Unlike a certain townhouse owner with hidden cameras in every guest bedroom, we actually respect your privacy
Less than a hidden camera in a guest bedroom collects in a single evening. Your player name (which you make up — we recommend something you wouldn't mind seeing on a flight manifest), your room code (temporary, like a certain financier's first prison sentence), and your card choices (which vanish when the game ends, unlike certain VHS tapes that somehow keep turning up). We don't require accounts, emails, or any personal information.
Nothing survives the room closing — unlike certain recordings in a certain safe in a certain Manhattan townhouse that somehow made it through an FBI raid. We don't keep logs of your card choices. Your terrible sense of humor is between you and your friends. We learned from the mistakes of people who kept meticulous records of things they absolutely should not have been doing.
No tracking cookies. No ad networks. No analytics. No hidden cameras in the guest bedroom. We don't monitor our guests — unlike a certain financier who kept meticulous records of everyone who walked through his front door, and his back door, and his island dock. The only thing tracking you here is your own conscience — and possibly whoever's reading over your shoulder right now wondering why you're on a website called "Epstein Against Humanity."
We share less data with third parties than a cooperating witness in a federal investigation — which is to say, none. Zero. We don't use any third-party services, because unlike certain people, we don't keep a client list, a black book, or a hard drive full of things that could topple governments. Your visit here is between you and God. And honestly, after playing this game, you might want to have that conversation sooner rather than later.