Hunter's Game 2: Terror Valley - Chapter 8

“My name is Roger Lewis. This is Katre Valley, also known as Terror Valley. I’m currently in the Misty Forest.”

“I’m participating in a Black Goat game called The Witch’s Liquor. Difficulty: five stars.”

“I’ve been separated from my companions. This is bad!”

Lewis’s eyes were red-rimmed, his face exhausted and dejected.

Suddenly, he leaned close to the camera.

His voice carried a heavy warning. “Listen. If you’ve entered the Terror Valley escape game, remember what I’m telling you. Do not enter The Witch’s Liquor. It’s too dangerous! There were six of us, but now I’m the only one left. This forest is wrong. People who come in here vanish for no reason…”

Before he could finish, the camera jolted.

Behind him stood an enormous dragon blood tree, a tropical species shaped like a vast umbrella, its branches thrusting into the sky like a spacecraft from a cyberpunk world.

A simple tent had been pitched beneath it, presumably Roger Lewis’s temporary camp.

Lewis licked his lips. The whites of his eyes were webbed with red.

I stared into them, unable to look away.

He faced the camera again. Perhaps it was the lighting or the angle, but his face seemed to have changed. Something about it was indescribably strange.

“If… if I die…”

Lewis abruptly stopped.

A low animal growl came from somewhere in the video.

His expression changed. Terror filled his eyes.

“It’s here…”

He licked his cracked lips and fought to steady his trembling voice.

“I’m going to upload this video to social media. Remember—my name is Roger Lewis.”

The camera shook violently again, and Lewis stopped recording.

No one knew what happened afterward. Since we could see the video, he had clearly succeeded in uploading it.

But he himself had probably met a grim end.

The feed returned to the host.

“Players, Roger Lewis died. This game is terrifying. We can’t imagine what they encountered, but many viewers believe the Misty Forest contains a savage beast. Several growls can be heard in the video.”

“As a host, I feel duty-bound to warn you not to enter this game recklessly. Five dead and one injured—a casualty rate that high is tantamount to suicide…”

The host rambled for a while longer before the video ended.

I checked the upload date. Ten days ago.

That meant the previous round of The Witch’s Liquor had taken place more than ten days earlier.

Half reclining against the bed, I sank into thought.

I had never expected The Witch’s Liquor to be so difficult. Such a high casualty rate for a five-star game was absurd. If this was five stars, six and seven had to be virtually impossible.

Still thinking wildly, I unlocked my phone again and opened Black Goat’s player database, which listed every player’s registration details and current record.

I entered Roger Lewis in the search field. His profile appeared almost immediately: seven stars.

An idea struck me. I searched the site again and soon found the roster from the previous round of The Witch’s Liquor.

“Rocky. Roger Lewis. Clarence. Jack Tang. Kim In-hee.”

My gaze moved lower.

When I saw the final name, it stopped.

“Eugene.”