But the consensus had not yet spread to the end of the line when it struck a massive obstacle.
Okotan.
The moment eyes began to converge on the vice-captain of the ALS guild, the atmosphere, only just beginning to soften was instantly strangled.
No blue light flared. No system chime rang out. Okotan simply stood there, arms crossed over his chest, wearing a calm so misplaced it felt alien, as though he were standing outside the vortex of pressure surging through the room.
"Wait."
His voice was neither loud nor sharp, yet it cut cleanly through the flow of compromise like a blade.
"A demand like this," Okotan spoke slowly, his calm gaze sweeping across the expectant faces, "is, by nature, an act of coercion. I remember the raid agreement clearly, and there is no clause that obliges us to lay our personal loot bare before the public."
The entire room stalled. The nods from Kirito's group suddenly hung in midair. Some began to frown; others exchanged glances filled with doubt.
"We've just come out of a life-or-death battle. Everyone here is exhausted," he continued, his tone turning colder. "And now, based solely on a vague, unverified 'hypothesis,' you intend to turn everyone who fought side by side into suspects under interrogation?"
The temperature in the room seemed to drop several degrees, cold and razor-sharp.
Ren sensed the shift faster than anyone else. He didn't need to hear it; he read it in the stiffened shoulders, in the breaths being forcibly held at the throats of those around him.
Kirito did not respond immediately. He stood there, silently observing. Asuna stared straight at Okotan, her gaze sharp as a blade just drawn from its sheath. Shivata frowned in visible irritation, while Liten...Okotan's teammate, unconsciously tightened her grip on her mace, metal letting out a dry, scraping sound.
"Are you refusing?"
Kirito finally spoke. His voice remained composed, but the softness from moments earlier was gone, replaced by a heavy, invisible pressure.
Okotan merely shrugged. "I'm only saying that I don't agree with this approach."
A suffocating silence followed. No one objected, yet no one nodded in agreement either.
Ren looked at Okotan, not with emotional suspicion, but with the gaze of a chess player assessing a piece that had just stepped out of a safe formation.
In this room, where everyone had already laid their cards on the table to prove their innocence, it took only one person keeping their hand beneath the table for all suspicion to converge on them.
And Okotan… was the only one still hiding his hand.
All eyes abruptly shifted, focusing on Liten, the ALS representative in this raid. She had been among the first to open her inventory, a decisive act meant to protect the guild's honor.
What Liten had not expected was that her own teammate would oppose the idea so fiercely.
One exchanged glance with Okotan was enough for her to understand everything. A chill ran straight down her spine.
He had it.
The Flag of Valor was in Okotan's possession, and he intended to keep it within ALS, even if doing so ran completely counter to the alliance's agreement.
"So… you're the one holding the flag?"
Kajiro's voice shattered the silence, sharp as a blade just drawn from its sheath.
Instantly, the scattered gazes in the room converged on a single point. No hesitation. No ambiguity. Only open scrutiny, vigilance, and suspicion laid bare. The air seemed to freeze into a heavy block of lead.
Okotan's lips curled slightly. A fleeting smile, not quite mocking, but utterly devoid of any intent to reconcile.
"You're jumping to conclusions," he replied, his tone even and deliberate, as if intentionally stretching every nerve of his listeners. "My refusal to be inspected… does not mean I'm in possession of that item."
"But you're the only one who refused!" another cold voice cut in, its owner unclear, but sharp enough to widen the crack of doubt.
Okotan glanced briefly toward the source of the voice, then turned back to Kajiro.
"And that's why you've chosen me as the target? Just because I refuse to bow to mob mentality?"
The room trembled with clenched fists and the grinding of teeth. Ren stood motionless.
He realized that the moment Kajiro had spoken, the board had been pushed one step beyond recovery. The question was no longer who holds the flag, but rather: who dares to stand outside the consensus.
Kirito stepped forward half a pace just enough to pull the room's focus back to him.
"No one is accusing you," Kirito said, his voice low but heavy. "But in this situation, silence or refusal… both lead to the same conclusion."
A crushing silence descended. Okotan did not answer immediately. He slowly scanned each face in the room, every gaze burning with intensity, before stopping on Ren for exactly one breath.
Then, Okotan slowly lowered his arms.
"Fine," he said, eyes narrowing, unreadable. "But before I open my inventory… I want to ask one question."
"If the flag isn't in my possession, then what will you do next? Or will you simply continue this witch hunt with another victim?"
In that moment, the silence of time itself was more terrifying than any words.
The number in the corner of the system interface quietly ticked over to 00:01.
Small. Cold. And carrying the weight of a sentence already carried out.
A few people in the room snapped out of it, their eyes instinctively dropping before freezing in place. It felt as though they had just watched a treasure vanish before their eyes, utterly beyond retrieval.
Kirito was the first to realize it.
His hand tightened ever so slightly, a sharp, hollow chill running straight down his spine.
The final chance to use the system's transparency to bring this dispute to an end had slipped cleanly through his fingers.
The notification history, the only ironclad proof of what each person had obtained from the boss, was now nothing more than a dull gray field of meaningless empty slots.
"It's past the retention limit."
Kirito's voice dropped. It wasn't harsh, but it carried the weight of a slab of lead sinking into an otherwise calm lake.
A new wave of murmurs rose. This time there was no shouting, only suppressed, irritated whispers. A dry curse cracked out from one corner of the room. Somewhere else, a long, helpless sigh escaped.
And amid that undercurrent of unrest, Ren caught a small detail: someone had just relaxed their shoulders. A very slight drop, as though an invisible noose tightening around their neck had finally loosened.
"He… he's the one holding the flag."
This time, Kajiro could no longer maintain his calm façade. His voice sank low, each word grinding out like iron chains scraping against each other, his cold eyes locking onto Okotan as if trying to strip away that mask of indifference.
"He deliberately stalled for time."
Kajiro stepped forward half a pace, the pressure radiating from him so intense that the air around him seemed to thicken.
"All he had to do was drag this past midnight, and the system logs would be wiped automatically. Once that happens, the only solid evidence is gone, and we're forced to fall back on the final option inventory inspection…"
Kajiro paused for a beat, his jaw clenched so hard veins stood out along his temple.
"…but if the one holding the item refuses to consent, then under this game's rules, not a single person here has the right to force him to open his inventory."
The room fell into a deathly silence.
Kajiro's words were no longer an emotional or vague accusation. They were cold, complete logic, terrifying precisely because there was no way to refute it. The truth stood exposed before everyone like a trap that had already snapped shut.
One by one, players began to turn toward Okotan, their gazes utterly changed, no longer clouded suspicion, but open vigilance, heavy with hostility.
Feeling those stares pinning him down like loaded gun barrels, Okotan finally understood that there was no path left for retreat.
Silence was no longer a shield, it was kindling, something that could ignite and burn him alive at any moment. His personal safety was no longer worth gambling even a second longer.
"…Fine," he spoke at last, his voice hoarse, breaking apart in the still air. "I'll let you inspect my inventory."
The moment the words left his mouth, the atmosphere shifted instantly. All murmurs died out. The wary glances vanished, replaced by a focus so intense it was almost frightening.
The room became so quiet that the sound of anyone breathing felt out of place, painfully loud.
Okotan slowly activated his personal system. Each swipe of his hand was sluggish, as though he were trying to stretch the life of the secret for a few final heartbeats.
Or perhaps..even for a seasoned player like him...the trembling at his fingertips could no longer be hidden.
The pale blue light of the interface reflected onto Okotan's face, exposing tension stretched to its absolute limit, the earlier mask of composure now completely shattered.
Those around him almost stopped breathing, chests tightening.
As the item list began to materialize, two opposing currents of emotion erupted violently.
Some silently prayed that the Flag of Valor had never dropped at all, that this tragedy of betrayal could end here, that no one would have to bear the mark of a traitor.
And yet others, deep down, desperately wanted to see it. They needed something tangible, proof to release the doubt and pressure that had been piling up ever since the boss fell.
The truth, no matter how cruel, had reached the moment where it could no longer remain hidden.
Okotan's next action came so fast it shattered every rule of waiting. While everyone was still staring at the newly revealed item list, an unfamiliar flash of light suddenly burst from his palm.
It wasn't equipment. It wasn't the flag.
Clutched tightly in Okotan's hand was an emerald-green Teleport Crystal, an expensive item, and the only escape ticket available in the most desperate of situations.