Chapter 855: A Difficult Problem

Aries took advantage of the last moments to brief us on the relevant matters.

He pulled out a “Liar” card and placed it in front of him, then sketched a simple map with a pen before speaking:

“Zhang Qiang, I’ve hidden a human-sheep mask in the second drawer of the wardrobe in this room. Once you find it, put it on immediately and rest where you are. Someone will come to escort you to the ‘Train’ to sign the contract tonight. When the next cycle begins, you’ll be the ‘Interviewer.'”

“That’s it…?” Zhang Qiang took the card in disbelief.

“Exactly,” Aries replied. “Your path will be smoother than anyone else’s, but you’ll also see the end far too soon.”

“But that can’t be right…” Zhang Qiang blinked. “Though I do want stability, becoming a ‘Zodiac’ can’t be this easy—don’t I need training?”

“No,” Aries answered. “You’ll take on my role in the new room. Just announce the rules of the ‘Liar’ as I did—repeat what I said, word for word.”

“Huh…?” Zhang Qiang looked baffled. “You mean… I’ll be hosting the exact same game as you? And for all three games, I only need to remember the ‘Liar’ rules?”

“Right. Just memorize the ‘Liar’ rules, and I can guarantee you’ll never break them.” Aries took a slow step forward, closing the distance between them. “But there’s one crucial condition: if you lose, you must not shoot yourself in the temple. Instead, aim for your heart.”

“Why…?” Zhang Qiang froze. “If my body gains permanent ‘Brute Strength’… wouldn’t shooting myself in the heart mean I might not die instantly…?”

“You’ll die eventually,” Aries said. “Either way, you’ll die—and either way, you’ll come back. But shooting your heart is the only way to avoid breaking the rules.”

“But we’re partners now. If you don’t tell me the truth… I’ll be uneasy.” Zhang Qiang frowned. “Why *can’t* I shoot my temple?”

“It’s better if you don’t know.” Aries sighed. “For example, if I told you, ‘Because there’s writing inside the mask, so don’t damage it,’ you might—in a moment of mental instability—want to check what’s written inside, leading to a violation. So I can’t explain the reason.”

“Then…” Zhang Qiang nodded slightly. “So it’s *not* because there’s writing in my mask? Then why…?”

“Stop asking.” Aries cut him off. “Just remember—this is the first rule.”

“Fine. What’s the second one…?”

Aries stepped closer and slowly placed a hand on Zhang Qiang’s shoulder.

“The second rule: if you meet someone who resembles me, place your hand on their shoulder.” His voice was quiet. “If they respond, tell them everything I’ve just told you. If they don’t, act like nothing happened.”

“Resembles… *you*…?” Zhang Qiang’s expression twisted in confusion. He hadn’t expected things to remain so perplexing even after agreeing to Aries’ request.

“Exactly.” Aries nodded. “Again, I can’t explain further.”

Zhang Qiang lowered his head, lost in thought for a long moment, then asked, “Earlier, you said… this is a room where no one can ever ‘advance.'”

“Mhm.”

“Why…?” He looked up. “Can you tell me?”

“That, I can.” Aries nodded. “I’ll create a special room where everyone is a carefully chosen pawn. So you’ll never advance.”

Zhang Qiang exhaled deeply, his mind flooding with more questions.

Just then, Aries glanced at the clock on the table. It was almost one o’clock.

“The ‘Liar’ game is about to end,” he said. “I’ll be dead soon. Let’s leave some time for Yan Zhichun.”

He turned to me. “Do you have any questions?”

“I…” I hesitated, thinking for a few seconds. “Will I be in that room?”

“What?”

“I mean…” I rephrased. “Among the teammates you handpicked… will I be one of them?”

“No.” Aries shut it down without hesitation. “Like I said, before entering this room, I knew nothing about it—I had to gamble. So I couldn’t account for the people already here.”

“Then… how do I contact you?” I pressed.

“I can only say now isn’t the time.” He sighed. “But don’t worry. One day, I’ll find a way for you to reach me.”

“But… what should I do until then?”

I was lost. My goal was to grow stronger, but if I couldn’t connect with Aries, how was I supposed to improve?

“I’ll give you a problem to solve,” he said. “When we meet again, tell me your answer.”

“A problem…?”

“Right.” He thought for a moment. “First, I need a way to fill the people here with despair—to drastically increase the odds of an ‘Echo.’ The stronger they are, the more despair they should feel. Second, I need to stop *everyone* from collecting 3,600 ‘Tao.’ If anyone tries, you must prevent it at all costs. Third, I need powerful, trustworthy ‘Echoers’ to serve my purpose.”

“That’s not *one* problem…” My eyes flickered. “That’s *three*.”

“Then it’s up to you how to solve them.” A faint smirk tugged at his lips. “But don’t worry too much. Even if you fail, our deal stands when we meet outside—I’ll still share what I can.”

I understood. “What I can” really meant, *If you don’t solve this, I’ll keep you safe, but that’s it.*

Fortunately, though Aries was cold, his words were polished enough to sound palatable. The wise and the foolish would interpret them differently and make different choices.

By his logic, if I solved this problem—and solved it well—I’d gain far more than just “information.”

“I understand.” I nodded. “I’ll do my best.”

Aries wrapped up with a few more instructions before ending the conversation.

The sheep dragged the Shar-Pei’s corpse to a corner, waiting for the harpoon, while Aries stood silently outside, ready to be impaled.

Little did I know, the next time I’d see Aries would be five years later—seven years ago from today.