At that moment, the tattooed man raised his hand and turned to the goat-headed figure. "Hey, referee, how do we handle someone using an alias? Does that count as lying?"
The goat-headed figure neither nodded nor shook his head. Instead, he replied indifferently, "I will no longer interfere in any of this. You need only write down the names according to your own judgment. Just remember one thing—'The rules are absolute.' In the end, I will personally carry out the 'punishment' of the defeated."
The word "punishment" echoed with a chilling finality, sending a shiver down everyone's spine.
"This—this proves I wasn't lying!" Tiantian shouted anxiously. "If I had lied, I would be dead already, right? Even if it's an alias, my alias is indeed 'Tiantian'!"
No one answered her. At this critical moment, where life and death hung in the balance, no doubt could be left unchecked.
"Guess it's my turn, then," the tattooed man muttered, curling his lips in reluctance. "If this lady's story isn't considered a lie, then mine certainly shouldn't be either."
"My name is Qiao Jiajin. I live in Guangdong. No particular occupation. Before I came here, I was collecting a debt."
His Mandarin was heavily accented, forcing everyone to listen carefully.
"People these days are something else. When they need money, they agree to anything, but when it's time to repay, they start playing the victim."
"Ham ga chan! They curse us debt collectors as demons, as heartless creatures."
"But that fool should look at it from another perspective. When he was at his lowest, when he was desperate for money, who lent him a hand? When every institution turned him away, who gave him the money? To him, I wasn't a devil—I was a savior."
"And how did he treat his savior?"
"He wept to everyone about his suffering, claiming he was scammed out of two million, vilifying us as ruthless for demanding what was owed. He thought he could solve his predicament by earning the sympathy of neighbors and friends. But when he borrowed the money, we signed a contract. The interest rates were crystal clear. Now that he can't pay it back, is that my problem?"
"Last night, I planned to teach him a lesson. I tied him up on the rooftop of a bar. But then, an earthquake struck out of nowhere. I never intended to kill him, yet that bastard seized the chaos, pulled a knife, and tried to stab me!"
"In the mayhem, I tackled him off the rooftop. We crashed into an advertising board. After that... I remember nothing."
As the story ended, the room grew heavy with frowns.
Tiantian, however, seemed to have noticed something. She let out a cold, mocking laugh. "Aha! So that's why you tried to smear me! Turns out, you're the liar here!"
"What? What makes you say that?" Qiao Jiajin snapped, eyes dark with hostility.
"I'm in Shaanxi, and you're in Guangdong!" Tiantian jabbed a finger at him. "Your story is clearly a cheap imitation of mine! I experienced an earthquake, and suddenly, you did too? I crashed into an advertising board, and you also hit one? If that's not lying, what is?"
"I don't care where you are! I experienced an earthquake!" the tattooed man shot back, his gaze fierce. "If I had hidden that fact, that would be lying! And as for the advertising board—are you seriously claiming there's only one in the whole world?"
"You're lying, plain and simple!" Tiantian pointed at Qiao Jiajin, her voice firm. "Your kind is nothing but scum. Lying is second nature to you!"
"Hah! And what noble profession do you belong to?"
Qi Xia watched the heated exchange, an uneasy feeling creeping over him.
It wasn't about who was lying—it was something else entirely.
Because he, too, had experienced an earthquake.
Yet he was neither in Shaanxi nor in Guangdong. He was in Shandong.
Could such a vast earthquake exist in this world?
It had spanned half the country, shaking three separate provinces.
If all their accounts were true, then this was no ordinary disaster—it was unprecedented.
"Enough. Let's just finish this," a burly man seated across from them interrupted, silencing the quarrel. He turned to the next participant, a young woman. "Your turn. If we truly want to determine who's lying, we should hear everyone out first."
The two fell silent, scoffing but saying no more.
Beside Qiao Jiajin, a timid-looking woman hesitantly nodded and spoke, "M-my name is Xiao Ran... I'm a kindergarten teacher."
Her voice was soft, trembling with unease.
"Before coming here, I was waiting with a child for his parents. His mother usually picked him up, but I heard she had fallen seriously ill—there was something in her brain, and she needed surgery. So, his father had been coming instead... except he often forgot."
"It was already past six in the evening. I had long since finished work, but for some reason, his father wouldn't pick up his phone..."
"I didn't know their home address, so I couldn't take him back myself. I had no choice but to wait with him at the street corner."
"I actually had plans that night... I had an appointment with a psychologist. I've been feeling disillusioned with my job, and I wanted someone to help me make sense of it."
"But I waited for hours, and my appointment went down the drain."
"Just when I was lost in thought, the ground suddenly started shaking. I was terrified... It took me several seconds to even realize it was an earthquake."
"It didn't feel like how they describe it—it wasn't jolting but swaying, as if I were standing on a table someone was violently rocking back and forth..."
"My first instinct was to grab the child and hold him close, but I had no idea what to do. I saw the three pagodas of Chongsheng Temple in the distance, cracking apart before my eyes... We were lucky to be in an open area."
"Then, a car came speeding toward us, out of control... I tried to run, clutching the child, but the ground's tremors made every step a struggle."
"I fell, hit my head, and blacked out... When I woke up, I was here."
Her story was unremarkable.
Yet one thing unsettled Qi Xia—"Chongsheng Temple's Three Pagodas."
Those towers stood in Dali, Yunnan.
He traced his fingers over the card on the table, half-covering the words beneath. But he knew what was written there—"Liar."
Could there be multiple liars?
If "the rules are absolute," then what the goat-headed figure had declared—"There is only one liar"—must be true.
Since he had drawn the "Liar" card, no one else could be lying. There was only one liar.
Which meant... they were all telling the truth.
And yet, their stories, spanning three provinces, wove together in an unsettling way.
Not just the earthquakes. Even the details were linking together. Was that not the strangest thing of all?
The room fell silent as everyone turned their attention to the next person—the middle-aged man in the white coat.