"I swear I won't tell anyone what I saw," Nina said frantically, tracing the sign of the cross over her chest.
"I swear to God!"
Jake froze for a mont, then nodded repeatedly.
" too! I swear!"
"Relax. I'm an exorcist."
Gideon showed them an official docunt stamped with a local governnt seal.
These papers were prepared by the Church in advance, precisely to avoid unnecessary conflict with authorities.
After that, he gave them a brief explanation of the supernatural realities of this world.
With a monster still lying right in front of them, the two finally believed him.
"I thought all those news reports were just pranks…"
Nina clutched her chest in fear.
She suddenly rembered a serial murder case from two weeks ago—the killer had worn a white mask.
"Wait—if there are more of those things in the forest…"
Jake's face changed.
"Doesn't that an this survival show is insanely dangerous?"
Gideon snapped his fingers.
"Congratulations. You've gained the most important skill for surviving a horror scenario—basic intelligence."
"…Uh. Th-thank you?"
Jake looked confused. It sounded like praise, but sothing about it felt off.
"But if we don't participate," Nina said hesitantly,
"we won't get the hundred thousand dollars."
Gideon shrugged.
"The choice is yours."
"Father Gideon, the other contestants and staff don't know any of this yet."
Jake's gaze hardened with resolve.
"We have to go to the eting site and warn them."
Gideon raised an eyebrow.
Such moral courage was admirable—but in horror stories, good people often died first.
Still, he'd planned to go there anyway.
Jenny's whereabouts were still unknown.
He needed to capture more Mountain n and question them.
Trying to do it alone was inefficient—and the forest was riddled with traps.
Besides, those creatures were already watching the contestants.
Following the group would save ti.
After considering the pros and cons, Gideon nodded.
"Alright."
Before leaving, he found a wooden branch and impaled the head of the dead Mountain Man on it, displaying it as a warning for anyone who ca after.
Once that was done, he stuffed the still-living monster into the truck bed and climbed back into the pickup.
---
A few minutes later, in a clearing deep in the forest—
"It's this late—why are three people still missing?"
Director Michael stord out of his RV, livid.
"Where's the producer?"
"Here!"
Mara raised her hand and jogged over.
"We can't reach Kimberly," she reported.
"Nina said she was riding with Jake, but we've lost contact with both of them too."
Michael muttered a curse starting with F, then pulled Mara aside and whispered tensely:
"Sweetheart, this is our one shot.
Kids today only want extre, shocking content. If this show takes off, I'll get back into Hollywood!"
"You took out a loan for that hundred grand.
And all the props and scripts—you put everything into this."
He stared into her eyes.
"We have to make this work. Do you understand?"
Mara pressed her lips together, then nodded.
"It's my fault. I'll try calling again."
"Hey—we're going to succeed."
Seeing her mood darken, Michael softened, leaned in, and kissed her.
"I know. I'll do my best—for you."
Mara finally smiled.
Just then—
Honk! Honk!
A pickup truck rolled into the clearing.
Nina and Jake jumped out.
"Thank God! What took you so long?"
Michael hurried over.
"Where's Kimberly?"
Then his gaze drifted toward the driver's seat—
and froze.
A… priest?
"What the—?"
Michael blinked.
"Did you two stop to get married at a church or sothing?"
"Michael, there's sothing you need to know…"
Nina said hesitantly.
---
A short ti later—
"What the hell is that thing?"
A group of people surrounded the captured Mountain Man, faces filled with disgust and unease.
Nina and the others had already told them what happened.
As expected, most initially refused to believe it.
But now—in front of their eyes—
Doubt began to crack.
"Father Gideon,"
a middle-aged man in camouflage stepped forward, arms covered in tattoos.
"You're saying these Mountain People are hiding in the forest right now?"
Gideon recognized him imdiately.
Dale Murphy.
A retired soldier—and one of the very few characters in the Wrong Turn series who possessed both brains and combat ability.
Sadly, later, he'd fallen victim to pure plot armor slaughter.
"That's right."
Gideon nodded calmly.
"Once you split up, they'll make their move."
On the way here, he'd already spotted multiple traps.
To ensure safety, he had dismantled every single one of them.
Dale fell into deep thought.
As the survival show's field instructor, he had investigated the area thoroughly before arriving.
There were rumors about cannibals, yes—but the locals all dismissed them as fiction.
Tourism here was doing well, and even the police had issued no warnings.
That was why Dale had chosen this location for the program.
But having served in the military, he knew certain truths civilians didn't.
Monsters did exist in this world.
It was only because governnts worked quietly with the Church and other forces that ordinary people remained safe.
Now that this priest had issued a clear warning, the only rational response was to leave imdiately.
Reaching a decision, Dale ordered everyone to start packing.
"Hey! Dale—we can't leave!" Michael suddenly shouted.
When everyone turned to look at him, Michael quickly pulled Dale aside.
"This is a golden opportunity!" Michael said excitedly.
"Humans versus mutants—a real survival show!"
His eyes burned with fervor.
"Once this airs, it'll blow up all of Hollywood!"
"Have you lost your mind?" Dale snapped.
"Do you have any idea how dangerous those things are?"
He recalled a past operation.
Firearms had been useless against undead demons.
His entire squad had nearly been wiped out.
Only the tily intervention of a Church exorcist had saved them.
"Dale!" Michael barked.
"Have you forgotten why you ca here in the first place?"
There was a trace of madness in his eyes.
"Gemma has been disappointed in you ti and ti again.
Are you really going to let her down again?"
Dale fell silent.
Gemma was his ex-wife.
They had a child together.
Once, they'd been deeply in love.
But after Dale was discharged from the army due to a corruption scandal, Gemma had borne the burden of the family alone.
He'd sworn to find steady work—but rejection after rejection drove him to alcoholism.
Lies.
Decay.
Endless conflict.
In the end, Gemma left him, taking their child with her.
Dale regretted it more than anything.
This ti, he wanted to get his life back on track.
And this survival show—this was his proof to Gemma.
Once it aired, he would go to her and try to make things right.
Standing so close to his goal, Dale wavered.
Seeing this, Michael pressed on.
"That priest isn't just clergy—he's an exorcist!"
"We can hire him as security!"
"With you and him together, the Mountain n don't stand a chance!"
Hesitation flickered in Dale's eyes.
After a long mont, resolve settled in.
"That's the situation, Father Gideon," Michael said with a bright smile.
"Please—you have to agree."
"We'll give you ten percent of the rights!"
"No—twenty percent!"
Gideon raised an eyebrow.
He genuinely hadn't expected this.
Even after being told—clearly and directly—that cannibalistic monsters were roaming the forest…
Even after seeing proof with their own eyes—
These people were still clinging to hope.
He shook his head inwardly.
Desire is the fastest road to death. So people can't be saved—even if you put the brakes right in front of them.
Still, Michael's proposal wasn't without rit.
With sufficient manpower, Gideon could reverse the situation—turn the forest into a hunting ground.
After brief consideration, he shook his head.
"No interest."
"Survival shows require people to split up. That's suicide."
"Good luck."
He stood to leave.
"Wait—don't!"
Michael rushed to block him.
"We'll throw out the script! Everything!"
"We'll follow your orders!"
Gideon raised an eyebrow.
"You sure?"
Michael nodded vigorously.
"All staff—including —will follow your commands."
"From this mont on," he said firmly,
"you're the director of this show."
Gideon rubbed his chin, appearing thoughtful.
Michael and Dale held their breath.
"…Fine," Gideon sighed.
"Protecting civilians is part of the Church's duty."
"But I stay in the command role. I won't participate in the survival segnt."
"No problem!"
They nearly shouted in unison.
Soon, Michael gathered everyone and announced the decision.
A handful chose to leave.
The rest stayed—for various reasons.
"Father Gideon," Michael said, switching on a cara,
"what should we do?"
Gideon covered his face with a black cloth.
He had no intention of appearing onscreen every ti this footage aired.
"Those staying, split into three groups," he ordered calmly.
"Move all vehicles to the center."
Functional transportation was critical in any situation.
And according to the original events, the Mountain n excelled at ambush and stealth.
The first priority was to move all vehicles away from trees and tall grass.
Once the cars were positioned in the clearing, Gideon set up multiple defensive formations around them.
With that, the Mountain n would be unable to enter unnoticed.
Next ca gathering bottles, cans, and debris.
Using the RVs as the center point, warning traps were placed around the periter.
This was sothing Gideon had learned from Lance back in Saint Friedrich.
With these asures in place, silent approaches beca nearly impossible.
Food was stored separately.
Multiple evacuation routes were mapped.
Under Gideon's command, the film set transford into a military command center.
A strong sense of security spread among the group, and their fear gradually subsided.
Dale, anwhile, was stunned.
The priest's preparations were ticulous.
So tactics ran counter to his military training—but considering their enemies weren't human, it made sense.
Dale even started quietly taking notes.
Learning from this exorcist might save my life soday.
---
Inside the RV.
While everyone else stayed busy, Gideon remained alone.
Multiple cara feeds flickered on the monitors—originally installed to film the show.
Now, they served a far more practical purpose.
Monitoring the surroundings.
"Oops~"
The RV door opened.
Gideon turned.
A brunette beauty stepped inside, her collar pulled dangerously low, her curves nearly spilling into the cramped space.
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