# CHAPTER 3:- WHAT FRIEND'S HIDE?
The screen in the room flashed a harsh white light, brighter than the tube lights already lining the ceiling. Around the players, three or four cameras hung from black rods, suspended above like watchful eyes. And the one watching through them all was none other than the Host.
In a small, dimly lit control room, a man sat slouched in a chair. A black top hat tilted on his head, with a few strands of brown curls spilling onto his temple. He wore a long black-and-red coat over tight black pants, and a single round monocle with a blue lens glimmered over his left eye.
Beside him stood a woman, arms crossed. Her sharp brown eyes and long black hair framed her face, her formal black suit coat crisp over a white shirt.
The man called out lazily, his voice carrying a crooked grin: "Soni… what's your take this time? Which one would you bet on?"
Soni replied, voice calm but edged with arrogance."Mr. Double, your bets are pointless. I never joined them. But that brown-haired boy—he's sharp. Already analyzing everything."
Double arched his brows, lips curling into a smirk. "How many times have I told you? Call me Boss. Whatever." He leaned forward, narrowing his eyes at the screen. "But I've got my eye on the one in the white cap…"
On the massive display, split into four quadrants, each camera showed the live feed of the trembling players below.
The tension in the players' room thickened fast, almost like the air itself was squeezing them. Sweat ran down faces as the same thought gnawed at everyone: Why me—and are we already dead either way?
A girl in the corner finally snapped. She slammed her palms on the table and shouted at her teammates, "Don't you get it? This is suicide—whether we play or not, we're dead! That bastard's watching us from behind the cameras, enjoying our torture!"
The girl beside her grabbed her sleeve, whispering, "Hey, stop—Nepho can see you."
"Fuck off, I don't care," the corner girl spat, and thrust the hand away. But the moment her eyes landed on Nepho up on the stage, something changed. His smile stayed fixed, but his eyes flashed red—flat, empty, terrifying. It hit her like a current: goosebumps raced up her arms, and she stared as if stunned.
She clutched her head, whispering through her teeth, "He's… he's terrifying. We're going to die. Definitely."
A ripple of whispers ran through the room. "What happened?" someone asked. "Why did she stop like that?"
No one had an answer. The cameras kept watching.
By now, everyone understood the truth—they had no choice. They had to follow Nepho's words and the rules of this game. Resistance only meant death.
The players settled into uneasy silence. Fear still clung to every face, but some tried to comfort their partners, whispering words of reassurance—especially those who were close friends.
Nivana, after watching all of this, finally leaned forward toward his team. His voice was calm but firm.
"We're going to start. Let's roll now."
Rosna's eyes widened. She turned sharply to him.
"But… no one else has started yet. Why us?"
Nivana leaned back in his chair, tilting his head slightly to the right. He gestured with his eyes for them to look.
"You see? That team already rolled. One of them even got a six. There's no time limit written anywhere, but that doesn't mean we should delay. Let's roll now."
Rara and Rosna exchanged a look, then both nodded in agreement. Vicy, as always, showed no reaction—he simply went along with what the team decided.
Nivana tossed the dice lightly into the air, catching it in his palm. His brows lifted as he asked calmly, "Are you ready? We'll roll all at once."
A quiet chorus of nods answered him. "Hmm…"
Together, the four of them dropped their dice into the boxes. The lids snapped shut immediately with a mechanical click.
Rara's lips pressed tight as his shoulders stiffened. Rosna crossed her fingers, eyes trembling with fear. Vicy leaned back, arms crossed, face unreadable. And Nivana sat half-eyed, as calm as ever.
A few seconds ticked by in heavy silence. Then—on the side of each box, glowing numbers appeared in sharp yellow digits.
Nivana's eyes widened slightly. Rara's mouth formed a shocked "O." Rosna covered her lips with her hand, trembling. Vicy only raised a brow, still expressionless.
Nepho stepped forward, his footsteps echoing across the tense room. He leaned in close to inspect their results. Then, with a sharp grin, he chuckled:
"Hehe… safe points, lucky you."
The glowing numbers read:
Nivana → 2
Rara → 4
Rosna → 5
Vicy → 3
Nepho's grin stretched unnaturally wide, his eyes glinting red for just a second.
"But not for long…"
Nivana's team prepared for their second roll when a sudden shout erupted from two rows to their left.
"Why the hell did I get three sixes in a row?! I don't want to play this fucking—"
The boy froze mid-sentence. The memory of Sunny and Shaurya's fate flashed across his face, draining the color from it. Slowly, almost unwillingly, he turned his head toward Nepho.
The referee stood there, watching him with unnatural calm, eyes gleaming like a quiet warning.
The boy's voice died instantly. His lips trembled, but no sound came out. The silence that followed was heavy, suffocating—everyone in the room knew exactly why he had fallen quiet. They also knew how dangerously stupid his outburst had been.
Rara broke the silence, raising his hand slightly.
"Anyway… let's roll, I guess."
The others nodded. Each of them reached for the dice inside the box.
One detail caught their attention this time—the dice face they saw when rolling was the same number that appeared digitally afterward. No rigged tricks. No hidden manipulation. The system, at least on the surface, seemed fair.
They exchanged brief glances. Then, together, they rolled.
Clack. The dice tumbled inside the box. A soft click sealed it shut for a few seconds, the suspense dragging everyone's nerves taut.
Rosna and Rara's heartbeats thundered in their chests. Vicy's arms remained crossed, his expression unreadable. Nivana sat with his usual calm, though his eyes tracked every detail.
The box lit up. Yellow digits appeared on the table.
Nivana's brow arched. Rara's eyes flew wide. Rosna slapped a trembling hand to her mouth, while Vicy simply blinked.
The results glowed before them:
Nivana → 6
Rara → 6
Rosna → 1
Vicy → 3
The glowing screens beside Nivana's and Rara's heads flickered.
20 → 14
Both of their life points dropped instantly. The sudden deduction silenced even the whispers in the room.
From Nivana's right side, Nepho's voice slithered in like a snake.
"Hehehe… girl, you rolled a 1." His grin stretched unnaturally wide. "That means you'll have to badmouth your friend…"
He tilted his gaze upward, eyes glowing red while his face stayed perfectly still.
"…But remember—" his tone cracked into a shrill pitch, "—it has to be true."
Rosna froze, her trembling hands clenched tightly in her lap. Slowly, she lifted her head. Her eyes darted toward Vicy, who was already staring back at her. He gave a small nod, a silent gesture urging her to speak.
Rosna's lips trembled as if the words themselves resisted leaving her mouth. Her fists clenched tightly against the striped fabric of her pants, and after a long, shaky sigh she finally burst out:
"Vicy… I'm sorry for this, but I have to."
She lowered her head, unable to meet his eyes.
"I know you always act cold, so confident… but I also know you cried in your room after losing that school match."
The words landed like a blade.
Vicy's face flushed red instantly. His jaw tightened, and he jerked his head to the side, refusing to make eye contact with anyone.
Rara furrowed his brows, sneaking a sidelong glance at him with the faintest smirk tugging his lips. 'Seriously? I always thought he was the cool type…'
Across the table, Nivana sat still, his calm gaze fixed on Rosna, watching her closely without a word. Her cheeks burned scarlet, and she pressed her palms together in a hurried gesture of apology.
"Sorry, Vicy… but I had to say it. We need to win."
Vicy coughed lightly into his fist, masking the crack in his composure.
"No worries." His voice was low, forced steady, though his ears still glowed red.
Rara's thoughts spun instantly, 'They're so different… so stiff and formal, yet somehow they're close enough to know things like this. Weird. Whatever. I should be thinking about me and Nivana right now.' His eyes flicked toward his friend, 'The worst part? We both just got sixes together… and this guy's still sitting there, calm as ever. Like none of this even matters.'
Vicy raised his hand, voice cutting through the silence.
"Okay, whatever. Shall we roll the third one?"
Rara's brows shot up—it was unexpected. Even Nivana turned his calm gaze toward him. With nothing more than a few nods, the group agreed.
The boxes clicked open. They each reached inside for their die.
"The number's the same again…" Nivana muttered under his breath, twirling it once before tossing it into the box.
*Clank!* The die landed. The boxes snapped shut.
A hush fell over the table.
Vicy's brows arched. Rara's heartbeat hammered in his chest. But Rosna and Nivana sat still—both unnervingly calm.
Then the yellow digits flickered to life above the table:
Vicy → 1
Rosna → 3
Rara → 1
Nivana → 5
Nepho leapt forward, his dice-face grinning unnaturally wide.
"Hehehe… now, now, now…" He spread his arms—one pointing toward Rara, the other toward Vicy.
"You both rolled a one. That means… you both have to badmouth your friends. At the same time."
Rara and Vicy stiffened, brows furrowed.
"What?" they whispered in unison.
Rara turned toward Nivana. Nivana barely moved—half his eyes shut, his head resting lazily against his palm, as if none of this mattered.
Vicy's gaze shifted to Rosna instead. She gave him a small nod, a faint bounce of encouragement, urging him to just say something simple and get it over with.
And then—
they both spoke.
Rara burst out first, his tone almost playful.
"Nivana, I don't like how you suck at sports every time."
Nivana chuckled faintly, lips curling in a calm smile.
But then Vicy's voice cut through the air like a knife.
"Rosna… you slept with our senior back in school. For money."
The entire game froze.
Rosna's body shook as if struck by lightning. Her eyes widened—wider and wider—until tears welled up, spilling down her trembling face.
"What the hell…?" Rara muttered, brows tightening.
Nivana's gaze finally shifted. Silent, sharp, fixed on Rosna.
She couldn't move, couldn't breathe—only stare at Vicy, her lips quivering, eyes full of disbelief and betrayal.
Vicy avoided her eyes.
And that was when Nepho's grin stretched to its limits. He slipped a small slip of paper back into his pocket, just out of sight. On it, a single line was scrawled in jagged letters:
~If you badmouth her with something truly dark, your chances of survival will increase…~
Rosna's face flushed crimson, her eyes burned with humiliation and rage. She lowered her head, her lips trembling as the words slipped out in a broken whisper.
"Why…? Why, Vicy, why?"
Her voice cracked, rising into a pained scream.
"Why, Vicy?! Aren't we friends?!"
But Vicy didn't answer. He kept his face turned away, refusing to meet her gaze. Not once. Not even for a second.
Rosna's tears spilled harder, streaming down her cheeks as her sobs filled the silence. She collapsed forward, covering her face with both hands, her body shaking.
Rara's brows furrowed. His patience snapped.
"Hey, dude, what the hell is wrong with you?!"
Before he could say more, Rosna grabbed his wrist. Shaking her head violently, she gave him a desperate gesture—don't. Her eyes begged for no more humiliation.
Rara's lips pressed tightly together, forming a thin, straight line. His expression softened, sympathy pouring into his eyes like a helpless puppy staring at someone in pain.
And Nivana—he finally straightened in his chair. His eyes, calm till now, locked coldly onto Vicy.
'This game… it's even more dangerous than I thought. It doesn't just take your life points—it tears you apart from the inside. Looking at Rosna now, her disbelief is real. When Vicy spat those words, she froze—like her very world cracked open. It wasn't the dice that decided who died here. It was trust.'
Nepho's laugh split through the silence, high-pitched and cruel.
"Hehehe… that's it. That's what Master loves." Nepho tilted his head, clapping like a child as he sing-songed:
"Sad-ness~ Des-pair~ Be-trayal~! Master loooves those things!"
In the control room, Double's laughter erupted like thunder, echoing against the walls. Pointing at the glowing screen, he howled:
"Ha… ha… ha! That's it! That's exactly what I'm talking about!"
Soni, still standing with her arms crossed, gave the screen a long, thoughtful look. Her voice was calm but edged with surprise.
"I didn't expect that boy to accept the offer so quickly. Interesting…"
Double spread his arms wide, laughter booming once again.
"HAHAHA! Humans… the most insecure creatures in the world!"
He leaned back in his chair, eyes gleaming.
"Perfect toys for a perfect game."