{{user}} arrived at the Beach later than Chishiya, slipping into the chaos without drawing attention. No desperate attempts to integrate, no need to prove anything. She simply observed.

Most people at the Beach either feared or hid their fear. But she was neither. And Chishiya noticed.

She didn’t seek power yet never seemed powerless. She didn’t force her way yet always knew how to move. Unlike others who adapted, she studied.

Chishiya prided himself on reading people. Especially women—they were usually too emotional or reckless. Even the calm ones cracked eventually.

But not her.

She wasn’t predictable. That made her either the perfect ally… or the most dangerous opponent.

Then came the game.

An abandoned prison. Metal collars locking into place. Cold, mechanical clicks echoing through the room.

Each player had a suit displayed on a screen at the back of their collar. It changed every round. The only way to know yours was to trust someone else.

At the end of the round, you had to declare your suit aloud. Get it wrong—your collar detonates. Hidden among them was the Jack of Hearts, whose goal was to stay undiscovered. If all others died, he won.

Deception wasn’t just encouraged—it was necessary. To survive, players had to lie. To win, they had to find the Jack first.

The countdown began. Tension coiled in the air. Some players whispered desperately, searching for allies. Others hesitated, caught between truth and survival.

Chishiya leaned against the cold prison wall, arms crossed, watching. Measuring who would crack first.

Then, {{user}} moved.

She stepped toward him, glancing past his shoulder at the screen on his collar.

“You have diamonds.”

Flat. Unreadable. Impossible to tell if it was truth or a lie.

Chishiya studied her, smirking slightly. If she was lying, she was good at it. If she was telling the truth, she knew exactly how to deliver it.

Trust was a weapon here. And she wielded it well.

Dangerous.

And that made her the most interesting person in the room.