Condition

As they discussed the photograph and pieced together the clues.

There was a knock on the door.

Three. Very slow. Very steady.

Like the heartbeat of the house, knocking straight into the chests of all six people standing around the tea table.

Ali immediately grabbed the handle of the water knife, standing up on guard. Abigail took a slight step back. Blun only tilted his head slightly, his eyes suddenly shining with interest.

The door opened. No hinges. No draft.

And there stood the butler, leaning forward, one hand clasped across his stomach.

"The Duke has arrived."

He said and stepped aside.

Stepping through the threshold, a young man appeared.

His long golden hair, tied back to one side with a dark red ribbon, shone like a thread of light caught from the sun.

He was dressed in formal European-style attire, consisting of a black velvet vest, a stiff-collared white shirt, and a silver-gray cloak embroidered with red thread in a four-petaled flower pattern.

Matching the symbol on the basement doorknob.

And his eyes. Red. As red as a ruby ​​set in white snow. Under the corner of his left eye was a small, dark mole, neat as if it had been deliberately applied with a brush.

He entered the room, neither fast nor slow.

No one said anything. No one dared to ask anything.

The person before them was strangely similar to the "seventh girl" in the photo. Not the same sex. Not the same figure. But the same soul. The same facial features. The same eyes. The same mole.

He stood there, his lips slightly curved, as if he were smiling.

Daniel smiled as he entered, letting the light slide across his blond hair and his ruby-red eyes.

There was no need to speak loudly, his voice was loud enough for everyone to hear clearly, as if it had been carefully calculated beforehand.

"I am thrilled that you have come."

A simple greeting.

But in it, happiness was not an emotion but a social rule.

He stopped in the middle of the room, his eyes sweeping over each person as if appraising each item.

"I have been a bit busy with work recently, it would be rude to keep the distinguished guests waiting in this situation."

The words seemed to float over the tea and cakes, so gentle that anyone could smile if they did not feel a chill down their spines.

"Your resting place has been prepared on the third floor."

Daniel turned around, pulled out the chair at the head of the table himself, and invited them with a graceful movement, without missing a beat.

"Please take a seat. I hope today's tea can make you feel comfortable while waiting for dinner to be prepared."

Beside him, the butler bowed slightly and left, letting the door close as softly as a dream had closed.

Ali sat down first, not out of trust, but because it was easier to hold the knife.

Abigail was still looking at the duke as if trying to put his image back where she had seen it before.

Blun touched his teacup lightly.

Daniel sat down last, in the middle of the table. The place reserved for the master of ceremonies.

Daniel sat down at the head of the table, his movements so elegant that it was impossible to tell if he was acting or natural.

He poured tea into the cup, the golden tea shimmering, steaming slightly, then smiled.

"The climate here is a bit erratic. It's rarely sunny for long. It's clear in the morning, foggy at noon, and by evening…"

He tilted his head slightly, his red eyes as if he was absorbed in the teacup.

"…I can barely see anything through the glass window anymore."

The words were as light as the tea smoke. But each word felt like an iron hook stabbing straight into the throats of the six people sitting there.

Abigail tightened her grip on the handle of the cup. Dex glanced at the door behind him, the light outside was like milk, and not a single footstep could be seen. Suan quietly began to write something on the palm of his hand.

Blun continued to sip his tea as if nothing had happened, his eyes half interested, half indifferent.

Ali sat slightly tilted, the knife hidden in his shirt had melted into water and was silently flowing around the edge of the table like a silver ring.

Daniel didn't miss a beat.

He put down his teacup, tapping his fingernails on the ceramic.

"That's why few people come here. The path is winding, sometimes people say it changes when it gets cold."

That made Clinton's eyes twitch. Suan's hand stopped.

Ali narrowed his eyes.

"The weather... affects the structure of space?"

Daniel smiled gently.

"Oh no. I wouldn't dare talk so scientifically. It's just..."

"... these strange rumors appear here quite often. It's really interesting, isn't it?"

In the fireplace, the fire was still burning.

But everyone was starting to feel like the room wasn't getting any warmer.

Daniel put down his teacup, clasped his hands lightly on the table, his back straight and his smile still the same, gentle to the point of being impeccable.

"I'm glad you accepted my invitation."

"The necessary guidance from you would be a very meaningful thing for them."

The words were as light as silk. But for a moment, the whole room seemed to be sucked out of sound.

No one responded immediately. Because no one understood what he was saying.

Abigail tilted her head slightly. Blun narrowed his eyes. Dex glanced at Suan, the only one who was silently scratching something on her hands.

Ali didn't say anything. But her hand had already been placed back on the handle of the water knife under the table.

Daniel still smiled, as if he had just said something completely normal.

"But I wonder if you had any difficulties on the way here? The weather is a bit erratic right now."

"I heard that the northern transit area has been blocked by the collapse of rocks for the past few months. Has it not been cleared yet?"

"Oh, and Mr. Dex's business… is it doing well these days? Are they still sending people to buy at the old price?"

Everyone looked at each other. No one had ever mentioned "Dex's business". No one remembered the "northern transit area" in any introduction. Worse, Dex himself couldn't remember if he was doing any "business".

Suan was the first of the newcomers to notice. She looked at Daniel, then at each person around the table, her eyes widening.

Blun calmly ate her biscuit, and Ali just silently waited for Daniel to mention them so she could know what their roles were this time.

He was throwing hints.

Not hints for the conversation. But hints for their roles.

For the roles that each person had to play in this instance.

In survival-type game dungeons, all players will be assigned to roles with identities that rationalize their existence in the game dungeon.

Their identities will sometimes be directly related to the plot and events in the game dungeon.

They can find information about their identities and backgrounds in the game dungeon in many ways, among which is automatically talking to relevant NPCs is extremely useful.

Usually only appears in dungeons with new players.

Daniel looked at Dex with red eyes that sparkled like wine reflecting firelight.

"Is business going well?"

"I heard that the eastern market is shaky these days because of… the raw material leaks. You're still cooperating with the Velens port, right?"

Dex frowned a little.

Then, in a flash, his lips curled up slightly, and although his face was still tense, he still forced a smile as natural as possible.

"Ah, yes. It's… okay."

"The old contracts are still running. The Velens haven't caused any major trouble, luckily."

He took a sip of tea as if to cover up his previous statement. It didn't sound too convincing. But he didn't dislocate his shoulders.

Daniel smiled. A frighteningly light nod.

"Luckily."

A "lucky"… as if if Dex got one detail wrong, the next sentence wouldn't be about tea and cakes anymore.

The atmosphere seemed to sink in a breath.

Ali remained silent, but his gaze began to mark every word Daniel said.

Suan began to pay attention to every detail and word Daniel said. Daniel turned to Blun.

"And sir, I heard that you have a good eye for investment? The auction of the villa next to the southern cliff… is it satisfactory?"

Blun finally waited until Daniel asked him for more information about his identity, as an experienced player, he quickly got into character.

Blun gently lifted his teacup, parting his lips just enough to reveal a calm smile.

"It's actually quite good. Although the rumors around are a bit… but it's okay. It's a profit."

After speaking, he nodded slightly as if he believed what he had just said.

Daniel smiled, his eyes shining with obvious appreciation, a type of appreciation that was not simply for the content, but for the acting.

He couldn't help but sigh in his heart, experienced veterans are different.

"That's great. I've always admired those who dare to see silver in the mist."

"You are indeed the type of person who knows how to exploit opportunities. So... what is your next investment plan?"

Blun did not hesitate. He tilted his head, his eyes slightly lowered, just like someone who was considering billions of gold:

"I'm eyeing the eastern swamp. The soil is moist, the price is still low, but the trade route from the northern salt mine that passes through there... I heard it's about to reopen."

Daniel nodded slowly.

"Ah... the salt mine route. It's been a long time since anyone mentioned it."

"If that's the case, you really have a vision. It's worth learning from."

After Blun's fluent reply, Daniel smiled. The smile of a polite and warm host.

But that same warmth quietly poured over all six people in the room like a velvet blanket covering their mouths. Not suffocating, just stifling.

Ali said nothing.

She kept her eyes on Daniel, full of high alert. No obvious expression appeared on her face, but her back was a little straighter, her breathing low and even, her fingers gently sliding down under the table, touching the blade of the water knife as if to remind herself that she still had a choice.

She didn't trust Daniel. She didn't trust this room either.

But she trusted most of all Blun's fearlessness. In front of an NPC who could be the final boss of the dungeon and still be so calm, it could only be someone from the Church of Fate.

Abigail was the opposite. She curled up slightly, as if the cold air of the room was starting to seep into her thick clothes.

Her chest heaved with her rapid but suppressed breathing, her eyes kept darting from Daniel to Blun, then across each of the remaining faces.

Dex sat still. His appearance was still calm, but anyone who paid close attention would see that the hand on his thigh had tightened.

Suan just looked. She didn't blink. She didn't tilt her head. All her reactions were hidden behind her eyes.

Suddenly, Clinton's eyes met hers. He wasn't just following the conversation between Blun and Daniel, he was also following each person's gestures.

He was indeed very true to what could be seen on the outside, cold and extremely wary of others.