The hallway was quieter than usual.
After the unsettling morning revelations and the dry, empty vote, the atmosphere had turned cold, from confusion. No one knew what was going on anymore. We were all pawns waiting for someone to tip the board over.
I headed back to my dorm late in the evening. No particular reason just needed to think. To isolate myself. Breathe without the constant tension of eyes, voices, paranoia.
But just as I turned the corner near the west wing staircase, I felt a presence behind me.
"Hey… going somewhere?"
The voice was silk. Soft, alluring, and unmistakably familiar.
I turned, and there she was.
The Hostess.
Leaning casually against the wall, her hair tousled, lips curved into a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. She stepped forward—heels clicking lightly against the tile—then circled around me like a feline inspecting her prey.
"I noticed you've been keeping to yourself lately," she said, voice low and slow. "So… serious. So distant. You should relax once in a while."
She leaned close, her perfume hitting me like a wave. Sweet. Heavy. Fogging my senses.
Then just like that my head started spinning.
I blinked. My legs felt light. My balance shifted for a second.
It wasn't normal.
She did something.
"Relax," she whispered, fingers brushing my arm. Leaning my head towards her cleavage. "I don't bite…"
For a brief moment, I nearly lost control. The world swam—like I was submerged in warm water. My thoughts dulled at the edges, and the whisper of her voice almost made me forget where I was. She made everything so soothing like I'm in the mellows like a baby getting carried by a mother…
Almost.
I let my eyes droop. Let my stance falter. I swayed slightly, slurring my words just enough.
"Heh… you're… really beautiful…"
She smiled, clearly pleased.
"You think so? I bet you've been watching me, haven't you?"
I gave a lazy nod like a drunk man, trying not to gag at the taste of the words.
But deep down, I wasn't lost.
Not even close.
I was watching her every move. Tracking the slight flicker in her gaze when I was constantly alone.
And every time she touched me, every time her fingers slid down my wrist or up my neck—I didn't react. I calculated every step she make making sure I'm not trapped but she is.
She was trying to dig for information. Probing me. Seducing me to lower my guard. But more than that—
She was fishing for my role.
"So… any secrets you wanna share with me?" she purred.
I gave a drunken laugh, leaning against her cleavage. "Secrets? Nah… I'm just some boring civilian… that's what my… card said"
I watched her eyes narrow. Just for a second.
She stayed close for a moment longer, but I could sense the disappointment radiating off her. Whatever high I felt earlier was already fading, my mind sharpening again.
Finally, she pulled away.
Her heels echoed as she walked off, hips swaying in rhythm, and just before she turned the corner—
I saw her mouth move.
Just one word.
"Useless."
She didn't think I caught that.
But I did.
As soon as she was gone, I went inside my dorm, leaned against the wall, heart pounding—not from desire, but from the adrenaline. I closed my eyes for a moment, letting the clarity rush back in full force.
This was real.
Not just seduction. Influence.
She did something to me.
Which meant… this wasn't just a personality trait.
It was a role skill.
My deductions:
The Hostess has a unique ability, possibly bound to seduction.
The timing suggests it activates at night. Maybe limited to once per cycle.
She used some kind of scent or aura to dull my senses—enhancing her manipulation.
But more importantly, she seemed focused on one thing: confirming roles.
Meaning…
Her ability isn't just charm.
It's probably intel-based skill or maybe passive.
She targets others and attempts to extract clues about their identity.
Possibly with limitations—maybe the power doesn't work if the target lies, or maybe it only works on those who willingly engage.
My act worked. Barely.
But now I know what she's capable of.
And more importantly I know she suspects me of being harmless.
That's the advantage I needed.
As soon as the door to my dorm clicked shut behind me, I exhaled. My hand instinctively reached for the back of my neck—the skin still prickled from the Hostess's touch, the scent of her perfume lingering faintly on my clothes.
My mind was racing, trying to piece together everything she said… and everything she didn't.
But just as I was about to take a breath, a sharp thud echoed through the room.
Something fell.
It came from the wardrobe.
Immediately, I tensed. My heartbeat slowed—not from fear, I stepped forward slowly, quietly. I didn't even have time to reach for a weapon. The only thing in this room was me I slowly put my card on the desk while preparing myself to defend.
As I placed a hand on the wardrobe handle, preparing to open it—
The door creaked open on its own.
And she stepped out.
The silent girl.
The one who never spoke.
The one no one knew.
She stood there in the half-shadow, her frame slight, expression blank—almost detached. Her short black hair fell over her eyes,
What the hell…
I took two steps back.
"What are you doing here?" I asked sharply.
She flinched.
My mind exploded with questions:
Why me?
How did she get in?
Is this part of her role?
Is this an ability?
Is she the killer?
Before I could ask again, she raised both hands in front of her like she was surrendering.
"I… I'm sorry," she whispered, voice trembling. "I didn't mean to scare you. I just—"
Her eyes darted toward my desk. "When you opened the wardrobe earlier… I saw your card. You left it on the table for a second."
My breath caught.
She saw.
She knows.
"You're a civilian," she said quietly.
I didn't respond. I didn't confirm, didn't deny. I just watched.
She noticed my silence and quickly added, "I swear, I'm not an enemy. I'm not part of the killer team."
I narrowed my eyes. "Then what are you?"
She hesitated.
Then, slowly, she reached into her pocket and pulled something out—a smooth card, shiny and very different from my card, it was color white like a marble. She stepped forward and extended it to me.
I didn't take it immediately. I looked at her.
"I can trust you," she said softly. "Because you're not one of the bad ones."
I reached out slowly and took the card from her.
DOCTOR
Role: You may heal one civilian per night if present in their dorm.
She said, my name is Kara Fens
I looked back at her.
That was when it hit me.
Selene.
The wounds.
The stitches.
The fact that she should have died… but didn't.
"You saved Selene! You're the one who saved her," I said.
The word hung between us. Kara Fens nodded lightly.
My fingers curled slightly around the edge of her card. "Doctor…"
"I figured it was you," I muttered. "Selene wouldn't have survived otherwise."
She looked away, pressing her lips tightly together. "I… don't know how she got healed completely like it has magic. But I had to try to do it with the experience I had."
"I heard something… I saw movement. I didn't know who was there. But I was close enough to act when it happened," Kara said quietly. "I can't reveal myself to everyone. I don't know who to trust yet. But you… you didn't vote today. You didn't throw around accusations. You think before you speak."
Her voice shook, but her words were clear. "I've been hiding in the shadows because I have to. If they find out who I am, I'll be targeted next."
I studied her for a long moment.
She was cautious. Intelligent. Strategic.
And more importantly she made the right decision.
"You shouldn't be here," I said. "If someone else saw you, they might not think like I do."
"I know," she murmured. But… I just… wanted you to know."
She turned toward the window, where the night breeze had pushed the curtain aside.
"I only have one shot per night, If I picked wrong the other would have died" she whispered.
In my mind:
The Doctor.
A rare and powerful role in Mafia.
In the original game, she or he was one of the few defenses against inevitable death.
But in this twisted version of the game, the rules are bending.
Selene didn't even know she was saved. The Doctor didn't confront the attacker, just healed her.
Which means… Kara is stealth-based. Her card doesn't make her a fighter.
She's not immune to danger.
"You should've left already," I said. "If someone sees you in here—"
"I stayed," she interrupted, her tone firmer this time. "Because I think you're in danger."
I blinked.
"You said I shouldn't be here," she continued, her eyes scanning the shadows of the dorm. She took a step forward, hands clenched tightly at her sides.
"After I healed the girl… I didn't go back to my dorm right away. I watched."
She looked straight at me, eyes sharp now, cutting through the silence.
"There was someone outside your door. When the reporter just got almost killed, it was probably a double murder at that night. Someone standing still. Just watching. They never knocked. They never tried to come in. But they were there for almost five minutes before leaving. I thought it was just my shadow but after thorough inspection it was a person"
I felt a chill coil down my spine.
"How do you know they weren't just—"
"They weren't lost," Kara cut in. "They were waiting. Maybe deciding."
My mind reeled.
Was it the Hostess?
The Gangster?
Someone else entirely?
And more importantly why me?
Was it because I'm weak?
Maybe because I'm alone?
And then she struck my thought. "The killer thought maybe you're just a civilian that's why it was best to kill the weak 1st. You're not just a civilian," Kara said, as if reading my thoughts. "You're thinking more than most of the others. You're observing. That makes you a threat if the killer found out."
I stayed silent.
She asked. "Can I see your card?"
I gave her card as she inspect it she saw the difference. "You see the brain icon beside the title it means you're more than just a civilian your one of anomalies if you know the old game Mafia, civilians are always useless but in this game it is different."
She was right.
But I couldn't let myself get emotional about it. Not now. I gave her card, but she pushed my hand away gently.
"Keep it for now," she said. "You've earned that much and I trust you to keep it safely there's no rules we can't allow to give the cards."
I raised an eyebrow. "You're trusting me with this?"
She gave a small, tired smile. "You could've screamed the second I showed up in your room. You didn't. You listened."
I was heartfelt in that moment. I'm not alone in this crazy game. "Then at least keep my card we can exchange it I don't think the roles will be swap so for now have that so you are least important and nobody knew you're the doctor if someone find the card."
Her voice wavered for the first time.
"Thank you. I've been alone in this game since the start. Hiding. Running. Healing people I don't know, because that's what I'm supposed to do. But now… I think you might actually help me survive this."
I sat down on the edge of my bed, absorbing everything.
The Hostess tried seducing me for Intel.
Kara snuck into my room because I was in danger.
Someone else… watched my door in the dark last night.
And only eight days have passed.
The silence stretched between us for a moment.
"Why me?" I asked finally. "Why not tell someone like the Soldier or the Reporter?"
Kara shrugged slightly. "The Soldier's too loud. The Reporter is unpredictable. You? You're trying to win I can feel it."
I let that hang.
And then she sat beside the door, pulling her knees to her chest, not speaking.
"You staying?" I asked.
"For tonight," she replied without looking up. "I'll be gone by dawn. But I want to make sure whoever's watching doesn't come back. And if you're in danger I could just heal you."
In my mind:
Kara Fens. The Doctor.
The role every Mafia game hinges on the lifeline, the miracle.
She works in the shadows, heals in silence, and trusts no one.
Except now, for some reason… me.
Her words echo in my head.
"You're thinking more than most."
It's not arrogance that I do it out of whim. It's for survival. I've been observing everything. The dry voting round, the broken discussion, the subtle actions of each player. And now I understand something deeper:
This game it looks simple but everything is in line of your life.
In the original version, roles were simple: Mafia, Doctor, Detective, Civilians.
But here… we have a Soldier. A Hostess. A Hitman. Roles warped beyond the original rulebook.
The game of Dimitry Davidoff is a shell of what we're really in.
Cards represent the real us.
The roles we've been given aren't just for show they reflect how we're expected to act, or maybe how we already do.
And if I'm going to win this…
I need to find the others like Kara.
Not just to survive.
But to solve this game—and whatever twisted person is pulling the strings behind it.
And more than that she chose to help me.
That says a lot.
Maybe this is the beginning of building something real an alliance.
If I can find more like her…
We might actually have a chance at surviving this.
But I also knew one thing
If I could deduce that Selene was saved… others could too.
And if the wrong person figures out who the Doctor is—
Kara Fens will be the next target.
And this time… I or we might not be able to stop it.