An old tungsten filament bulb, suspended from the ceiling by a black wire, flickered dimly in the middle of the room.

The silence was like ink dripping into clear water, slowly spreading throughout the space.

In the center of the room stood a large round table, worn and weathered. At its center sat a small ornate clock, intricately patterned, ticking rhythmically. Around the table sat ten individuals, each dressed differently. Their clothes were shabby, and their faces smudged with dirt. Some were slumped over the table, others leaned back in their chairs, all deeply asleep.

Standing silently beside them was a man in a black suit, wearing a goat-headed mask. His gaze pierced through the cracks of the mask, watching the ten people with great interest.

The clock on the table chimed, its hands pointing straight at "twelve."

From somewhere far beyond the room, the low sound of a bell echoed faintly.

At that moment, the ten men and women seated around the table began to stir. As they regained consciousness, they glanced around the room in confusion, then looked at one another in puzzlement.

It seemed none of them remembered how they had ended up there.

"Good morning, my nine guests," the goat-headed man said, breaking the silence. "It's a pleasure to meet you here. You've been asleep before me for twelve hours."

The man's strange appearance under the dim light startled everyone. His mask seemed as though it had been made from a real goat's head. Much of the fur was yellowed and matted, tangled together. The hollowed-out eyes of the mask revealed his cunning gaze. Not only did he exude a musky, goat-like stench, but there was also a faint, sickly odor of decay clinging to him.

A tattooed man froze for a few seconds before realizing the absurdity of the situation. With hesitation, he asked, "Who… are you?"

"I'm sure you all have this question, so let me introduce myself," the goat-headed man said enthusiastically, waving his hands as though he had rehearsed this moment.

Sitting at the farthest end of the table from the goat-headed man was a young man named Qi Xia. He quickly scanned the room, his expression growing grim. Something about this room was off.

There were no doors—just four solid walls.

In other words, the room was completely sealed, including the floor and ceiling, with only the table in the middle.

So, how had they been brought here?

Were they placed here before the walls were built?

Qi Xia observed the walls closely. The floor, walls, and ceiling were all covered in intersecting lines that divided the surfaces into large squares. Another detail caught his attention: the goat-headed man had addressed them as "nine guests."

Yet there were ten people seated around the table. Including the goat-headed man, there were eleven individuals in the room.

What did he mean by "nine"?

Qi Xia reached into his pocket, unsurprised to find his phone missing.

"There's no need to introduce yourself," a cold-voiced woman interrupted. She looked at the goat-headed man with disdain and said, "I suggest you stop this immediately. I suspect you've detained us for over 24 hours, which constitutes unlawful imprisonment. Every word you say here can and will be used as evidence against you."

As she spoke, she brushed the dust from her arms with visible disgust, as though being dirty was more offensive to her than being imprisoned.

Her words snapped the others to attention. Whoever this man was, to have kidnapped ten people was not only audacious but undoubtedly illegal.

"Wait…" A middle-aged man in a white lab coat interrupted their thoughts, turning slowly to the cold-voiced woman. "We've just woken up. How do you know we've been held for '24 hours'?"

His tone was steady and precise, but his question was piercing.

The woman calmly pointed to the clock on the table. "The clock shows twelve o'clock. I have a habit of staying up late, and the last time I checked the time at home, it was also midnight. This means we've been held for at least twelve hours."

She then gestured to the surrounding walls. "You've probably noticed this room has no doors. For us to be in here, he must have gone to great lengths. He said we've been asleep for twelve hours. Now the clock points to twelve again, meaning it's gone around twice. So, I suspect it's been 'over 24 hours.' Any objections?"

The man in the lab coat gave her a cold glance, still skeptical. In this situation, her unnerving composure stood out.

Would a normal person remain so calm when faced with such a kidnapping?

At this moment, a muscular young man in a black T-shirt spoke up. "Goat-head, why are there ten of us, yet you say there are nine?"

The goat-headed man stayed silent, offering no immediate response.

"Damn it, I don't care how many there are…" the tattooed man cursed, attempting to stand. However, his legs felt weak and useless, forcing him to stay seated. Pointing at the goat-headed man, he yelled, "Listen, you bastard! You have no idea who you've messed with. If you don't let us go, I swear I'll kill you!"

His outburst brought a new tension to the group. It was clear someone needed to take charge. If they could overpower the goat-headed man together, they might regain control of the situation.

But as the others tried to move, they discovered that their legs, too, were limp and unresponsive, as though something had been injected into them.

Left with no other option, the tattooed man resorted to threats, shouting obscenities at the goat-headed man.

Qi Xia remained silent, his hand lightly stroking his chin. His eyes fell on the clock, deep in thought. Things were not as simple as they seemed.

The goat-headed man had said there were "nine participants." If there were ten people here, it could only mean that one of them was not a participant.

Who could it be?

Six men and four women. Could one of them be the kidnapper?

Without a word, the goat-headed man moved slowly to Qi Xia's side, standing behind a young man at the table.

The others followed his gaze and noticed that this young man was unlike the rest. Though his face was dirty, he wore a blissful smile.

The goat-headed man raised his hand and placed it gently on the back of the young man's head.

The young man's smile grew increasingly strange. He glanced at the others with excitement, as if he already knew something they didn't.

With a sickening thud, the goat-headed man slammed the young man's head into the table.

A spray of pink and white matter splattered across the table like paint, hitting everyone's faces. The young man's skull had been completely shattered against the surface.

From far outside the room, the sound of a distant bell echoed again.

Qi Xia, sitting close to the victim, felt something warm and sticky land on his face. Despite his strong nerves, he couldn't suppress the trembling in his hands.

A girl sitting to the right of the victim froze for three seconds before her face twisted in horror, and she let out a piercing scream.

Her cry shattered whatever composure the group had left.

To crush a human skull against a table with bare hands—was this goat-headed man even human?

His frail frame seemed capable of inhuman strength.

The goat-headed man spoke again, his voice chilling. "The reason there are ten of you is that I needed one to set an example."