"Now, the, activity, is, about, to, begin."
The zombie waiter's words took the players present by surprise. They had barely entered the hotel, yet the so-called activity was already starting without warning.
"Please, dear, guests, do, not, be, nervous." The zombie waiter's expression never changed, and even his mouth remained still, making his voice and its rhythm sound extraordinarily strange. "This, activity, leisure, entertainment. Today, introduce, yourselves, get, along."
"You mean..." The gentleman in the flashy suit toyed with the ring on his right little finger, seemingly out of habit, and said thoughtfully, "Today's activity is introducing ourselves?"
"Yes." The zombie waiter finally had a chance to deliver a complete answer. "Hotel, cleaning, rooms. Guests, first, floor, get, acquainted, introductions. Kitchen, dinner, being, prepared. Have, fun."
"Because the hotel rooms are still being cleaned and the kitchen is preparing dinner, you want us guests to stay on the first floor and get to know each other?" The woman with the gothic look had already found a bench in the lobby and sat down. Her long, red-streaked hair was neatly clipped behind her head, and her expression was cold.
"Correct." The zombie waiter nodded expressionlessly, then said nothing more. He turned and entered the stairwell, dragging shut the folding iron gate between it and the first-floor lobby with a harsh, grating screech. He even locked it with a click, trapping the players in the hotel lobby.
Then the stiff figure in the wrinkled waiter's uniform vanished into the darkness at the foot of the stairs.
In another nightmare game, the players might have breathed a sigh of relief at the first day's scheduled activity, as though they had been granted a long stretch of safety. However, the players were not the only ones left in the hotel's first-floor lobby. Their "family