Listen, I know you were promised artistic freedom and all that, however, the setup is pretty restricting by itself, so I just want to throw some ideas out there on how to best approach story building in order to avoid inconsistency and maximize synergy instead.
The main problem is to translate the fact that there are 9 players and 12 anonymous voting slots --using altered versions of previously provided passwords for authentification-- into flavor. One way to approach solving it would be to ask yourself "What happens when townies get endgamed by mafia?"
There's no reason to assume that once mafia irrevocably won their right to exist they'd simply persist in harming the losing faction. Instead, in a continuum of conquerors at risk of being conquered themselves, what remains after the lynching and killing has ceased will seek to gain strength in number and organisation. If no immediate threats manifest then time is the enemy and progeny and culture the way to transcend the limitations of individual lifespans, and maintain permanent sovereignty over one's territory, as opposed to suffering the same fate as the previous inhabitants of the town.
For example have the passwords be ancient discrimination-magic incantations, thought up by the ancestors of the 7 non-mafia players, transmitted from generation to generation throug the ages as a defense mechanism against getting lynched when a minority of militant invaders are clandestinely gunning for a hostile takeover of the town.
While half of the incantations are taught of as gifts to be shared with good friends or with a partner in marriage, the other half was to be transmitted exclusively to the children of the victorious informed minority faction, as a way to brand them with the mark of the majority-to-be.
Unfortunately children don't take it seriously or are too stupid to memorize them, or their parents die before they can teach them, so a time comes when the Temple of Four Faces is built. Four statues, physically meant to depict the survivors, but metaphorically symbolizing the most important traits of existence: effort, value, relevance and purpose, are erected to watch over all the incantation fragments inscribed on the walls.
Most relevantly though, a lineage of priests is appointed in order to safeguard the secret of encoding the incantations within their order. They educate and remind the children of those who are majority-worthy of the importance of their heritage, while cursing the progeny of the rest, leading them down the damning road of the underprivileged and mislead, pressuring them into organized revolt, recycling their wealth via people like yourself: the weapons dealers and shady shopkeepers.
The priests of the order of Four Faeces believe that empathy with the supreme being is best achieved meditating in a circle facing away from each other, and herp derping their eyes until the left eye of one is focusing the same direction as the right of the other.
While an individual is left visually challenged and looking utterly stupid, the collective entity is seeing in 3d in all directions.