Chapter 5: The Doctor
1187 Words
“I…” The man in the white coat appeared calmer than the others; even the corpse on the table didn’t seem to affect him. “My name is Zhao Haibo, and I’m a doctor. You should be able to tell from my attire.”
He tugged at his dirty lab coat and continued, “Before I came here, I was performing surgery on a woman. She had an intraventricular tumor that had been growing rapidly for the past six months, causing mild hydrocephalus. If we didn’t perform a craniotomy soon, it could be life-threatening.
“I chose to operate through the frontal lobe, directly puncturing the ventricle under CT guidance. Such surgeries come with significant risks, but that woman chose to take the chance so she could stay with her young son for a while longer.”
“Typically, operating rooms must maintain a stable environment—no breeze allowed. But no one expected something worse than wind to come.”
“When the earthquake hit, I had just removed the woman’s skull and was cutting the dura mater. If anything went wrong at this stage, it could easily lead to brain contusions with devastating consequences.”
“I made a snap decision to terminate the surgery and cover her skull back up. Otherwise, in this dusty environment, her life would be at risk.”
“But I didn’t expect that step to be harder than I imagined. I couldn’t stand steadily, so how could I accurately place a small piece of skull back on?”
“The nurse beside me bumped into me, and everyone was struggling to maintain their balance. In the chaos, I could only cover the woman’s head with a sterile sheet, then immediately turn to instruct everyone to evacuate. At that moment, a medical cart hit my leg, and I fell to the ground.”
“Before I could stand up again, the operating room ceiling cracked, and I immediately lost consciousness.”
After listening to the doctor’s account, everyone’s expressions turned uneasy.
He had used many medical terms in his story. If any of those words were fabricated, no one would be able to identify them.
“Dr. Zhao, where are you from?” the muscular man asked casually.
“I don’t feel obligated to answer your questions,” Dr. Zhao replied. “My story is finished.”
The muscular man opened his mouth but didn’t say anything.
“Is it my turn now?” A boy wearing glasses, his eyes flickering, said, “My name is Han Yimo, and I’m a…”
“Wait.” The Goat Mask suddenly interrupted Han Yimo.
Startled, Han Yimo turned to him, confused. “W-What’s wrong?”
“It’s ‘halftime’ now,” the Goat Mask said with a chuckle. “Let’s take a break for twenty minutes.”
Everyone was taken aback.
There’s a “halftime” at a time like this?
Zachary 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,” Zachary thought. “At 12:30, no matter who the storyteller is, there will be a mandatory twenty-minute break…”
But the game had only been going for thirty minutes, and now they were taking a break for twenty minutes?
Zachary frowned. He knew this wasn’t something he needed to dwell on. The organizer of this game was clearly insane; there was no need to think with common logic.
He could only repeatedly remind himself, “My name is Li Ming, and I’m from Shandong.”
Only by drilling that line into his mind would he be able to say it effortlessly when it was his turn to speak.
Everyone sat in uncomfortable silence, waiting.
Though they called it a “halftime,” the atmosphere felt even more oppressive.
“Excuse me… can we talk?” the muscular man asked the Goat Mask.
“Oh, of course, you’re free to talk now. I have no authority to interfere.”
The muscular man nodded and turned to Dr. Zhao. “Dr. Zhao, where are you really from?”
Dr. Zhao’s expression darkened. “I say, you seem to have had a problem with me from the start. Why should I have to tell you where I’m from?”
“Don’t get me wrong; I mean no harm,” the muscular man replied steadily. “The more you tell us, the more credible you become. Since everyone has shared their hometowns, there’s no need for you to hide, right?”
“The more you say, the more credible it is?” Dr. Zhao shook his head noncommittally. “I only know that ‘the more you say, the more you err.’ If the rules are absolute, then my account poses no issue. Moreover, I don’t trust any of you.”
“That’s somewhat biased,” the muscular man said. “There are nine people present, and only one is the enemy. If you’re willing to cooperate, we can work together to unearth the Liar. The more you hide, the more suspicious you become. This is the second time I’ve asked you. Are you still going to hide?”
The muscular man appeared quite adept at interrogation, cornering Dr. Zhao into a logical trap with just a few words. His meaning was clear: only the Liar would feel the need to distrust others, after all, they knew their own identity.
If Dr. Zhao continued to conceal information, he would draw all suspicion.
But a neurosurgeon wouldn’t be an ordinary person. He snorted coldly and asked, “Then you answer me: who are you? What do you do?”
“Me?” The muscular man hadn’t expected Dr. Zhao to turn the tables. His expression shifted slightly.
“Exactly. Since you relentlessly questioned me after I spoke, I can ask you a question before you tell your story,” Dr. Zhao said with a smile. “Fair, right?”
The muscular man pondered for a moment, then nodded. “You’re right; I have nothing to hide. My name is Li Shangwu, and I’m a criminal police officer.”
As soon as the words left his mouth, everyone turned to look at him.
At that moment, the title “criminal police officer” gave everyone an unexpected sense of security.
“You’re a cop?!” Dr. Zhao was momentarily taken aback.
No wonder this man had been probing from the start. He was the first to suggest “everyone should survive.” Perhaps he genuinely wanted to help everyone escape.
Dr. Zhao’s attitude visibly softened. “If that’s the case, then I apologize for my earlier demeanor. I’m from Jiangsu.”
At this moment, Jason, the tattooed man, looked a bit unhappy. “I say, Dr. Zhao, do you really trust this Officer Li?”
“Hmm?” Dr. Zhao glanced at Jason, puzzled. “What are you getting at?”
Jason tapped the table lightly and said flatly, “It’s not ‘story time’ anymore. In other words… everyone can lie now.”
- Writer
