The woman's scream ceased abruptly, and the collective thoughts of the onlookers came to an immediate halt.
The men who had been shouting and cursing moments ago now fell into stunned silence.
This was no longer a matter of mere transgression—the monstrosity before them was undeniably capable of murder.
For over a minute, an oppressive hush hung in the air before the goat-headed figure gave a slow, deliberate nod. "Very well. Nine of you. It seems you have all quieted down."
Expressions twisted with fear, but no one dared to utter a word. He was right. There were indeed only nine of them now.
With trembling hands, Qi Xia reached up and plucked a powdery yellow fragment from his face.
The shattered piece of brain matter, still warm, quivered slightly—as though clinging to the last vestiges of life. But within seconds, it deflated like a punctured balloon, drained of all vitality.
Gesturing toward his own mask, the figure spoke. "I am the 'Man-Goat.' You are the 'Participants.'"
A moment of stunned silence followed. Then, bewilderment flickered across the faces of the group. 'Man-Goat'? 'Participants'?
"I have gathered you all here for one purpose—to take part in a game. A game to bring forth a god." The goat-headed man's tone was unnervingly calm.
Yet those words alone sent waves of unease through the room.
In the brief moments they had spent with him, it had become clear that this man was a lunatic. And now, this lunatic was speaking of creating a god?
"A god…?" The muscular young man, tension tightening his jaw, forced the question out.
"A god akin to Nuwa!" The Man-Goat's movements grew frenzied, his voice laced with delirium. The stench of musk clung to him as he gestured wildly. "Magnificent, isn't it? You will all bear witness to history! Once, Nuwa created humanity, only to dissolve into a rainbow upon mending the heavens… But we cannot afford to lose Nuwa again! We must forge a new Nuwa! A great purpose awaits this god!"
His voice surged with manic fervor, his entire being thrumming with intoxicated zeal.
"Nuwa…" The muscular young man furrowed his brows. The sheer absurdity of it made his stomach churn. After a pause, he forced out another question. "Are you some kind of cult?"
"Cult?" The Man-Goat hesitated for a brief moment, then turned his head toward the young man. "We are grander than a mere 'cult.' We possess an entire 'world.'"
The weight of those words sank into the crowd, pulling them into uneasy silence once more.
The young man's question had struck a nerve. This figure's actions mirrored those of a deranged cult leader, yet most cults sought to fabricate new deities—not resurrect a legendary figure like Nuwa.
"If that's the case…" The muscular man pressed on. "What exactly do you want us to 'participate' in?"
"As I said before—a game." The Man-Goat responded without hesitation. "And should you emerge victorious, one among you will ascend as a 'god.'"
"Bloody hell…" The tattooed man, who had been regaining his composure, let out a string of curses. "So this is some kind of 'Investiture of the Gods,' then? And if we lose?"
The Man-Goat cast a glance at the blood staining his hands, his expression tinged with disappointment. "If you lose… well, that would be unfortunate."
He didn't need to elaborate.
The message was clear.
Losing meant death.
There was no path that led to simply walking away from this.
One could either become his so-called 'god'—or end up like the young man whose skull had just blossomed open.
"If everyone understands…" The Man-Goat continued, his tone light, almost playful. "Then let the game officially begin. This round is called 'The Liar.'"
From the folds of his clothing, he slowly retrieved a thick stack of paper, then strolled leisurely around the room, placing a single sheet in front of each participant.
Next, he produced several pens and distributed them as well.
The table bore the stains of fresh blood. As each sheet landed, red smudges marred the pristine white pages. When flipped over, a careless swipe of the hand spread the crimson like paint, soaking deeper into the paper.
"Now," the Man-Goat announced, "each of you will recount the final event that took place before you arrived here. However, among you, one person will tell a lie. Once all nine of you have spoken, you must vote. If all eight correctly identify 'The Liar,' the liar will be eliminated, and the rest shall survive. But if even one of you votes incorrectly, the liar lives… and the rest of you perish."
"The Liar…?"
A flicker of confusion passed through the group. Who would dare lie at a time like this?
"Wait—are we allowed to discuss our 'strategy' beforehand?" The muscular man suddenly interjected.
"By all means." The Man-Goat gave an indulgent nod. "Before the game commences, you have one minute to strategize. Would you like to use it now… or later?"
"I'll use it now." The muscular man didn't hesitate.
"As you wish."
The Man-Goat took a step back, distancing himself from the table.
The muscular man pressed his lips together, then swept his gaze over the others, deliberately avoiding the headless corpse sprawled across the table. Finally, he spoke. "I don't know who among us will be forced to lie, but this 'rule' is too harsh. If even one person misvotes, we all die. And even if we pick correctly, the liar still dies. No matter what, there will be a casualty. However, I've thought of a way for all of us to survive…"
At his words, heads turned toward him.
A way for all of them to live? Was such a thing possible?
"We simply tell the truth." The muscular man wasted no time in revealing his plan. "Each of us speaks honestly, and when it comes time to vote, we all write down 'No one lied.' This way, we do not violate the rules, and we can all make it out alive."
A man in a white coat tapped his fingers lightly against the table before voicing his doubt. "Your plan is solid—on one condition. That is, 'you yourself are not The Liar.' But how can we trust you? If you are The Liar, and we all write 'No one lied,' then you alone will survive."
"What kind of nonsense is that?" The muscular man's expression darkened. "If I were The Liar, why would I suggest this plan? All I'd have to do is protect myself."
The Man-Goat waved his hand dismissively. "Time's up. Cease discussion."
The two men shot each other icy glares before falling silent.
The cards were roughly the size of a standard playing card, with four characters scrawled on the back—『Nuwa Game』.
The muscular man froze. "What is this?"
"Your 'Identity Card.'" The Man-Goat chuckled. "If you draw 'The Liar,' you must lie."
The muscular man clenched his jaw. "You played us?! If this rule existed, why didn't you mention it before?"
The Man-Goat sneered. "A lesson in patience. I had not yet finished explaining, yet you rushed to ask about strategies. You wasted your own precious minute—not I."
His face darkened, but remembering the brutality of this creature, he swallowed his anger.
One by one, they each drew a card from the Man-Goat's hands. Yet none dared to turn them over.
For those who held 'The Liar,' this was no mere label.
It was a death sentence.
The hands of the four women trembled slightly. The men's expressions, too, were grim.
This was not merely a game of 'identity.'
It was a game of 'life and death.'
Qi Xia took a deep breath, resting his fingertip on the edge of his card before sliding it toward himself.
With a slow, deliberate motion, he flipped it open.
Three bold characters stared back at him—
『The Liar.』