The woman's scream ceased, and everyone's thoughts came to an abrupt halt. Moments ago, the men who had been cursing and shouting also fell silent.
This was no longer a question of "breaking the law." The creature before them was truly capable of murder.
For over a minute, the room was shrouded in silence before the goat-headed figure gave a slight nod. "Very good, now it seems the nine of you have quieted down."
The group's expressions shifted, but no one dared to speak. Just as he said, there were now truly only "nine."
Qi Xia reached out a trembling hand to peel a pale yellow piece of something from his cheek. The shattered piece of brain tissue, still warm, pulsed faintly, but after a few seconds, it lost vitality like a deflated balloon.
"Now, allow me to introduce myself," said the goat-headed figure, raising his blood-stained fingers to gesture toward his mask. "I am Ren Yang, and you are the participants."
The group froze, their faces clouded with confusion. "Ren Yang," "participants"?
"I've gathered you all here to participate in a game, the ultimate purpose of which is to create a god," the goat-headed figure continued in a flat tone.
These words made everyone frown. Over the past few minutes, they had come to understand that this man was a lunatic. But now, this lunatic claimed he was here to create a god?
"A god… like what?" asked a burly young man nervously.
"Like Nuwa! A god like Nuwa!" the goat-headed figure exclaimed, his gestures animated. His goat-like stench intensified as his voice grew sharp. "How magnificent! You will bear witness to history alongside me. Long ago, Nuwa created humanity but transformed into a rainbow while patching the heavens… We cannot lose Nuwa! So we must create her anew! A great mission awaits our god!"
His voice rose to a fever pitch, as if fueled by an intoxicating fervor.
"Nuwa…" The young man frowned deeply. The idea seemed utterly absurd, but he hesitated before asking, "Are you some kind of religious group?"
"Religious group?" The goat-headed figure tilted his head slightly and stared at the man. "We are far grander than a mere religion. We have an entire world."
The room fell silent once more.
The young man's question was pointed: the goat-headed figure's actions were no different from those of a cult. Yet most cults tended to fabricate new gods rather than repurpose figures like Nuwa, a hero from ancient mythology.
"In that case," the man pressed on, "what do you want us to do here?"
"As I said, a game," the goat-headed figure replied without hesitation. "The winner will become the god."
The tattooed man muttered a curse under his breath. "So this is a damned Investiture of the Gods. And if we lose?"
"If you lose…" The goat-headed figure glanced at the blood on his hands and replied with faint disappointment, "Then that's truly unfortunate."
He didn't say it outright, but the group understood his implication: lose, and you die.
Among the choices he offered, "walking out alive" wasn't one of them. It was either become the god or die like the young man whose head was smashed.
"If everyone understands," the goat-headed figure continued, "then let the game officially begin. This round is called The Liar."
From his pocket, the goat-headed figure pulled out a stack of papers and began to casually hand them out to each person, along with pens.
The bloodstained table smeared red streaks across the papers as they were placed down. Flipping the pages revealed that the white sheets quickly absorbed the blood, turning a deep crimson.
"Now, each of you must tell a story about the last thing that happened to you before coming here," the goat-headed figure instructed. "But keep in mind: among the nine of you, one will be lying. Once everyone has finished sharing, you will vote. If all eight correctly identify the liar, the liar will be eliminated, and the rest will survive. However, if even one of you votes incorrectly, the liar will survive, and everyone else will be eliminated."
"The liar…?" The group looked confused. Was someone really going to lie in a life-and-death situation like this?
"Wait, can we discuss a strategy?" the burly young man asked suddenly.
"Feel free," the goat-headed figure replied. "You have one minute to strategize. Now or later—it's up to you."
"I want to use it now," the young man said without hesitation.
"Go ahead."
The goat-headed figure took a step back, retreating from the table.
The young man pursed his lips and looked around the group. Avoiding the sight of the headless corpse slumped over the table, he began, "I don't know if any of you are planning to lie, but the rules of this game are ridiculously harsh. If even one person gets it wrong, we all die. And even if we get it right, the liar dies. Either way, someone ends up dead. But I've thought of a way for all of us to survive."
The others turned their attention to him.
Was it really possible for everyone to survive?
"We all tell the truth," the young man declared without waiting for their thoughts to catch up. "If none of us lies, we write down 'Nobody lied' on our papers. This way, we're not breaking the rules, and we all live."
A man in a white coat tapped his finger on the table thoughtfully before speaking. "Your plan is good, but it's based on one assumption: that you aren't the liar. Why should we believe you? If you're the liar, and we all write 'Nobody lied,' you'll be the only one who survives."
"What are you saying?" The burly man's face darkened with anger. "If I were the liar, why would I suggest this plan? I'd only need to save myself!"
The goat-headed figure raised his hand slightly, interrupting them. "Your one minute is up. Please stop talking."
The two men exchanged cold glances but stayed silent.
"Next, draw your cards," the goat-headed figure instructed, pulling a deck of cards from his pocket. The cards were the size of playing cards, with the words "Nuwa Game" printed on the back.
The burly man frowned. "What are these?"
"Identity cards," the goat-headed figure said with a grin. "Whoever draws the 'Liar' card must lie."
"You're screwing with us!" The young man slammed his fist on the table. "Why didn't you tell us this rule earlier?"
"This is a lesson for you," the goat-headed figure said coldly. "You wasted your precious minute asking to strategize without letting me finish explaining the rules. That's on you, not me."
The young man's face darkened with suppressed anger, but he swallowed it down.
One by one, the nine participants drew a card. None dared flip their cards over immediately. The trembling hands of the four women betrayed their fear, while the men's faces were equally grim.
They weren't just drawing an "identity." They were drawing their fate.
Qi Xia took a deep breath and nonchalantly slid his card toward himself. Slowly, he flipped it open.
On it were three bold words:
The Liar.