Once Livia's wound was dressed, the four of them sat in the infirmary, the atmosphere heavy with unspoken tension.
"We can't keep working separately," Aron said, breaking the silence. "If we do, we're just making it easier for whoever's behind this to pick us off."
"Agreed," Zander said. "We need to pool our resources and figure this out together."
Zane looked between them, his expression uncertain. "You're serious? You want us on your team?"
"You just proved you can hold your own," Aron said. "And we'll need that if we're going to survive this."
Livia raised an eyebrow. "What makes you think we want to join you?"
Aron gave her a pointed look. "Because whoever's behind this isn't playing by the rules. If we don't work together, none of us are making it out of here."
Livia sighed, leaning back against the pillow. "Fair point."
"Good," Aron said, nodding. "Then it's settled."
With their alliance formed, the group turned their attention to the case at hand.
"We've got three dead guests," Aron said, pacing the room. "Two poisoned, one killed in a direct attack. That tells us two things: one, the killer isn't relying on just one method. And two, they're escalating."
"Escalating how?" Zane asked.
"Poisoning is impersonal," Aron explained. "Attacking directly is a statement. It's riskier, but it sends a message: they're not afraid to get their hands dirty."
Zander nodded. "They're also trying to confuse us. The poisonings make it look like a calculated plan, but the attack on Livia and Zane feels impulsive."
"Which means there might be more than one person involved," Aron concluded.
"Or someone trying to act like there is," Livia added, her voice quieter but no less sharp.
Aron stopped pacing, his mind racing. "We need to narrow the field. Out of the seven remaining NPCs, who's most likely to be involved?"
"Let's start with the butler and chef," Zander said. "They're the only staff, and they've had access to the poison."
"Then there's the rest of the guests," Zane added. "Some of them have been acting suspicious since the start."
Livia smirked weakly. "Pretty sure that applies to all of us."
Before they could plan their next move, a loud knock echoed through the infirmary. Aron and Zander tensed, their hands going to their weapons.
"It's just me," came a familiar voice.
The butler stepped inside, his usual calm demeanor slightly strained. He held an envelope in his gloved hand.
"This was left at the dining hall," he said, handing it to Aron. "I thought you might want to see it."
Aron opened the envelope carefully, revealing a single piece of paper with an ominous message scrawled in dark ink:
"The clock is ticking. Five will fall. Four will rise."
Aron's blood ran cold. "Five will fall? Does that mean—"
"It means they plan to kill two more," Zander said grimly.
"And what about 'four will rise'?" Zane asked.
Aron's mind raced. "It could mean anything. Four survivors, four killers, or..." He trailed off, shaking his head. "We need more information."
As the group prepared to leave the infirmary, Livia pushed herself to her feet, leaning on Zane for support.
"You're not staying here," Zander said, his tone firm.
"And do what? Wait to get picked off?" Livia shot back. "Not happening."
"She's right," Aron said, surprising everyone. "If the killer thinks she's weak, she might be safer with us than alone."
Zander didn't look convinced, but he didn't argue.
"We'll start with the butler and chef," Aron said. "They're the closest thing we have to suspects."
"And if they don't pan out?" Zane asked.
Aron's expression hardened. "Then we keep digging. Someone in this mansion knows what's happening. And we're going to find them."
"Where do we start?" Zander asked, his tone clipped as the group gathered in the lounge.
Aron's mind was spinning. The killer's moves had escalated, and time was running out. "We need to reevaluate everything," he said finally. "What we know, what we've seen—none of it feels right."
Zander's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?"
Aron began pacing, his hands gesturing as he spoke. "Think about it. Every clue we've followed has led us somewhere... convenient. The footprints to the cellar, the poisoned guests, the attacks—they're leading us, but they're not giving us answers. It's like we're being... guided."
Livia, pale but alert, leaned against the armrest of the couch. "Guided? By who? The killer?"
"Maybe," Aron admitted. "Or maybe it's the mansion itself. Think about the infinite flow world. This isn't just a murder mystery—it's a test. But the test isn't just about finding the killer."
Zane was surprised. "What? Mansion? And why do you think infinite flow world has set this as a test?"
Aron mumbled in his heart, It's easier to solve this if I think of it as a test. My dear siblings have really made me do all sort of tests.
"Then what is it about?" Zane asked, his brow furrowed.
Aron hesitated. "Survival. Judgment. I don't know yet. But we're missing something crucial."
Zander and Livia went to check the dining hall, while Aron and Zane headed toward the butler's quarters.
The hallway felt colder as they approached. Aron's footsteps echoed against the polished wood, his thoughts racing.
"Do you think the butler's involved?" Zane asked, his voice low.
"I don't know," Aron admitted. "But he knows more than he's letting on."
They reached the door to the butler's room, its surface unremarkable except for a faint scratch near the handle. Aron pushed the door open cautiously, his eyes scanning the space.
The room was neat, almost unnaturally so. A small bed, a desk, and a wardrobe occupied the space, with no personal touches to be seen. It was as if the room belonged to no one.
Zane moved to the desk, rifling through papers. "Just inventory lists and schedules," he said, sounding disappointed.
Aron's gaze landed on the wardrobe. He stepped closer, pulling it open. Inside were the butler's uniforms, neatly pressed and arranged by color. But something about the floor caught his attention—a faint seam in the wood.
"Help me move this," Aron said, gesturing to the wardrobe.
Together, they pushed it aside, revealing a trapdoor beneath.
"Well, that's not suspicious at all," Zane muttered.
Aron lifted the trapdoor, revealing a narrow staircase descending into darkness. A faint, damp smell wafted up, sending a chill down his spine.
"Stay close," Aron said, gripping the candlestick he still carried.
The staircase led to a narrow, damp tunnel lined with stone walls. Their footsteps echoed as they moved cautiously, the flickering light of Aron's flashlight casting long shadows.
"This doesn't feel right," Zane whispered.
Aron didn't respond. His focus was on the faint markings on the walls—strange, looping symbols that seemed to repeat at irregular intervals.
They reached the end of the tunnel, where a heavy wooden door stood slightly ajar. Aron pushed it open, revealing a small chamber filled with strange machinery. Gears and levers lined the walls, and in the center of the room was a single chair surrounded by wires and tubes.
"What the hell is this?" Zane asked, his voice trembling.
Aron's eyes narrowed. "I don't know. But it doesn't look like anything a butler should have access to."
Before they could investigate further, a loud crash echoed from above.
Aron and Zane raced back through the tunnel, adrenaline pumping. As they emerged into the hallway, they found Zander and Livia fighting off a hooded figure wielding a gleaming dagger.
Livia, her face pale and strained, summoned a stream of water from a nearby vase, hurling it at the attacker. The water wrapped around the figure like a whip, momentarily slowing them.
Zander moved in, his knife flashing as he struck with precision. The hooded figure dodged, their movements almost inhumanly quick.
"Zane, help Livia!" Aron shouted, rushing to Zander's side.
The figure lunged at Zander, their dagger aimed for his chest. Zander sidestepped, grabbing the attacker's arm and twisting it. The dagger clattered to the floor, but the figure lashed out with a kick, sending Zander staggering back.
Aron swung his candlestick, catching the figure on the shoulder. They stumbled, giving Zander an opening to tackle them to the ground.
The figure struggled, but Zander's strength was overwhelming. He pinned them down, pulling back their hood to reveal... the chef.
The chef's face was twisted with rage, his eyes wild. "You fools," he spat. "You don't understand what you've walked into."
"Then explain," Aron said, stepping closer. "Why are you doing this? Who are you working for?"
The chef laughed bitterly. "You think this is about me? This mansion... it has its own rules. And you're already too late."
"What do you mean?" Zander demanded, tightening his grip.
The chef's laughter faded, replaced by a grim smile. "You'll see soon enough."
Before anyone could react, the chef bit down on something hidden in his mouth. His body convulsed, and within moments, he was dead.
The group stood in stunned silence, the weight of the chef's cryptic words hanging over them.
"We're missing something," Aron said finally, his voice tense. "Something big."
Zander nodded, his expression grim. "He said the mansion has its own rules. What does that mean?"
Aron's mind raced, connecting the dots. The poisoned guests, the escalating attacks, the cryptic notes—it all felt like pieces of a puzzle he couldn't quite see.
"Everything we've found has been a misdirection," Aron said, his voice gaining strength. "The poisonings, the attacks—they're distractions. The real question isn't who's behind this. It's what's behind this."
"What are you saying?" Livia asked, her voice strained.
Aron turned to face the group, his eyes sharp. "This isn't about a murder. It's about control. The mansion isn't just a setting—it's part of the test. And we've been playing right into its hands."