Liza felt an invisible pressure bearing down on her. It wasn't loud, nor was it aggressive... but it was steady, relentless.
She was now completely certain: he wasn't bluffing. He truly had enough information to confirm her identity as an undercover agent.
This was supposed to be a situation where she held the advantage. She had the hidden role. She had the system's exclusive mission. She had access to "Mom."
And yet… somehow, she was the one cornered.
As he had said, no former traitor would ever openly disclose their experience. That was an unspoken rule. Selling such information would only make them enemies of countless Reincarnators in future dungeons.
So unless someone had personally drawn the undercover role before, it should have been impossible to know it existed in this dungeon.
But Eren was different.
It was as if he had pieced everything together on the spot, and then calmly laid a trap for her while she was still trying to figure out what was happening.
"Speaking of which," Arthur said lightly, "there are a few things I'd like to confirm with you."
Liza had already given up pretending. She pressed her lips together.
"…Go ahead."
Arthur studied her reluctant expression with open curiosity.
"First, your contact person is 'Mom,' correct?"
"Yes."
He nodded, then asked the real question.
"Then I'm curious. Since you could've passed along the information I gave you directly to your superior… why didn't you?"
That was the biggest flaw in her behavior so far.
After obtaining critical information from him, she had an entire morning to report it. Plenty of time. No obstacles.
Yet she hadn't.
Not only that, she had come out here alone.
Why?
"Confirm whether Nina was there? Don't be ridiculous. Why would I risk exposing myself just to verify a piece of intel?"
A self-mocking smile curved Liza's lips. "If I said I never intended to tell Mom any of it from the start… would you believe me?"
Arthur met her gaze and nodded without hesitation. "I believe you."
"…Huh?"
His answer, so calm and certain, left her momentarily speechless.
Arthur, however, smoothly shifted topics. "You're probably more curious about how I found you, right?"
That snapped Liza back to reality. Her skill had still been active. She had been certain no one could track her so easily.
"How?"
"Very simple," Arthur replied lightly. "I didn't find you. You came to me."
A faintly cunning smile tugged at his lips. "You have some kind of stealth-type ability. Not true invisibility, more like cognitive interference. People subconsciously overlook you."
"I kept my eyes on you the entire time we were on the lawn. But for a split second, you vanished."
"In an open area like that, someone doesn't just disappear unless they can run hundreds of meters in seconds. So the only logical conclusion was that you activated a skill."
Liza exhaled and dropped the act. "Yeah. B-rank skill: [Presence Dilution]. I got it as a clear reward from a daily-life dungeon called 'That Girl Nobody Remembers.'"
Arthur raised an eyebrow, mildly surprised that a slice-of-life romance setting could appear within the Reincarnation Tower system. "What kind of quest did you complete there?"
Liza rolled her eyes at his misplaced curiosity. "Nothing dramatic. I helped a girl break free from a toxic guy. She gave me her skill as thanks. I didn't expect something this practical from that kind of dungeon."
"Which floor?"
"Third. What, you interested?" A sly smile crept onto her face. "How about this—you let me go, and I give you the full walkthrough."
Arthur stared at her flatly. "Do I look that naïve? I can't revisit Floor Three anyway. And a B-rank stealth skill isn't invincible. It must have restrictions."
More importantly, that wasn't what concerned him.
"Back to the point," he said, tone sharpening slightly. "Why did you really come here alone?"
Liza's shoulders slumped. "…I just wanted to see if Nina was safe."
She sighed. "After confirming she's fine, I was planning to withdraw from the dungeon."
That genuinely surprised Arthur. "You'd give up?"
"What choice do I have?"
She looked up at him, frustration and helplessness mixing in her eyes. "Do you know how attached Nina's become to me this past month? I've always wanted a little sister in real life. When she called me 'Big Sis,' I actually started wanting to protect her."
"Last night, I followed you because I needed to confirm whether Nina had really been adopted. I kept hoping that if this dungeon had to be cruel, it would only target us Reincarnators."
Her voice grew quieter.
"But when I saw that monster… that hope shattered."
Bitterness surfaced on her face.
She understood something clearly now: if she cleared the dungeon as a traitor, it would mean actively pushing those children toward death. That wasn't abstract competition, it was a deliberate choice.
And that weight was too heavy.
"I'd rather fail," she said softly. "At least then… I wouldn't have to carry that."
She wasn't foolish. Even after a single run as a traitor, she had already gathered enough intelligence to make better decisions in the future.
But this time…
She didn't want to win at that cost.
Unlike most undercover Reincarnators, she possessed [Presence Dilution], which allowed her to move around and gather intelligence almost anywhere without drawing attention.
It was true that she had missed crucial clues earlier, mainly because she hadn't infiltrated the central building of the farm in time. But now things were different.
She had pieced together the core truth.
She understood the structure of the farm.
She knew the existence of demons.
She had confirmed the traitor mechanism.
That alone was already invaluable intelligence.
With this knowledge, she was confident that on her next attempt, if she entered as an ordinary survivor instead of a traitor, she would have a far higher chance of clearing the dungeon properly.
Her lips pressed into a determined line.
"It's just 500 Reincarnation Points," she said firmly. "I can afford to lose that."
To her, this was no longer about ranking or evaluation. It was about not crossing a line she knew she would regret.
Failing once was acceptable.
But winning like this?
That wasn't something she was willing to pay for.