Welcome to the friendliest street in the world. Also the most dishonest.

White picket fences. Trimmed lawns. Mailboxes painted to match every house. And somewhere on this cul-de-sac, somebody who spends their nights burying bombs in the neighbors' gardens.

The Neighborhood Liars is social deduction and card bluffing for 4 to 12 people. You get two cards, two hearts, and absolutely no obligation to tell the truth.

Say anything. Prove nothing.

On your turn you play a card face down and declare what it is. That declaration can be a complete lie. If nobody challenges you, the effect happens anyway — invented or not.

But if someone slams the LIAR! button, the two of you draw revolvers in the middle of the plaza:

• You lied? You take the shot, lose a heart, and your real card is revealed to everyone.
  
• You told the truth? The accuser goes down instead — and your effect still happens.

Every card you play publicly shows which slot you spent, left or right. The whole table can track your hand. That is entirely on purpose.

The night belongs to the impostor

When the sun sets, everyone acts at the same time, in secret — and now the card is real, no bluffing allowed. You visit houses, shield neighbors, pick a house to stake out and punish whoever slipped out to do harm, swap someone's whole hand in the dark.

And the Bomber buries one more bomb. Nobody sees where. Not even the other impostors.

Come morning the rooster crows, the doors swing open, everyone steps outside together — and that is when you find out whose lawn had enough explosives under it. One bomb per heart: the house swells, shudders and vanishes in a cartoon mushroom cloud, roof cartwheeling all the way to the plaza.

Seven cards, fourteen uses

Every card does one thing by day and something completely different at night. The card you burn bluffing in daylight is the one you cannot use for real after dark.

• Vigilante — locks someone indoors by day; by night picks a house in the neighborhood to watch and punishes the owner if they slipped out to do harm.
  
• Protector — grants immunity by day; by night makes one house bomb-proof.
  
• Reckless — forces a card swap by day; by night swaps entire hands with you, and nobody knows who did it.
  
• Investor — invests this round's coin to collect four later; by night gambles it all at the town casino.
  
• Investigator — peeks at one card by day; by night stakes out a house and sees everyone who walked in.
  
• Thief — steals coins by day; by night sabotages someone, and their next play goes off at random targets without a soul noticing.
  
• Citizen — rests like a good neighbor and serves lemonade on the porch to the night's honest visitors. It is the only way to pass your turn — and the perfect bait: accuse a real Citizen and you lose a heart for nothing.

When talking stops working, call the meeting

Eight coins stop the day cold. Everyone puffs into a little cloud and reappears at the round table in the plaza, under a dramatic sunset. One minute of open-voice argument, fifteen seconds of mandatory voting — and whoever gets the most votes loses EVERY life to a cartoon firing squad.

Then their role is revealed. Good luck explaining yourself if you got it wrong.

What's in the box

• 4 to 12 players online, with Steam lobbies and overlay invites.
  
• In-game voice between players: open by day and at the meeting, muted at night for the suspense. Push-to-talk optional.
  
• Text chat with a separate channel for the dead — who see everything and may tell no one.
  
• An emote wheel for pointing, laughing, crying, suspecting and accusing without saying a word.
  
• 12 colors and 12 accessories unlocked by playing. No in-game purchases, ever.
  
• 15 achievements, some more embarrassing than others.
  
• A 90-second guided tutorial, and the full manual one key away.
  
• English and Brazilian Portuguese, text and voice, from day one.

One last thing

You will lie to your friends. They will lie to you. Somebody is going to blow up their own house by mistake and never hear the end of it.

That's the game.