I spread the papers across the table—my notes, my calculations, every thread of information I'd gathered stitched together into a clean, merciless strategy.
Kyle stopped in the doorway.
Not shocked.
Not confused.
Something else.
He walked toward the table slowly, almost… appreciative. His eyes moved over my charts like they were rare art.
He picked one up, the corner of his mouth curling in a way I'd never seen on him before.
"You organized all this?" he asked, voice low—too calm for someone who usually panics over misplacing a spoon.
I nodded. "It didn't take long."
He laughed under his breath, shaking his head.
"That's what scares me."
He pulled a chair beside me—close, closer than usual—and pointed at one of my sections about detecting lies.
"You listed techniques, but there's another trick," he said lightly.
"If someone's lying, don't press the lie directly. Ask questions that sidestep their story. They'll contradict themselves without realizing."
I frowned. "How do you know that?"
He paused.
Just a fraction of a second.
Barely noticeable.
Then he shrugged casually. "It's common sense, isn't it?"
No… Kyle's "common sense" is forgetting which pocket he put his protein bar in, not advanced psychological manipulation.
He didn't look away though.
He kept studying my notes with this… sharpness.
Like he was evaluating me.
Admiring, but also measuring how dangerous I could be.
"You're brilliant, Alice," he said quietly. "This isn't strategy. This is… domination. You could control everyone here if you wanted."
The way he said it—steady, confident, certain—made something cold slip down my spine.
Kyle never talks like that.
I leaned back, watching him as he continued flipping pages with experienced fingers, the kind of practiced ease you get from dealing with people, not books.
"Kyle," I said slowly, "you sound like someone who's done this before."
He glanced at me with an innocent smile.
"Maybe I'm just better at reading people than you think."
His smile was familiar.
But the eyes behind it weren't.
For a moment, I couldn't tell if the warmth I felt was pride…
or a warning.
There was something in him today—something sharp, controlled, certain.
Something I couldn't name.
Something that wasn't quite the Kyle I knew.
But I let him keep talking.
Because I needed to know if I was imagining it…
or if Kyle had depths I'd never seen.
________
When I finally reached my room, the silence felt heavier than usual.
I sat on the edge of the bed, fingers tapping against my knees.
Kyle's words replayed in my mind — smooth, confident, layered.
Not Kyle-like. Not even close.
Kyle joined me because he couldn't read people.
Because he panicked when someone raised their voice.
Because manipulation confused him the way numbers confused normal people.
But today…
Today he spoke like someone who'd practiced deceiving others for years.
That kind of shift doesn't happen in two days.
Not even in two months.
Personality is one thing — skill is another.
My chest tightened with a strange, unwelcome realization:
Something is wrong.
Very wrong.
Could someone disguise themselves as another person?
I hadn't checked.
I hadn't even asked the sky voice about appearance-changing devices.
But… Kyle's face was the same.
His build.
His voice.
Only his behaviour had changed — like someone had swapped the mind, not the body.
Or…
Did I misjudge him?
Impossible.
I have never misread anyone in my entire life.
So why… why is Kyle suddenly outside every prediction?
I lay down without sleeping.
Tomorrow, I would test him.
Directly.
If this was really Kyle…
or someone else wearing his skin.
---
Morning
I walked into the main hall and found him already awake.
Kyle.
He looked up with a smile that felt too controlled.
"Alice… do I really need to go scouting? We can gather information from others now. I don't have to leave."
I froze.
Kyle never complains.
Kyle follows orders like a puppy desperate to be useful.
Kyle would have gone scouting even if wolves were out there waiting.
But this Kyle… he was negotiating.
Trying to redirect the plan.
A thread snapped inside me.
This was not right.
I steadied my voice. "Kyle, do you remember what condition I set when you first asked to follow me?"
He didn't hesitate.
Not even a blink.
"Yes," he said. "That I have to obey your every command."
My heart dropped.
He remembered.
Something only the real Kyle should know.
Something no one else had heard.
So it is Kyle.
But then…
How can someone change this drastically?
How can a person who couldn't read emotions suddenly speak like a strategist?
How can someone who always avoided eye contact now look at me with a confidence bordering on… predatory?
I watched him walk away to fetch water.
Same steps.
Same shoulders.
And yet… a stranger.
A frightening, intriguing stranger.
For the first time in this world…
I doubted my own instincts.
And that frustrated me more than anything else.
Kyle walked beside me—beside me, not three steps behind like he always did.
I tilted my head at him. "Today you're walking next to me?"
He didn't even hesitate. "Yeah. I can protect you faster from here."
Reasonable. Logical. Absolutely believable.
…And yet something in my brain whispered, liar, liar, protective pants on fire.
But honestly? At this point, I didn't care whether he was Kyle, an impostor, or a stack of holograms disguised as a man.
Loyalty—that's the only currency that matters here.
I stepped into my shop; he headed off to "scout."
The moment his back turned, I signaled one of the players I'd bought loyalty from. A small gesture—two fingers tapping the counter.
"Follow him," I murmured. "Silent. Close. And report every single thing he does."
The man nodded and vanished into the crowd, as invisible as a guilt-free purchase during a sale.
Alice stepped into her shop and closed the door gently, letting the quiet settle around her like a blanket.
This wasn't a place she controlled.
She couldn't change the prices.
But she could think.
And thinking was the deadliest weapon in this world.
She sat on the small chair in the corner—her unofficial "base."
Not because she arranged it that way, but because humans always claim a spot, even when the environment doesn't obey them.
She leaned back, crossed her legs, and opened her notebook.
Information.
That's what she could move, adjust, and weaponize.
She flipped through the pages she'd filled in the past days:
Names of players
Who owed her favors
Who talked too much
Who avoided eye contact
Who was greedy
Who was scared
Who was loyal today but could betray tomorrow
Her handwriting was tiny, neat, but merciless.
Alice began drawing invisible lines between them—patterns, probabilities, alliances forming under the surface like cracks in a glass floor.
While others waited for the next game, she built a mental map of the entire city.
She calculated:
Who would survive the next round
Who would die
Who would kill someone else
Who might try to steal
Who would crumble if pressure was applied
Who could be turned into a tool
Every thought sharpened her understanding.
Every pattern strengthened her control
She was rearranging people.
Her fingers tapped the edge of her notebook, her eyes half-focused, half-lost in probabilities.
She closed the notebook softly.
Her mind was spinning like a silent storm.
The door creaked.
The spy entered, breathing fast, eyes wide.
"Boss," he whispered.
Alice straightened her spine without looking up.
"Report."