Transmigrated as the Side Top used as an Emotional Trash Can - Chapter 54.1

Number 17.

The number of the Townsperson I had said I wanted to save. For a moment, I was so flustered that I wondered whether Purple had typed it by mistake. Otherwise, there was no way he would say Number 17…

Purple laughed. Of course he would say it. He was an uncontrollable lunatic.

The discussion period has ended.

Bang!

“Ah…”

The corpse with a gunshot wound to the head collapsed limply onto the floor. It was Number 17’s corpse. Apparently, he had been a Police.

“I seriously can’t do this anymore. You Mafia bastards, are you listening? I can’t do this anymore…”

“There’s still one Police officer left! Please reveal yourself… If you keep hiding like that, everyone’s going to fucking die!”

The kids cried out desperately to survive, but the Police didn’t reveal himself. At this point, he should have known who everyone was, but judging by how he still didn’t come forward, it seemed he intended to hide until the game ended.

“Who are you, and why are you so quiet?”

Just then, one of the guys felt around for me and began speaking in a suspicious tone. He had singled me out because I had only been observing the situation without even screaming. With so few people left, those who remained completely silent like me must have begun to stand out.

It wasn’t a particularly positive development.

“…Sorry, this is just too much for me right now. I’m scared too…”

I drooped my eyebrows and covered my mouth with my hand as though I were dizzy. There was no way they could see me, but I reflexively acted the part anyway.

“Why are you going after a kid who’s just sitting there? Why start a witch hunt all of a sudden? That’s fucking suspicious.”

“Right? Isn’t that bastard Mafia?”

“No, fucker, this isn’t a witch hunt! We have to find the Mafia!”

Instead, the kid who had suspected me began getting accused of starting a witch hunt. Flustered by everyone turning on him, he began shouting. I hadn’t played many mafia games before, but the saying that staying quiet would at least get you halfway there seemed to apply to this game to some extent.

“Judging by how he’s shouting, he must be Mafia.”

“Hey! N-No! I’m really…!”

Please vote for the number of the person to be executed.

“What number are you?”

“Like I’d tell you!”

“…He’s Number 22.”

At that moment, hidden amid the commotion, one kid quietly stated his number.

“22? Vote for Number 22!”

“What? Is that true? I’m voting for Number 22 too.”

“You’re so fucking loud! Number 22!”

Without giving it much thought, the kids were swept along by the crowd and shouted Number 22.

Bang!

The kid who had been subjected to the witch hunt was correctly identified and killed. He really had been Number 22. Who was the kid who had known exactly who Number 22 was? Why had he remained silent until now, only to speak up at this point?

Red seemed dumbfounded and bombarded Purple with questions, but Purple only kept typing ‘lol.’

Purple repeatedly called for me, flooding the chat like a madman. Then he abruptly stopped and created a sudden silence.

Made anxious by the silence, Red spoke first. But Purple still said nothing.

And so, the Mafia’s discussion period ended in vain. It ended without us gaining anything or killing anyone. If we had gained anything, perhaps it was Red’s anxiety and Purple’s outburst.

The game began again.

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Ghost

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