Chapter 2: The Liar
1374 Words
The woman’s scream ceased, and everyone’s thoughts came to an abrupt halt. The men who had been shouting and cursing moments ago also fell silent. It was no longer a matter of “illegality”; this strange man before them was truly willing to kill.
A full minute of silence passed before the man wearing the goat mask gave a slight nod, “Good. It seems all nine of you have quieted down.”
Faces turned pale, but no one dared to speak. Just as he said, there were indeed “nine” of them now.
With a trembling hand, Zachary wiped a piece of pinkish-yellow matter from his face. The shattered piece of brain tissue was still warm, faintly pulsing. But after a few seconds, it went limp, lifeless as a deflated balloon.
“Now, allow me to introduce myself...” The man lifted a blood-stained finger, pointing to his mask. “I am the ‘Human Goat,’ and you are the ‘Participants.’”
Everyone was stunned, then confused—“Human Goat,” “Participants”?
“I’ve gathered you here to take part in a game to ultimately create a ‘God,’” the man in the goat mask said in a calm tone.
These words made everyone frown. By now, they had come to understand that the man before them was insane, but this madman was claiming he intended to create a “God”?
“What... what kind of god?” asked a muscular young man, his voice tinged with nervousness.
“A god like ‘Nuwa’!” the Goat Mask exclaimed, gesturing excitedly. A strange musk wafted from him, and his voice took on a sinister edge. “How marvelous! You shall witness history with me. Nuwa once created humanity and turned into a rainbow when she mended the heavens… We must not lose Nuwa, so we shall create a new Nuwa! A divine task awaits this ‘God’!”
His voice rose in pitch, as if invigorated.
“Nuwa…” The muscular young man furrowed his brow. He could hardly accept what he was hearing. Pausing, he asked, “Are you part of some kind of religion?”
“Religion?” The man in the goat mask seemed taken aback. He turned to the young man and replied, “We are far grander than a ‘religion.’ We possess an entire ‘world’!”
Hearing this, everyone fell into a thoughtful silence. The muscular man’s question had hit the mark. This Goat Mask character acted much like a cultist, but unlike typical cults, he wasn’t inventing a new god; he was referencing Nuwa, a legendary figure.
“If that’s the case…” the muscular man pressed on, “what exactly do you want us to ‘participate’ in?”
“I’ve already told you—it’s just a game,” the Goat Mask replied without hesitation. “If you win, one among you shall become the ‘God.’”
“Damn it…” muttered the tattooed man, who seemed to have calmed down somewhat. “So, it’s like the ‘Investiture of the Gods,’ huh? But what if we lose?”
“If you lose…” The man in the goat mask glanced at the blood on his hand, a hint of disappointment in his voice. “If you lose, well… that’s too bad.”
He didn’t spell it out, but everyone understood what he meant. If they failed, they would die.
There was no “way out” of this game. Either one of them would emerge as his so-called “God,” or they would all end up like the young man who had just been killed.
“If everyone understands…” The Goat Mask continued, “then let the game officially begin. This first game is called ‘The Liar.’” Reaching into his coat, he drew out a stack of paper and casually handed a sheet to each person.
He then pulled out a few pens and distributed them as well.
Bloodstains were visible on the table, and as each piece of white paper was placed down, it was quickly smeared with red. When they turned the sheets over and wiped their hands, the blood spread like paint, making the paper even redder.
“Next, I’ll need each of you to recount the last thing that happened before you arrived here,” the Goat Mask explained. “But be careful: among those telling their stories, one person is lying. Once all nine of you have shared, you will cast your votes. If all eight identify the ‘Liar,’ the Liar is eliminated, and the rest survive. But if even one of you votes incorrectly, the Liar survives, and everyone else is eliminated.”
“The Liar…?”
Everyone seemed perplexed. Would someone really lie at a life-and-death moment like this?
“Wait, can we strategize?” the muscular man suddenly asked.
“As you wish,” the Goat Mask nodded. “You have one minute to devise a strategy before the game begins. Do you wish to use it now… or later?”
“Now,” the muscular man replied without hesitation.
“Very well.”
The Goat Mask stepped back, distancing himself from the table.
The muscular man pursed his lips, glancing around at everyone, carefully avoiding the decapitated corpse slumped on the table, before speaking, “I don’t know if any of you will lie later, but this ‘rule’ seems far too arbitrary. If even one person votes incorrectly, we all die. And even if we choose correctly, the Liar dies. Either way, someone dies. But I’ve thought of a way we can all survive…”
Everyone turned to the muscular man, intrigued by his words. Was it really possible for everyone to survive?
“That is… if none of us lie.” He didn’t wait for them to understand before he revealed his plan. “If all nine of us tell the truth, and we write ‘No one is lying’ on these sheets, then we don’t break any rules, and we can all…”
The man in the white coat tapped the table lightly with his fingers, then spoke, “Your plan sounds reasonable, but there’s a condition: ‘you yourself are not the Liar.’ But how are we supposed to trust you? If you’re the Liar, then we’ll end up accusing ‘no one,’ and you’ll be the only one left alive.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” The muscular man’s face grew tense. “If I were the Liar, why would I suggest such a plan? I could just look out for myself.”
The Goat Mask waved his hand dismissively, “The minute is up. Please stop discussing.”
Both men let out frustrated sighs, falling silent.
“Now, each of you, draw a card.” The Goat Mask pulled a small stack of cards from his pocket, each card the size of a playing card, with “Nuwa Game” written on the back.
The muscular man paused, asking, “What are these?”
“These are ‘identity cards,’” the Goat Mask laughed. “If you draw the ‘Liar’ card, you must lie.”
The muscular man clenched his teeth. “Are you kidding us?! Why didn’t you mention this rule earlier?!”
“This is to teach you a lesson,” the Goat Mask replied coldly. “You asked to strategize before I had finished explaining the rules. You wasted your minute, not me.”
The muscular man’s face darkened, but he swallowed his anger, remembering the Goat Mask’s murderous capabilities.
Within a minute, each of the nine participants had drawn a card, but none dared to flip it over. If their card read “Liar,” it would mean choosing between their life and everyone else’s.
The hands of the four women trembled slightly, while the men’s faces were equally pale. They weren’t just drawing “identities”—they were drawing for their lives.
Zachary took a deep breath, casually placing his card in front of him. Slowly, he lifted it to his eyes.
The words on it read, “Liar.”
- Writer
