Chapter 4
The younger woman burst into tears.
“We made the same wish as Martin. Does that mean we’re all going to die?”
No one answered.
The red-haired woman lit a cigarette and took a long drag.
“Not necessarily. Remember the side quests? Each one gives us another wish. Whoever finds the right answer survives. We still have a chance.”
People turned toward her, listening.
“I’m Vanessa,” she said. “Before this, I was an executive at a multinational company. I know how to make decisions under pressure. Trust me, and I can lead us through this.”
No one else had a plan. Within minutes, they were treating her as our leader.
She was still giving her pep talk when the system interrupted.
[Side quest issued: “The Boss’s Banquet.”]
[All players are invited to the feast.]
[Quest time: Tonight at 8:00 p.m.]
[Participants: All surviving players.]
[Hint: Each player must choose one dish from the banquet to present to the Boss.]
[Hint: No dish may be chosen twice.]
[Hint: Offer the Boss his favorite dish to earn his favor and another wish.]
[Hint: Offer his least favorite dish, and you die.]
Vanessa smiled. “Looks like we have our chance.”
We had more than half a day until the banquet. At her direction, we split up to search the mansion for clues about the Boss’s tastes.
An hour before dinner, we gathered in the living room to compare notes.
“I found the menu in the kitchen,” Vanessa said. “Six dishes. One for each of us.”
She unfolded a sheet of paper.
“Baked escargot, Caesar salad, grilled lamb chops, seared cod, creamy vegetable stew, and fruit cake. Does anything sound familiar?”
A tall, thin guy raised his hand.
“I found a notebook in the maid’s room. It said the young master only ate vegetables and barely touched meat. Whoever wrote it was worried about his diet. I’m guessing the young master was the Boss.”
The younger woman sat forward. “The fridge is full of milk and dairy products. Vegetables and dairy—wouldn’t that make the creamy stew his favorite?”
People nodded. A few even smiled.
Vanessa tapped her polished nails on the table.
“Good work. Now we need to decide who gets to offer it.”
No dish could be chosen twice. Only one of us would get the extra wish.
She cleared her throat.
“I think I’ve already worked out the correct wish. If I’m right, I may be able to get all of us out alive. So, if you trust me, let me offer the stew.”
The others exchanged looks. After a long hesitation, they agreed.
Then the young woman who’d suggested the stew spoke again.
