Thirteen people sat around the cabin.
The cabin trembled faintly. Sunlight streamed through the glass onto the conference table, then reflected off the Clown Masks on everyone's faces, casting a ridiculous glow.
Around the conference table, numbers 0 through 12 were arranged clockwise.
These were the Thirteen Apostles of Spring Thunder.
Player B had naturally paid a price to join them.
He had revealed the crucial secret that by killing a cheater and enduring the price, one could seize the other party's cheat.
But in many scenarios, killing someone meant a death sentence.
In feudal times, cheaters often gained high social status. If an ordinary person killed one, even a pregnant woman or small child would struggle to escape death.
So the secret was most useful in modern times.
"I'll speak first." No. 6 slowly opened his mouth. "Everyone knows how great the risks are in what we're doing. If anyone chooses to withdraw now, they won't be considered traitors."
Player B was No. 12.
He sneered inwardly.
Before he had entered the scenarios, he might have believed those words.
But now, anyone foolish enough to believe them and withdraw would definitely die on the boat home.
The reason was simple: though you had not seen anyone else's face, you already knew how the gathering worked, as well as everyone's physical characteristics.
If you didn't die, who would? "Who would withdraw? We're ruled by artificial intelligence now, only able to drag out half-dead lives every day. There's so much food outside, yet we can only eat until we're half-full. This is treatment fit for slaves! Rather than remain slaves forever, I'd rather die!" No. 7 spoke up, two vicious gleams shooting from his eyes as he swept his gaze across the others.
Clearly, if anyone said they wanted to withdraw,