suspenseful reincarnation

Everyone's identity

"I..." The man in the white coat seemed calmer than the others, unfazed even by the corpse on the table. "My name is Michael. I am a doctor, as you can probably tell from my attire."

He tugged at his dirty white coat and continued, "Before coming here, I was doing surgery on a woman with a rapidly growing intraventricular tumor. The tumor had been increasing in size for the past six months, causing slight hydrocephalus. Without immediate cranial surgery, her life was at risk."

"I opted for a frontal approach, directly puncturing the ventricle under CT guidance. Such a procedure always carries significant risks, but the woman chose to take the chance to stay with her young son."

"Typically, the operating room must remain perfectly stable, without even a breeze. But none of us anticipated something far worse."

"When the earthquake struck, I had just removed the woman’s skull and was cutting the dura mater. A mistake at this stage could easily lead to brain contusions and devastating sequelae."

"I immediately decided to halt the surgery and place the skull back temporarily. In the dusty environment, her life would have been in grave danger otherwise."

"However, this task proved more challenging than I expected. I couldn’t even stand steady, let alone precisely reposition a small piece of bone."

"The nurse beside me stumbled onto me, and everyone struggled to maintain their balance. In the chaos, I could only cover the woman's head with a sterile drape before organizing an evacuation. But then, a medical cart struck my leg, and I fell."

"Before I could get back up, the ceiling of the operating room cracked open, and I lost consciousness."

As the doctor finished his account, the others looked uneasy. His story was laden with medical terminology, making it impossible to tell if even one term was fabricated.

"Michael, where are you from?" the muscular man asked casually.

"I don't see why I should answer your questions," Michael replied. "I've told my story."

The muscular man opened his mouth but said nothing.

"Is it... is it my turn?" A bespectacled young man nervously glanced around. "My name is Matthew, and I..."

"Wait," the goat-headed figure interrupted Matthew.

Startled, Matthew turned around, bewildered. "Wh-what’s wrong?"

"It’s time for a 'mid-session break,'" the goat-headed figure announced with a sly smile. "We will now rest for twenty minutes."

Everyone was taken aback. A break at such a time?

Enzo glanced at the clock in the center of the table. It had been half an hour since they woke up. It was now 12:30.

"So this break is mandatory," Enzo thought. "At 12:30, no matter who is speaking, there’s a forced twenty-minute break..."

The game had only been going for thirty minutes, and now they had to rest for twenty? Enzo frowned, realizing this wasn’t something he could control. The game’s organizer was clearly insane, and there was no point in applying normal logic.

He repeatedly reminded himself of his identity. "I am Li Ming, from las Vegas.

." He had to engrain this statement in his mind to ensure he could say it effortlessly when his turn came.

Everyone waited quietly, looking troubled. Although it was called a 'break,' the atmosphere grew even tenser.

"May we talk?" the muscular man asked the goat-headed figure.

"Oh, of course, this is your free time. I won’t interfere."

The muscular man nodded and turned to Michael. "Michael, where exactly are you from?"

Michael's expression darkened. "You seem to have had a problem with me from the start. Why should I tell you where I'm from?"

"Don't misunderstand me. I mean no harm," the muscular man said steadily. "The more you share, the stronger the credibility. Since everyone else has mentioned their hometown, why hide yours?"

"The more I share, the more credible? I only know that 'the more you say, the more mistakes you make.' If the rules are absolute, my story has no issues. Besides, I don’t trust any of you."

"That's a bit extreme," the muscular man replied. "There are nine of us here, and only one is the enemy. If you cooperate, we can work together to identify the liar. The more you hide, the more suspicious you become. This is my second time asking you. Will you keep hiding?"

The muscular man’s skill in interrogation was obvious, cornering Michael with a few words. His implication was clear: only the 'liar' wouldn’t need to trust others, as they knew their own identity.

If the doctor continued to withhold information, he would draw everyone’s suspicion. But a neurosurgeon wasn’t easily bested. Michael retorted, "Then answer me first. Who are you, and what do you do?"

"Me?" The muscular man was caught off guard, his expression momentarily uneasy.

"Yes, since you insist on questioning me after my story, I can ask you before yours," Michael smiled. "Fair enough?"

After a moment of thought, the muscular man nodded. "You’re right. I have nothing to hide. My name is Joshua , and I’m a detective."

His declaration drew everyone’s attention. At this moment, the word 'detective' offered an unexpected sense of security.

"You’re a police officer?!" Michael was taken aback.

No wonder this man had been probing for information from the start. He was also the first to propose saving everyone. Maybe he genuinely wanted to rescue them.

Michael's attitude softened considerably. "If that’s the case, I apologize for my earlier attitude. I’m from Oklahoma."

At this, the tattooed man, Jacob, looked displeased. "So, Michael, you trust this Detective ?"

"Hmm?" Michael glanced at Jacob, confused. "What are you implying?"

Jacob tapped the table with his finger and said calmly, "It’s not 'storytime' now. In other words, anyone can lie."