"Breakfast at 4 a.m., dinner at 4 p.m.—there aren't many chances to share a fine meal with me." He glanced at the clock on the cupboard and said, "Ah, perfect timing. You all have been waiting here so long, you must be starving. I can even hear your stomachs growling—can't wait, can you?"

Guest: "..."

"How many of you are there again?" He held out his fingers, counting heads one by one. "Old hag, sickly one, little punk, drunkard, drunkard's son..."

Not a single nickname was pleasant. Everyone he counted turned green in the face.

When he got to Brian Baker, he paused, displeased: "Why is there one who can't wake up?"

"Forget it." Hunter A, his mood spoiled, turned to glance at the question wall and said, "I heard there are 13 people in total, but my food is a bit short, only enough for 12. What a pity."

As he spoke, he licked his lips. "I'm really hungry. But you'll have to wait a bit longer—I need to get ready. It's my first time seeing so many guests."

William Baker: "..."

It's my first time seeing such a flamboyant hunter, too.

Hunter A bent down and grabbed a burlap sack.

The sack looked especially heavy—no one knew what was inside, and no one really wanted to know...

He dragged the sack to a corner of the house, stopping in front of the room where the hen was hanging.

The keys jingled as Hunter A carefully picked one out and unlocked the door.

A wave of rotten stench wafted out.

It was hard to describe just how foul the smell was—like spoiled meat, dust, and rotting wood all piled together.

...

Everyone had always thought the room with the hanging hen was a bedroom.

Only now did they realize it was actually a kitchen.

Inside was a long counter—long enough for a person to lie on.

On the other side was a long red wooden cabinet, with several locks hanging from it.

Hunter A smiled at everyone, bowed, and said, "Just a moment, it'll be ready soon."

Then he closed the door.

...

By the fire, there was a long silence before someone said in panic, "I don't want to eat, I want to go home."

"Who the hell doesn't want to go home!" The tattooed man had somehow moved into the crowd, maybe afraid of Hunter A too. "Can you even get out? If you're so tough, go open the door and run out now!"

Everyone fell silent again.

After a while, Old Baker swallowed hard. "That hunter's mouth is huge—he could swallow a head whole. I keep thinking he's going to eat people..."

John Baker muttered, "What's in that sack?"

Hearing those two sentences together was truly terrifying.

Everyone's gaze turned to the window.

Outside, the snow was still falling thick and fast. Before the test, Old Baker had gone out to scout and said it was snow in every direction, all the trees looked the same. For miles around, there were no houses, no people—so quiet it was scary...

Where would prey even come from?

Besides, Hunter A said the food was something he dug up.

When they first arrived that afternoon, a man had ignored instructions and dismantled the radio. Not long after, his corpse was buried in the snow...

Everyone remembered this at the same time, and deep fear showed on their faces.

William Baker was about to throw up.

"If you're going to puke, turn away," Brian Baker's voice suddenly cut in, "Don't get it all over me."

"Bro, you're awake?!" William Baker called out in surprise.

"What's with the shouting! Can't you keep it down?" the tattooed man barked gruffly.

Brian Baker glanced at the tattooed man and said, "I wasn't asleep."

William Baker: "Oh—then why do you always have your eyes closed?"

"My eyes are uncomfortable."

William Baker remembered that his dad, Old Baker, had mentioned Brian Baker had eye surgery, and that looking at bright things for too long made his eyes tired and sore. But usually, Brian Baker never brought it up himself, so he always forgot about it.

"Bro, did you hear everything the hunter said?" William Baker asked.

Brian Baker grunted in response.

William Baker: "What should we do?"

Brian Baker said lazily, "I'm a bit hungry. Let's wait for dinner."

William Baker: "..."

Who are you trying to scare?

Chapter 7: Three Violations┃He Killed the Question.

One sentence from Boss You had a stunning effect.

The room instantly fell silent again, everyone feeling a chill.

The kitchen wasn't well soundproofed; faint rustling noises came from inside.

After a moment, they heard another heavy thud from within. It sounded like... something large, cold, and hard being placed on the counter.

Soon after, the sound of bones being chopped echoed out.

One chop after another.

...

The clock on the cupboard ticked steadily, each second dragging on.

After what felt like a hundred years, the kitchen door finally opened.

The smell that drifted out was even stranger.

It was as if, on top of the previous stench, there was now a faint scent of frozen blood, cold and metallic.

Hunter A wiped his hands with a black, grimy cloth.

He poked his head out to reassure everyone: "Almost ready. You know, frozen meat has a wonderful texture—there's a bit of ice in it, and it crunches when you chew..."