Time passed, and everybody got more comfortable in Ectal's house. Conrad looked at Ectal and spoke.
"I'm feeling a little bit tired. Can you show me where I can rest?"
Ectal smiled and nodded.
"Of course. Follow me."
Conrad followed Ectal upstairs, and they entered the room on the right. Ectal opened the door and smiled.
"There are two beds here—my sons' room. You can sleep here."
Conrad nodded and sat down on the wooden bed, while Ectal closed the door and went downstairs.
The room was simple: two beds, one small table, and a small window that had no glass but could be closed. That was it.
"It's not like I expected much,"
Conrad thought as he lay down on the pillow filled with hay and closed his eyes for a moment.
He started thinking about everything that had happened—from the moment he met Liebeld and the others in the house, to the words everyone had spoken.
He also thought seriously about survival.
What if the "Survive" missions implied that only a limited number would live—and that to survive, one must dirty their hands?
"If that's the case, Liebeld has the advantage. His physical power is superhuman..."
"But there's always a chance that the Admin and Mystery gave each person different missions."
Conrad couldn't help but think about the many things that may or may not be happening. He had many questions he wanted to ask, but he knew that questions unlikely to be answered should not be asked at all.
"..."
"I shouldn't draw attention to myself."
"I need to stay silent," Conrad told himself. He may not have been well-versed in dangerous survival situations, but he knew it was better to keep quiet and not draw attention.
The ones who speak up and gather attention are always the first to die.
—
Orvel watched the fire burn with the others. He let out a cold breath, closed his eyes for a moment, and snapped back with fear, remembering Melboue's strange corpse.
"Yeah..."
"I suppose that would be a pretty bad end," he thought, and smirked.
He looked at the others from the corner of his eye and couldn't help but wonder:
"I get that people might be shocked and still processing everything that's happened..."
"But I didn't expect anyone other than Liebeld to be this calm and collected."
"Ordinary people would be afraid—watching the door and windows constantly…"
"The fear of darkness, the fear of the unknown would consume their minds and agitate them."
"But I don't see that..." Orvel let out a deep breath and shook his head.
There was nothing to do for the time being. He thought it might be best to rest like Conrad.
He got up, looked at Ectal and the others, and said he was going to rest.
Ectal nodded, and the others said nothing.
"Your friend, Conrad, is sleeping in the first room on the left. You can go there or choose the room on the right."
Orvel nodded.
"Thank you," he said.
—
Conrad, who was still thinking, looked at the door as it opened. Orvel whispered:
"Conrad, are you sleeping?"
Conrad smiled.
"Yeah, I don't think it's easy to sleep in this kind of situation."
Orvel grinned, entered the room, and sat on the empty bed across from where Conrad was lying. After a moment of silence, he asked:
"What do you think of all the events?"
Conrad shook his head, sat up on the bed like Orvel, and replied:
"There's nothing to add."
Orvel was surprised to hear it and asked:
"How?"
"I'm sure you have many questions in your mind too..."
Conrad laughed in response.
"Of course, I have many questions..."
"But I know I won't get answers right now."
"So it's better not to focus on them—and keep a clear head."
Orvel gulped and furrowed his brows.
"Scary..."
"What a strong mind," he thought to himself.
He couldn't help but be impressed.
Orvel then asked:
"May I ask you a personal question?"
Conrad smirked.
"If I say no, that wouldn't be very kind of me, would it?"
Orvel laughed and asked:
"What did you do before waking up in that white place—then being transported to the House, like us?"
Conrad thought for a moment.
"I'm not sure," he said.
"My memory's fuzzy."
"I believe I worked in philosophy—or something like that."
Orvel nodded.
He didn't fully believe Conrad's story about his memory being fuzzy, but he knew better than to keep pressing with questions.
Conrad then looked at Orvel for a moment and said:
"I'm sure you were some sort of police... a detective, perhaps?"
Orvel gulped.
"How?"
Conrad opened his hands in a jokingly harmless way.
"No need to be scared. I just observed and thought about it."
"You move and act like the people I've seen in movies—the ones who are detectives."
Orvel calmed down and shook his head.
"That's not great."
Conrad smirked.
"What's not great?"
Orvel added:
"I didn't expect to be identified that easily."
Conrad smirked again and spoke in a calm tone.
"I remember my friends back in normal times used to tell me I was quite observant."
Orvel nodded.
"I can see that."
At that moment, Liebeld's voice came from downstairs:
"Orvel, Conrad—come downstairs. Something's happening!"
Conrad and Orvel looked at each other, got up, and headed down together.