is for a higher score.

“You think you are here to gain experience,” she continued. “You are not. If this goes public, every mistake lands on you. Arresting dozens of people in the middle of the night. Holding them without probable cause.”

Ava met his eyes. “I have not contacted a lawyer yet,” she said. “But I am certain the compensation for this will make me laugh in my sleep.”

The cop finally seemed to lose it. If this were an animated game, fumes would have been visible above his head. Ava watched his grip tighten around the thermos. For a moment, she thought he might throw it at her.

“Take the thermos out,” she said . “I will return to the topic.”

He stared at her. A long minute passed. Then he stood, removed it from the room, and sat back down.

“Two more people died,” she said. “How sure are you they were innocent?”

Ava thought of Lily— of the words she had used earlier: ‘hunting time’, and ‘what I did to those two’. 

Lily had orchestrated tonight’s ‘sacrifice’— of that, Ava was certain. Cruel— the cop had called her. But Lily did not hunt the innocent blindly. With so many players available to participate in her game of hide and seek, she never forced them to play, which she could do easily.

The timer crept toward its end.

Ava looked up. “Next time,” she said quietly, “try to be a little smarter. Goodbye.”

A chime echoed through the room.

Ding. 

Player Ava, congratulations on passing the first level.