Chapter 29
“Damn it.”
I squeezed my eyes shut.
“So I have to participate in the auction after all, huh.”
Taking a step forward, I moved on to the next game.
[We’ve been waiting for you, Visitor.]
[Were you satisfied with the answers from the Truth Game?]
The question scratched at my nerves — as if it could see the look on my face.
I pressed my lips together and glanced around the interior.
A wide, empty space with people gathered in clusters.
They were ghosts pretending to be human again — men, women, young, old, all sorts.
[This time, the game we’ll play is! Drumroll, please.]
[Two games, actually. Hehe.]
Of course I knew that.
This round was one of the trickier ones.
Along one wall, black desks appeared, and over them, tent-like partitions rose — little cubicles, like something for a secret ballot.
[The games are “Roleplay” and “Finger Folding”!]
[You must never reveal your assigned role to anyone. Please step inside one of the booths to receive it.]
[Shall we take a look at your roles now?]
Everyone entered the booths before them. I stepped into the closest one.
A blank sheet of paper lay on the black desk.
[Flip over the paper inside to see your role!]
[Remember — it’s a secret. You must not tell anyone!]
In the original novel, Dan Seo-hyuk had drawn the role of Father.
If he was “Father,” then it really was like playing house, huh.
I wondered what kind of role I’d get.
The novel didn’t describe the other roles, since Dan Seo-hyuk cleared the game quickly.
I flipped the paper over.
<Mistress.>
…What an absolutely cursed role.
Guess this was going to be a joyless kind of “pretend family.”
[Alright, if you’ve checked your roles, please come out!]
[I’ll explain the rules of the game now!]
The cheery voice made my skin crawl as I stepped out of the booth.
The partitions vanished one by one.
[Everyone’s confirmed their roles, right? Now, you must not let anyone discover what your role is, but at the same time, you need to guess the others’ roles.]
[How do you figure that out, you ask? That’s where the “Finger Game” comes in!]
My body moved on its own.
I found myself sitting cross-legged in a circle among the others, raising my open hand high in the air.
Everyone else did the same.
[For example, if Participant A says “Fold your finger if you’ve been married,” then the roles of Grandma, Grandpa, Father, and Mother must fold a finger, right?]
[You keep asking questions to deduce the others’ roles. Once you think you know someone’s role, you shout “Got it! You’re the Father!”]
[Guess correctly, and you clear the game and can leave immediately.]
[However, you can’t directly name roles in your questions. For example, “Fold your finger if you’re the Father or Mother” — that’s forbidden.]
Hmm. A psychological game, then.
“At least the ‘Mistress’ role isn’t common, so it’ll be hard to guess mine.”
Then again, being too unique meant I could easily get exposed through general questions.
For instance, if someone said, “Fold your finger if you’re not part of a family unit,” I’d be done for.
[You also can’t lie. We know all your roles, so if you qualify, we’ll force your finger down for you. Hehe.]
[But! There’s one exception!]
[Everyone wants to protect someone they love, right? If you have a partner you wish to shield, say the word “Black Knight” in your mind.]
[That will revive one finger your partner had to fold.]
[Of course, who knows whether the Father wants to save his wife… his son… or his grandmother.]
That was a rule Dan Seo-hyuk hadn’t taken advantage of.
For him, using it would’ve risked revealing his role — and helping the ghosts wasn’t exactly in his best interest.
Naturally, he hadn’t bothered.
[If anyone’s still confused, the fastest way to learn is to play!]
[Let the game begin!]
Upbeat, bouncy music flowed from unseen speakers — the kind you’d dance to at a party.
[We’ll go clockwise. First up — the lady in the dress!]
The woman across from me. That gave me a little breathing room before my turn.
There were ten participants in total.
No one knew who was playing what.
Dan Seo-hyuk had been the first to guess correctly and escape, so there’d been almost no information about this game in the story.
The woman in the dress spoke first.
“Fold your finger if you have children.”
Some fingers folded slowly—
“UAAAHHH!!”
“KYAAA!!”
Folded? No— severed.
I’d known it in theory, but seeing it in person was far more horrifying.
[Hehe. Maybe we should’ve called it the “Finger Cutting” game instead of “Finger Folding.”]
A sweet voice didn’t make it any less grotesque.
“Of course. What else would you expect from a game run by ghosts?”
Of the ten players, six had lost fingers.
“Six?”
More than I expected.
Besides Grandma, Grandpa, Father, and Mother… who else?
The children wouldn’t have kids, obviously.
I glanced down at my hand.
Still intact. Thank God.
“Right, the Mistress doesn’t count.”
Would’ve been extra scandalous if she did have kids.
[Next question, please!]
Oh, they were thrilled.
What was so fun about pretending to suffer, you smug dead things?
“F-Fold your finger if you’re married!”
The man who’d lost a finger in the first round shouted, trembling.
Again, I didn’t have to fold mine.
[Oh, using the same example I gave, huh?]
[Tsk, tsk. Lacking creativity, but I’ll allow it.]
Those who’d already lost fingers screamed again as more were chopped off.
More shrieks filled the air.
“…Huh?”
Strange.
The man who asked the question didn’t lose any fingers this time.
So he had children, but wasn’t married?
Maybe he had a kid before marriage, or adopted — but with a “Mistress” role in the mix, I doubted this game respected ordinary logic.
Then… could he be the Affair Partner?
While I thought about that, the questions kept going.
“Fold your finger if you’ve been pregnant.”
“Fold your finger if you’ve served in the military.”
Questions that helped guess gender or age.
“Dan Seo-hyuk probably used those kinds of questions to identify the ‘Mother,’ right?”
Smart and lucky. How annoying.
“No, no time to think about him now.”
It was nearly my turn.
And somehow, I hadn’t lost a single finger yet.
“Nearly ten questions and not once hit? Maybe I’ll get out of this without a scratch.”
Just as that hopeful thought crossed my mind—
“Fold your finger if you’ve killed someone.”
…What?
Someone’s fingers were severed instantly.
The man beside me pointed at the bleeding participant and said coolly,
“Got it. That person’s the Murderer.”
“AAAAAHHH!! IT HURTS!! MY FINGERS!!!”
[Oh my, someone’s role has already been discovered!]
Why the hell was that even a role?
The man whose identity was exposed clutched his bleeding hand, shaking violently.
Then the door burst open and two large men entered — wearing aprons stained with who-knows-what, like butchers or fishmongers.
“N-No! Please! Don’t kill me!!”
They grabbed the flailing loser by the arms and dragged him away.
He scraped at the floor desperately, leaving streaks of blood behind, but it was useless.
The one who’d guessed correctly hummed a cheerful tune and strolled out of the room.
“Right. It wasn’t ‘playing house’ after all. It was ‘role-play.’”
I’d assumed too much just from knowing Dan Seo-hyuk’s role.
If there were all sorts of roles beyond “family”…
Then the possibilities were endless.
[Your turn, Participant.]
The voice brought me back — my turn had come.
I stayed silent until the smooth, taunting tone nudged me again.
“…Fold your finger if you have a secret you can’t tell your family.”
My heart pounded.
If that suspected affair partner folded his finger, I could name him and leave.
Slowly, fingers began to bend.
Two of them.
Two people had secrets.
What kind of “secrets” besides infidelity could there be…?
Considering there’d already been a Murderer role, the thought made me shiver.
