As the flicker of the red candlelight wavered, a mysterious force spread within the dining room. Jerome abruptly looked up, keenly sensing something different about Dr. Sophocles.
The chef's gaze also deepened, seeing more than before. The soul of the man before him had completely changed; it was him, yet it was not him.
Was this his true face? The owner of the head lying on the plate? What would he do next?
In the solemn atmosphere and amidst the astonished gazes of everyone, Shiller sat down, his fingers swiftly tying his napkin around his neck, and he began to eat the food in front of him with his knife and fork.
His eating movements were elegant, devoid of any rush, yet his speed was remarkable. Before anyone else could react, he had cleared the plate of food.
Then he gently wiped his mouth with the napkin and rang the service bell with his finger.
Ding!
The sound echoed in the dining room, identical to that of an elevator.
The first waiter standing by the window approached him with a respectful attitude. Shiller spoke in a low and slow voice, "I have not eaten enough, please bring me another serving of food."
The waiter immediately nodded, walked toward the kitchen, and soon another cold dish was brought to Shiller. He ate it rapidly with the same demeanor as before, then rang the service bell again.
This time, the second waiter approached Shiller, adopting almost the same posture as the first, and asked the same question. Shiller gave the same response.
Then came the third serving, the fourth, the fifth.
Shiller's stomach seemed like a bottomless pit. No matter how much food was served, it vanished into his mouth at an incredible speed, and then he would immediately ring the service bell for another portion, ordering over a dozen dishes without showing any signs of being full.
Although hunger can be terrifying, continuing to eat beyond fullness is also uncomfortable. Just as one cannot disguise their hunger, most people cannot pretend they are full.
But Shiller's immense appetite for the food did not seem like something he could feign. Everyone could see that not only was he not satiated, but he was also extremely hungry.
An elderly man with silver hair cleared his throat, drawing everyone's attention. He said, "This round's list has been announced. We need to think about what to do next."
"He wants to kill us all!" a woman screamed, her eyes still intently fixed on Shiller, trying to intimidate him.
The old man displayed an impatient expression but still said, "If you kill him now, he wouldn't even count among those eliminated. It would be meaningless."
"But he has the answer." Another person added, "He committed such a wrongdoing; he should pay the price. Make him say the answer!"
The problem circled back to the beginning. Even if they forced Shiller to reveal the answers, it would still favor those with a stronger memory. Even if he spoke one line and others remembered it, everyone would share the same answers, potentially causing everyone to be eliminated.
Even if not, the chef could simply pick on the ugly handwriting, improper use of punctuation—such meaningless internal competition. Nobody had assurance that their weaknesses would not become the standard for elimination.
This type of elimination game relies on differences, not correctness. If everyone wrote poorly, then the 20 worst entries would need to be picked. If everyone wrote well, then those who wrote relatively worse would have to be chosen. Under circumstances where some people were bound to die creating a gap with others was the only way to survive.
Letting Shiller disclose the answer obviously could not create differences unless he disclosed it only to some, but that was nearly impossible since everyone was in the same space.
What made this rule even more despairing was that outside the rules, those eliminated did not count in the elimination quota, meaning even if they killed 20 people before this round started, once the time was up, another 20 would still have to die.
Thus, killing was pointless—not only that, but they would have to conserve as many lives as possible because the more people there were, the lower the chances of being among the last 20.
At that moment, the chef announced the rules for the third round; 30 people were to be eliminated.
Everyone broke down, as there were only about fifty people left in the entire dining room—the number to be eliminated was no longer a minority but the majority.
Pushed to the brink, someone couldn't hold back anymore. He charged toward Shiller, attempting to grab him while demanding, "Tell me the answer, you bastard. What did that guy say? What's the story with the soup?!"
Although other people inwardly mocked his recklessness, they were also curious. Would Shiller reveal the answer under pressure? If everyone knew the answer, would the chef continue the game?
But the man didn't reach Shiller.
He had just charged halfway when the waiter closest to him came over, pinned him to the ground, and stabbed him in the chest. Other waiters lifted him and carried him away.
The others, noticing the chef's commanding gaze across the room, realized he didn't want things to go this way. They reluctantly abandoned their plans, returned to their seats, and began to recall stories about the soup.
By this stage in the event, the vast majority of people were both desperate and exhausted, some scratching their heads in frustration, and others staring blankly, almost the entire restaurant only hearing the clear sound of Shiller's cutlery clashing against his plate.
Jerome had been staring at the burning red candle, but the table was too large. If he did not leave his seat, he could not possibly reach the candle, so he could only keep staring at it.
Although the chef was watching everyone scratch their heads in embarrassment, his gaze occasionally glanced over at Shiller, but unfortunately, Shiller kept eating, seemingly indifferent to the outside world.
Many people, disheartened, had finished writing their stories about the soup. Even those who were somewhat confident did not look pleased, because, obviously, they did not remember all the answers for the upcoming questions. It was just a matter of dying sooner or later.
But during the process of handing in all the papers, another incident occurred—suddenly, a skinny man crazily snatched a piece of paper from a woman not far from him and shredded it, then burst into insane laughter.
The woman was clearly caught off guard, and after she realized what had just happened to her, she immediately screamed in despair and picked up a fork to kill the man, but the people beside her held her tightly.
At this moment, killing a man in that manner made no sense; it would only decrease their number by one scapegoat.
However, the man's actions also reminded everyone present that if differences were to be made, physical intervention could solve the problem. By simply sabotaging the answers written by others could doom them to elimination.
It seemed the chef had no intention of stopping this, and many people immediately started plotting. More than half the answers had not yet been collected, and if they could protect their answers while destroying others', perhaps they might just make it through this elimination round that would slash their numbers significantly.
People immediately sprang into action. They first tucked their pieces of paper into the innermost pockets of their clothes, then grabbed their knives and forks and began to attack others.
In this fray, it was naturally the young and robust who had the advantage, while the elderly, who evidently lacked the physical strength, were in big trouble, as everyone targeted them.
In fact, not many of the frail had survived until now. Most of the wealthy were well-maintained, so people generally targeted based on age, as the aging of the human body is irreversible; the older, the easier to bully.
The young people teamed up to catch the elderly first. They didn't kill them, but they did snatch away the papers in their hands. Some of the more ruthless even chopped off their fingers to prevent them from writing, robbing them of any chance to redeem themselves.
But there weren't that many elderly people. After handling all of them, they had eliminated only about a dozen people, meaning that another dozen still needed to be cut before they could advance. Everyone's eyes then turned to each other.
At that moment, someone targeted Shiller.
Shiller was still eating.
He seemed like a Taotie who could never be satisfied. The waiters lined up in front of the window had already taken turns serving him, but he remained engrossed in his meal, eating eagerly and voraciously.
A tall, redhead man targeted him. His table was very close to Shiller's, and it seemed that Shiller was unguarded, with the paper casually placed beside him. Shiller was busy eating and had not glanced at it even once.
So, by moving as quickly as possible to snatch the paper, one could ensure that Shiller had no answers to submit, thereby completely eliminating a competitor who was bound to win in the upcoming rounds and securing a spot for survival.
The redhead man made his move.
He crouched like a cheetah and charged towards Shiller's table, reaching out his arm and touching the sheet in exactly the way he had hoped.
At that moment, he was almost ecstatic because before he made his move, he had thought of another possibility.
If he managed to get the sheet, he could peek at its contents before destroying it and add some to his own. This way, he would gain an advantage others didn't have, successfully creating a difference between himself and the others, thus ensuring survival in this round of the game.
Thinking this, the redhead man eagerly pulled his hand back, but he hadn't fully regained his balance yet. In his haste, his elbow bumped directly into Shiller's arm.
Knives and forks require both hands to handle, and with this touch, the fork in Shiller's hand dropped directly onto the table.
At this moment, the closest waiter acted with a speed no one could see clearly. Almost teleporting, he arrived beside Shiller, grabbed the redhead man's neck like picking up a small chicken, and with a snap, twisted his neck, breaking it.
As he made his move towards Shiller, others were also watching this situation. They were indeed interested in the answers Shiller held, but because they were farther away, they couldn't act faster than this man, so they gave up.
This unexpected turn made everyone indignantly silent towards the chef. What was so special about this man named Sophocles? Why wouldn't the chef let him be killed?
But the majority were only silently angry. After all, the selection of answers was done on a named basis. If they angered the chef now, he might deliberately choose them as one of the people to be eliminated next, and that would be a real reason to cry without a place to go.
Gradually, everyone handed in their answers, and the chef took all the sheets to the kitchen. After a while, he came back out to announce the elimination list.
Another dozen people were dead.