Chapter 1: The Loser's Prize

“The good guys have the advantage now. Later, number 6 in the last seat should cast their vote carefully. Even if a villager gets pushed out, it doesn’t matter—we still have rounds left. My card is a simple villager,” Zhou Ji straightened himself, waiting for the sheriff to assign the vote.

All eyes in the room shifted to seat number 6. Chen Fan, draped in a rain cape, wore a gleaming golden sheriff’s badge on his chest, a token handed down by number 11, the Hunter, before leaving the game.

Chen Fan cleared his throat and gathered his thoughts. “Right now, my identity is the most credible in this game. Both the real and fake seers have agreed I’m a good guy, and the Hunter entrusted me with the badge. I understand that none of you have any clues right now. In games like this, where we have to push through without clear information, logic matters most. On this point, I differ from you, Zhou Ji in seat 5.”

Sweeping his gaze around, Chen Fan found no one betraying any emotion. He lifted his cloak with one hand and placed two empty conical bottles on the table.

“Though number 7 was my confirmed good card and died at night, I still suspect he might have been a self-harming werewolf. Zhou Ji, from my perspective, you’re the last wolf left. Your statements show me you’ve been probing for special roles, and you didn’t take sides on the first day when the two seers faced off. So this round, my vote goes to you, number 5.”

“That's all. The sheriff’s vote goes to number 5.” Chen Fan confidently extended five fingers, as if beckoning to Lady Luck herself.

…

“Game over. Werewolf side wins.”

Confused, Chen Fan took off his VR headset. He couldn’t understand how he’d lost—the game seemed to be under control, and the situation had appeared so favorable.

He pushed open the door, only to be met by Zhou Ji’s resentful glare as he held up both middle fingers in contempt. “Your logic is astonishing. We couldn’t bear watching from the sidelines anymore. Just how twisted is number 7 to hack himself down two nights in a row, knowing the Witch had already used her potion, and still raise the blade over his own head? Is this the logic you came up with?”

Chen Fan forced a sheepish smile. “Brother Ji, it’s just a game. We lost a round, nothing more. Games are meant to be fun, after all.”

Zhou Ji exploded, “It’s one thing in casual games, but I earned the coins for this VR experience room in tournaments—not like you, winning a lucky draw. I bet half my savings on this, and now it’s all gone. I hope I never end up on your team again.”

Chen Fan truly hadn’t known that. He only knew that the players in the VR experience room were top-tier; after all, only the top 10% of players got the chance to participate. Chen Fan had won his free pass at the club’s anniversary lottery.

“Hahaha, so our sheriff is actually the bottom-ranked Chen Fan. I’ve heard of you.” Chen Fan ran into Li Guangchen, who’d played number 9 earlier. He was clearly in high spirits—thanks to Chen Fan, the fifth wolf, his team had managed a comeback.

“Rookie to the Werewolf game, right? That’s what they call you? You joined the club just two months ago, and you’ve already racked up a hundred straight losses with zero wins. Maybe this isn’t the game for you.” Li Guangchen laughed, clapped Chen Fan on the shoulder, and walked away.

“Am I really that bad?” Chen Fan was unconvinced, so he went to the front desk to check his ranking.

Scanning the list with confidence, he failed to find his name. Glancing at the very bottom—sure enough…

Chen Fan. Games played: 100. Wins: 0. Win rate: 0%.

There were plenty of other zero-percenters, but even the second-to-last had only lost ten games in a row. Chen Fan had been adrift in a sea of defeat far longer.

“Well, school’s starting soon anyway. Maybe I should just forget this game—it really might not be for me.”

Chen Fan had only just finished his college entrance exams this June, and his obsession with Werewolf was a recent thing. He’d thought his intellect would let him dominate, but this star student had instead become the club’s reigning fool.

“I don’t think my logic is the problem—it’s that they don’t consider all the angles, and never end up on the same wavelength as me. They’re all just ordinary people. No need to stoop to their level.”

Muttering to himself, Chen Fan prepared to ride a shared bike home, only to find his bike gone from the entrance.

“Who took my bike? It’s so late—will I even catch a bus?” He checked the time. If he jogged, he might just make the last one.

“Excuse me, are you Chen Fan?”

The voice came from behind—a woman’s, by the sound of it.

Turning, Chen Fan saw a young woman in formal attire, looking like staff from the club, holding a mysterious gift box.

“That’s me. And you are…?”

She pursed her lips and carefully handed over the box. “I’m Fan Ruochun, a staff member here. This is a prize prepared especially for you by our boss.”

“For me? But I haven’t entered any draws lately…”

Though he was suspicious, Chen Fan took the gift. The box looked ordinary enough—light in his hands, so not metal. He gave it an experimental shake and heard something shifting inside.

“Can you tell me what’s in it?” Chen Fan asked, puzzled.

Fan Ruochun shook her head. “I’m not sure. It was already like this when it was given to me.”

“Well, thank you anyway.” Chen Fan accepted the gift and disappeared into the night.

…

“Lucky me—I found a bike at the corner, or I’d have had to walk all the way back,” Chen Fan whispered as he opened his door, the gloom of defeat already forgotten. The house was dark—everyone must be asleep. He tiptoed to his room.

Turning on the light, he inspected his prize. He guessed it might be some Werewolf game figurines or trinkets and set about unwrapping it.

“These are… Werewolf cards?” He examined the stack before him. Not only did it include the standard roles, but also rarities like the Little Girl and Piper.

“Even the New Moon Expansion is here. This must be a collector’s edition—retail price would be at least several hundred.” Chen Fan couldn’t help but marvel. After two months playing, he finally had his own set—though few friends played, so he’d still need to go to the club for a proper game.

Not only were the cards complete, but the craftsmanship was exquisite. The werewolf cards themselves seemed to leap from the surface.

“Just a couple of days until university starts,” Chen Fan murmured. “Once I’m there, I’ll let this game go. But until then, let me win at least once. That’s all I ask—just once. I can’t finish at the bottom.”

“Come on, Chen Fan. You got through the college entrance exam—you can’t lose to the night.” He packed the cards away in his drawer.

At midnight, the clock on the wall ticked on. A new day crept in quietly as always, a faint, eerie gleam piercing through the desk and into Chen Fan’s body.