***
Two weeks later.
Nile City.
Ethan watched Eve and Juno’s progress, and it was far beyond what he could’ve imagined.
Both of them were already above level 20, which meant they were much stronger than most players in the city.
Eve had learned how to set priorities in her attribute stats, while Juno learned a lot from her.
The two worked together, pushing each other to grow stronger.
There wasn’t much left for Ethan to teach them. Eve was a fast learner—smart enough to understand things just by seeing them once.
The Soul Servant feature and the rest hadn’t unlocked for them yet, but Ethan was confident that Eve would master it when the time came.
That night, the three of them returned from hunting monsters in the forest.
Ethan hunted solo as usual, while Eve and Juno worked together to defeat forest monsters.
The EXP he earned wasn’t much. The gap between levels in the 40s was massive—just gaining one level required around 2,500 EXP.
The higher the level, the more ridiculous it got.
If he reached level 50 or 60, the requirement would multiply.
That was why Ethan hadn’t gained any noticeable progress during this hunt.
When they arrived back in Nile City, Ethan narrowed his eyes.
A crowd had gathered in front of the mission board, murmuring and arguing as if they were checking on something important.
"What’s going on? Could it really be him?"
"Stephen’s Red Notice disappeared. He stopped killing—but Ethan hasn’t."
Their attention shifted toward Ethan the moment he appeared with Eve and Juno.
Dozens of eyes turned to glare at him, sharp and filled with hostility. Ethan frowned, unsure what was happening.
"Get him!" someone shouted.
The crowd erupted in chaos. Ethan’s instincts kicked in—he summoned his Flamefang sword instantly.
"Eve! Juno! Get out of here!" he ordered.
"What about you?" Eve asked, panic in her voice.
"Don’t worry about me. I can handle this," he said firmly.
Eve met Ethan’s serious gaze. Seeing the determination in his eyes, she finally nodded and obeyed.
What Ethan saw in those players’ faces was clear—hatred, anger, and disappointment.
They hated him for killing again, they were angry for losing friends, and they were disappointed because they once trusted his words.
"What the hell is wrong with you all?!" Ethan shouted.
"Don’t pretend you don’t know, bastard!" another player yelled before launching a crimson slash toward him.
Ethan swung his sword to block it. Even without activating Skill 1, his swing shattered the attack’s energy wave and sent a shock through the air, forcing several players to stumble back.
Their strength really did grow. Two weeks passed—of course they got stronger.
But why are they attacking me? They were fine yesterday.
If Ethan wanted to know why they were angry, he had to avoid fighting back.
He stabbed his sword into the ground and stood still a short distance away.
"If anyone takes a single step closer, I’ll kill you!" he warned.
The threat froze everyone. Even if they outnumbered him, they all knew Ethan could slaughter them if they pushed him too far.
"Now tell me—what’s going on? Why are you all hunting me?" Ethan demanded.
"Bodies! There are bodies everywhere in the city. That’s never happened before—but since you came, players keep turning up dead in the streets!"
"And that makes you think it’s me?" Ethan asked, squinting.
"You’re the only one still marked as PK!"
"What about Stephen?" Ethan shot back.
"His Red Notice disappeared today. If he was the killer, it would’ve been extended."
Ethan realized that was true. Either Stephen was dead or his PK status had expired. But that meant these recent murders weren’t Stephen’s doing.
But it’s not me either.
Yesterday, he had been with Eve and Juno the whole time. He couldn’t have killed anyone elsewhere—unless he somehow had a clone.
Could there be another killer out there?
This is insane. They’re all blaming me just because it’s convenient.
Ethan stared forward as players shouted accusations at him, hurling curses he didn’t even bother to respond to.
He didn’t need to argue—he just needed the truth.
Someone’s framing me.
I could kill them all right now, but that wouldn’t solve anything. It would only prove them right—and fuel their hatred.
Whoever that person is... I’ll find them.
"What if my Red Notice disappears," Ethan said calmly, "and the murders still continue?"
"What do you mean?" one of the players asked.
"I mean... I’m being framed by a hidden player."
"Framed?" the man echoed, confused.
No point trying to convince them.I’ll investigate this myself.
Ethan swung his sword sideways, releasing a crimson slash at the ground. A burst of dust exploded outward, filling the air with a blinding haze.
BLAST!
The players flinched and covered their eyes. Ethan vanished in the chaos, slipping into a narrow alleyway. No one saw where he went.
Leaving the city wasn’t an option—guards would be on alert, and he’d lose his chance to track the real killer.
When the dust settled, everyone looked around in shock. Ethan was gone.
"He ran out! Back into the forest to hide!" Eve shouted from the inn’s window.
"Are you sure?" someone asked.
"I saw it with my own eyes. My brother saw it too. You have to believe us—go, catch him!" Eve urged.
Convinced by her words, most of the players rushed out of the city toward the forest. Only a handful stayed behind to keep watch.
From a rooftop, Ethan quietly watched them scatter. He exhaled slowly. The distraction had worked perfectly.
"Now it’s time to work in the shadows... and find the real killer."
He used the rooftops to move silently across the city, occasionally leaping higher to get a better view.
If there’s a new murderer out there, they’ll slip up eventually. But where would they strike next?
The farther he got from the city center, the quieter it became.
This was the kind of place where a killer would strike—isolated and silent. But this wasn’t about brute strength; it was about thinking smart.
He needed to know the victims—who they were, what classes they played, their gender, and levels. Only then could he identify a pattern.
While crouched on a rooftop, he overheard two players walking below, grumbling as they carried something heavy.
"They said to bury the bodies in the southern village. I can’t believe I’m doing grave work in a damn game."
"The whole system’s a mess. Players are losing their minds, killing each other—it’s sick."
Ethan followed them quietly until they split up, each heading toward different inns.
The gravedigger.
That was his lead.
Ethan dropped down silently behind one of them, tackling the man to the ground and covering his mouth before he could scream.
He drew his sword and pressed the blade lightly against the man’s throat.
The player’s eyes widened in terror when he recognized who was pinning him down.
"E-Ethan?" he stammered.
"The gravedigger," Ethan muttered. "I need information from you."
"W-What?" the man gasped.
"Keep quiet and follow me. Scream—and you die."