
Survival of the Poorest 2.0: Ghost Cruise
Chapter 2
The two players tried to bolt, but several burly security guards rushed over.
The attendant slammed the restaurant doors shut, blocking the view of the guests inside.
The guards clamped down on the two players with iron grips, and their screams rang out in agony. Two sharp cracks were heard as their arms were twisted at sickeningly unnatural angles. Then, the guards dragged them away from the restaurant entrance.
Moments later, the system announced, "Player 17 and Player 42 have been exposed as stowaways! They were eliminated with a one-million-dollar debt!"
The doors slowly opened again, and the attendant put her professional smile back on.
By then, I had already handed my card to the attendant, but she had not had a chance to scan it yet.
The attendant held my card, moving it toward the machine.
My heart hammered frantically in my chest, and I thought, 'What do I do? What do I do?'
The guards were right there, and scanning the card would expose me instantly. Moreover, the massive crowd behind me had blocked any escape route.
In a flash of panic, I suddenly grabbed the attendant's hand like I was steadying myself, while my other hand flew to my mouth as I gagged loudly.
"I'm so, so sorry..." I mumbled weakly through my hand, looking embarrassed. "I'm going to be sick!"
"Miss, are you alright?" The attendant jerked her hand back like she had been shocked.
The guards stared at me warily. If I had something contagious, they would drag me out, and the system would eliminate me.
Just then, a hand steadied me firmly and smoothly pulled the player card from the attendant's hand.
A voice beside me said, "Sorry, my wife's morning sickness is pretty bad. Where's the restroom?"
The guards' expressions visibly relaxed.
I covered my mouth again and gagged.
The attendant quickly pointed into the distance, saying, "Over there. The restroom is that way."
A buzz-cut man in his early 20s supported my pale body and hurried me away from the restaurant. Once we had gotten far enough away, we both dropped the performance.
I pulled my arm from his grip and said, "Thanks for that."
He flashed a cocky grin. "Hey, show-off, want to team up? One person playing 'rat' stands out too much. I'm Player 8, Henry Newman."
I hesitated for a moment. Yes, we were stowaways, rats that could not exist in the open on this cruise ship. Surviving with just 50 dollars while pretending to be normal guests meant that two people covering for each other was better than going solo, and he had just proven his skills.
"I'm Player 66, Julia Webb." I made up a name on the spot, agreeing to team up.
Keeping your real name hidden was key in this kind of game, especially when I had a 500-million-dollar bounty on my head. It seemed like sneaking into the buffet was not going to work, and getting free water this round was harder than the last one.
"Come on, let's go get some water." I led Henry as we slipped down to the fourth floor.
The casino was packed with people coming and going, and the staff were busy entertaining guests, so it looked like they only checked chips, not cards.
The air inside was thick with the smell of ozone, mixed with the electronic chirps of slot machines, the spinning clatter of roulette wheels, and the frantic shouts of gamblers.
It was a wall of chaotic noise.
I found an internal phone meant for guest use and picked up the receiver.
A sweet voice from the operator came through. "Hello, how may I help you?"
I spoke in a slightly anxious tone, "I'm a guest in Room 407. Send up four bottles of water. Charge it to the room, just leave them by the door! And hurry!"