Chapter 2: Lying

The woman’s scream ceased, and the thoughts of the crowd came to an abrupt halt as well.

The few men who had been shouting and cursing just moments ago now fell silent.

This was no longer a matter of “breaking the law”—the bizarre figure before them was truly capable of murder.

A full minute of dead silence passed before the Goat Head gave a slight nod. “Good. Nine of you. It seems you’ve all quieted down.”

The crowd paled, but no one dared speak. Just as he said, there were indeed “nine” now.

Qi Xia stretched out a trembling hand and peeled a pinkish-yellow lump from his face.

The shattered piece of brain, still warm, pulsed faintly for a few seconds before deflating like a punctured balloon, lifeless.

“Now, allow me to introduce myself…” The Goat Head raised a bloodied finger, pointing to his mask. “I am the ‘Human Goat,’ and you are the ‘Participants.'”

The crowd froze, then exchanged puzzled glances. “Human Goat”? “Participants”?

“You’ve been gathered here today to take part in a game—one that will ultimately create a ‘God,'” the Goat Head said, his tone eerily calm.

These two sentences, delivered in succession, made everyone frown.

After these few minutes, they had already concluded that this man was a lunatic. But now this lunatic claimed he was going to create a “God”?

“Create… what kind of God?” The burly young man asked nervously.

“A God like ‘Nuwa’!” The Goat Head gestured wildly, his pungent odor filling the air as his voice twisted with fervor. “How magnificent! Together, you and I will witness history! Nuwa once created humanity, yet she turned into a rainbow while mending the heavens… We cannot lose Nuwa, so we must create a new one! A grand task awaits—one only a ‘God’ can accomplish!”

His voice rose with manic energy, as though electrified.

“Nuwa…” The burly young man frowned deeply, struggling to process this absurdity. After a pause, he asked, “Are you some kind of cult?”

“A cult?” The Goat Head tilted his head slightly before turning to face him. “We are far grander than a ‘cult.’ We have a ‘world’!”

Silence fell once more.

The burly man’s question had been pointed—this Goat Head’s actions were no different from those of a cult. But most cults fabricated new deities, not legendary figures like Nuwa.

“In that case…” The burly man pressed on. “What exactly do you want us to ‘participate’ in?”

“I’ve already said—a game.” The Goat Head answered without hesitation. “If you win, one of you will become a ‘God.'”

“Rot in Hell…” The tattooed man, now calmer, muttered under his breath. “‘Investiture of the Gods,’ huh? And if we lose?”

“If you lose…” The Goat Head glanced at the blood on his hands, disappointment creeping into his voice. “That would be… unfortunate.”

Though unspoken, the implication was clear.

Lose, and you die.

There was no option for “walking away alive.”

Either become his so-called “God,” or die here like the young man whose skull had been blown apart.

“If everyone understands… then let this ‘game’ begin. This round is called ‘The Liar.'” The Goat Head slowly pulled out a stack of papers from his coat and casually placed one in front of each person.

Then he distributed pens.

The table was stained with blood, and as each sheet of white paper landed, it soaked up the red. Flipping them over and wiping them only spread the crimson further, dyeing the pages darker.

“Next, I want each of you to recount the last thing that happened before you arrived here,” the Goat Head continued. “But take note—among all the storytellers, one person will be lying. Once all nine have spoken, you will vote. If all eight correctly identify the ‘Liar,’ the Liar is eliminated, and the rest survive. But if even one vote is wrong, the Liar lives, and the rest perish.”

“The Liar…?”

The crowd exchanged uneasy glances. Would someone really lie at a time like this?

“Wait—are we allowed to discuss ‘strategy’?” the burly man suddenly asked.

“Feel free.” The Goat Head nodded. “Before the game begins, you have one minute to strategize. Would you like to use it now… or later?”

“I’ll use it now,” the burly man said decisively.

“Proceed.”

The Goat Head stepped back, distancing himself from the table.

The burly man pressed his lips together, scanning the group while deliberately avoiding the headless corpse slumped over the table. “I don’t know who among you plans to lie, but these ‘rules’ sound arbitrary. If even one person votes wrong, we all die. And even if we’re right, the Liar dies—meaning no matter what, someone dies. But I’ve thought of a way for *everyone* to survive…”

The others turned to him, intrigued.

Could such a thing really be done?

“Simple. None of us lie.” Before anyone could react, he revealed his plan. “All nine of us tell the truth, then write ‘No Liar’ on our papers. That way, we don’t break the rules, and we all walk away alive.”

The man in the white coat tapped the table lightly before speaking. “A fine plan—but it hinges on *you* not being the Liar. How can we trust you? If *you’re* the Liar, and we all write ‘No Liar,’ *you* survive while the rest of us die.”

“What kind of logic is that?” The burly man’s face darkened with anger. “If I were the Liar, why would I suggest this? I’d just save myself.”

The Goat Head raised a hand. “Time’s up. No further discussion.”

Both men scoffed and fell silent.

“Now, everyone, draw a card.” The Goat Head pulled a small stack of cards from his pocket—each the size of a playing card, with the words “Nuwa’s Game” printed on the back.

The burly man stiffened. “What’s this?”

“Your ‘role cards,'” the Goat Head laughed. “If you draw ‘The Liar,’ you *must* lie.”

The burly man gritted his teeth. “You’re toying with us?! Why didn’t you say this earlier?!”

“A lesson for you,” the Goat Head sneered. “You interrupted me to ask about strategy before I finished explaining. *You* wasted your minute—not me.”

Fury flashed across the burly man’s face, but remembering the Goat Head’s brutality, he swallowed his rage.

Within a minute, all nine had drawn a card—yet none dared look.

If the card read “The Liar,” it became a question of their life or the others’.

The four women trembled slightly, while the men’s expressions turned grim.

This wasn’t just a role—it was life or death.

Qi Xia took a deep breath, casually covering his card before sliding it toward himself.

He flipped it over.

In bold letters, it read:

**”The Liar.”**