“I…” The man in the white coat appeared calmer than the others, seemingly unaffected even by the corpse on the table. “My name is Zhao Haibo, and I’m a doctor. You should be able to tell that from my attire.”
He tugged at his dirty white coat and continued, “Before I came here, I was performing surgery on a woman. She had an intraventricular tumor that was growing rapidly, expanding over the past six months and causing mild hydrocephalus. Without immediate cranial surgery, her life would be at risk.”
“I chose a frontal lobe approach, directly puncturing into the ventricle under CT guidance. This type of surgery always carries significant risks, but the woman chose to take the chance to stay with her young son for as long as possible.”
“Normally, operating rooms are kept completely stable—not even a breeze is allowed. But no one expected something far worse than a breeze to arrive.”
“When the earthquake hit, I had just removed the woman’s skull and was cutting the dura mater. Any mistake at this stage could easily cause brain contusion and leave devastating aftereffects.”
“I made the snap decision to abort the surgery and temporarily replace her skull. Otherwise, in the midst of all the dust and debris, her life would be in grave danger.”
“But I didn’t anticipate how much harder this would be. I could barely stand steady—how was I supposed to accurately reposition a small piece of skull?”
“The nurses around me were stumbling into me, and no one could keep their balance. In the chaos, I could only cover the woman’s head with a sterile sheet before turning to organize an evacuation. That’s when a medical cart crashed into my leg, and I fell to the ground.”
“Before I could get up, the ceiling of the operating room cracked, and I lost consciousness.”
The others listened to the doctor’s story, their expressions uneasy.
His account was filled with medical terminology.
If even one of those terms was made up, no one would be able to tell.
“Dr. Zhao, where are you from?” the burly man asked casually.
“I don’t feel obligated to answer,” Dr. Zhao replied. “I’ve already told my story.”
The burly man opened his mouth but said nothing.
“Is… is it my turn now?” A bespectacled young man hesitated before speaking. “My name is Han Yimo, and I’m a…”
“Wait.” The goat-headed man suddenly interrupted.
Han Yimo jumped, turning to look at him in confusion.
“Wh-what’s wrong?”
“It’s ‘intermission time,’” the goat-head said with an awkward smile. “We’ll take a twenty-minute break.”
The group was at a loss.
An “intermission” at a time like this?
Qi Xia glanced at the clock in the center of the table. Half an hour had passed since they woke up.
It was now 12:30.
“So this ‘break’ is mandatory,” Qi Xia thought to himself. “At 12:30, no matter who’s speaking, the game forces a twenty-minute pause…”
But the game had only been going for thirty minutes. Now they had to waste twenty on a break?
Qi Xia frowned. He knew this wasn’t something he needed to dwell on.
The host of this game was clearly a madman—no point applying normal logic.
So he could only repeat one thing to himself, over and over.
“My name is Li Ming, from Shandong.”
Only by drilling this line into his mind could he recite it flawlessly when his turn came.
The others waited in uneasy silence.
Despite the “intermission,” the atmosphere grew even heavier.
“Excuse me… are we allowed to talk?” the burly man asked the goat-head.
“Oh, of course. You’re free to do as you please now. I won’t interfere.”
The burly man nodded, then turned back to Dr. Zhao. “Dr. Zhao, where are you really from?”
Dr. Zhao’s expression darkened. “You seem to have had a problem with me from the start. Why must I tell you where I’m from?”
“Don’t misunderstand. I mean no harm,” the burly man said calmly. “The more you share, the more credible you become. Since everyone else has mentioned their hometown, why hide yours?”
“The more I share, the more credible?” Dr. Zhao shook his head dismissively. “I only know that ‘the more you say, the more mistakes you make.’ If the rules are absolute, my story stands without issue. Besides, I don’t trust any of you.”
“That’s a bit extreme,” the burly man countered. “There are nine of us here, and only one is the enemy. If you cooperate, we can work together to expose the liar. The more you hide, the more suspicious you become. This is my second time asking—will you still refuse?”
The burly man was clearly skilled at interrogation, cornering Dr. Zhao with just a few words.
His point was clear.
Only the “liar” wouldn’t trust others—because he already knew his own identity.
If Dr. Zhao kept hiding, he’d only paint a target on his back.
But a neurosurgeon was no pushover either. With a cold snort, Dr. Zhao shot back, “Then answer me first—who are you? What do you do?”
“Me?” The burly man seemed caught off guard by the counterattack, his expression faltering.
“Exactly. Since you’re pressing me after my turn, it’s only fair I ask you before yours,” Dr. Zhao said with a smirk. “Fair, isn’t it?”
The burly man thought for a moment, then nodded. “Fair enough. I have nothing to hide. My name is Li Shangwu, and I’m a police detective.”
The moment he said it, the entire group turned to look at him.
At a time like this, the word “detective” carried an unexpected sense of security.
“You’re a cop?!” Dr. Zhao was stunned.
No wonder the man had been probing from the start—he was also the first to suggest “getting everyone out alive.” Maybe he really was trying to save them all.
Dr. Zhao’s attitude visibly softened. “In that case, I apologize for earlier. I’m from Jiangsu.”
The tattooed man, Qiao Jiajin, suddenly looked uneasy. “Hey, Doc, you’re just gonna trust this ‘Detective Li’?”
“Hm?” Dr. Zhao glanced at him, puzzled. “What are you getting at?”
Qiao Jiajin tapped the table lightly and said coolly, “This isn’t ‘storytime’ right now. In other words… everyone can lie.”
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