As Lin Yu analyzed the situation, the discussion among the others continued.

Upon hearing Xu Xiumei’s introduction, Bao Liu immediately demanded: "What info did you get? Spit it out—is it something extra about the game?"

Xu Xiumei hesitated.

But Yu Longguo—the Soldier—cut in first. "Hold on. She doesn’t have to share. Right now, none of us know who the wolves are. Revealing critical intel recklessly could backfire on the humans."

Bao Liu scoffed. "What if she’s the wolf?"

At this, the timid woman—who’d been quiet until now—finally spoke up again, her voice soft but laced with steel:

"You’re awfully eager to force her to talk... Makes me wonder if you’re the real wolf here."

Lin Yu’s eyebrows rose slightly.

Well, well.

Beneath that fragile exterior was a spine of cold iron.

From the start, Bao Liu had targeted her—likely to establish dominance. Yet here she was, striking back during the role reveals.

Bao Liu’s face twisted in rage. He slammed the table and jabbed a finger at her. "The fuck you accusing me for, bitch?!"

Yu Longguo stood, his towering frame and Soldier aura radiating authority. "Enough. Arguing now is pointless. Let everyone finish introducing themselves first."

Cowed, Bao Liu leaned back in his chair with a grunt and jerked his chin at the chubby boy. "Your turn."

The boy—Chen Zhuo—adjusted his glasses nervously.

"I’m Chen Zhuo. My role is... Otaku." He paused. "My ability is... classified."

"Classified?!" Several voices erupted at once.

Bao Liu’s glare could’ve melted steel. "We all shared ours, you little shit. Think you’re special?!"

Chen Zhuo flinched but doubled down, lowering his voice mysteriously.

"Y-yes. My ability is... unique. Impossible to explain in words. You’ll understand when you see it."

Though Chen Zhuo chose to conceal his ability, his role—Otaku—still gave the others pause.

What kind of power would an otaku even have?

Otakus were stereotypically homebodies, buried in anime and novels. What possible advantage could that bring to a death game?

Chen Zhuo’s vague explanation left everyone baffled.

But frankly, no one cared enough to press him.

Deep down, they’d all already pegged him as harmless—even if he were on the opposing side, this chubby kid hardly seemed like a threat.

Sure, he’d been helpful earlier, but…

That was exactly the problem. His eagerness to spill every thought made him seem guileless.

If he were a wolf, he’d have slipped up by now.

Even Lin Yu found it hard to believe the boy was acting.

If this is an act, he deserves an Oscar.

Next up: the wiry, rat-faced man.

After a beat of hesitation, he spoke.

"Yao Zhengye. Role: Thief." His lips curled. "Ability? Nah, not sharing."

Groans circled the table.

Bao Liu clicked his tongue. "The fuck? Another mystery man?" He shot Chen Zhuo a glare. "This is your damn fault."

Chen Zhuo shrank further into his chair.

Yu Longguo stayed silent, but his eyes narrowed thoughtfully.

Yao Zhengye might’ve withheld his ability, but "Thief" was self-explanatory.

Stealing. Of course.

"In that case, no point pushing. We can guess what a Thief does anyway."

The group's attention shifted to the gentle-looking woman.

"I'm Xia Yue," she said softly. "My role is Veterinarian. My ability... is healing small animals."

Bao Liu snorted. "The hell's that gonna do? This castle got pets or somethin'?"

Still sore from her earlier counterattack, he eyed her with open disdain.

"Who knows? Maybe the owner liked keeping pets here," Chen Zhuo piped up.

"Even if there were animals," Bao Liu sneered, "what's fixing 'em gonna accomplish? You think a damn cat's gonna sniff out the wolves for you?"

Xia Yue turned her head slightly, refusing to engage further.

With her introduction done, only Lin Yu remained.

All eyes locked onto him.

"Your turn, kid," Yu Longguo said. "What's your role?"

Lin Yu steepled his fingers on the table.

Showtime.

He'd listened carefully to every reveal.

His actual role? Trickster.

A class that would be useless if exposed.

So—

Time to lie.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, then met their gazes with calculated intensity.

"Before I share my role... I think we've all noticed something." A deliberate pause. "Our in-game roles aren't random. They're tied to who we are in real life."

"Brother Yu here radiates military energy. Chen Zhuo? Textbook otaku. And Xia Yue..." Lin Yu gestured at her stained lab coat. "You’re literally still wearing scrubs."

He turned to Xu Xiumei. "You’re a teacher in real life too, aren’t you?"

Xu Xiumei nodded slowly. "Yes... a middle school teacher."

"Exactly." Lin Yu snapped his fingers. "My theory holds."

Was deception just lying?

To Lin Yu, it was more.

Everything he’d just said was true—meticulously deduced. But the real question gnawing at him:

If roles mirrored reality, why was he, a college student, assigned Trickster?

He’d never scammed anyone. He wasn’t even a good liar.

Then he remembered his acting professor’s words:

"Performance is ultimate deception. You must fool yourself, then the audience—until they believe you are the role."

Lin Yu couldn’t lie well.

But acting?

That was advanced fraud.

And now—curtains up.