Chapter 10: Is It Really Over?

The silence stretched for several minutes as everyone tried to accept the unbelievable reality.  After a few moments, Jacob was the first to flip over his badge, which read "Liar." The others turned over their cards, each showing the word "Liar." "You're quite impressive..." Cheryl gave Ken an approving glance. "But how did you realize we were already dead?" Ken pointed to his notepad. "It wasn't difficult. I kept wondering why the room was sealed. Why are there lines on the walls and floor? Why is there a clock placed in the center of the table? And why does Satyr force us to take an 'intermission'?" "A typical person uses up air at a rate of 0.007 cubic meters per minute, which equals 0.42 cubic meters per hour. With ten people in this room, the hourly air consumption would be 4.2 cubic meters." "According to Satyr, we slept in this room for 12 hours and played the game for nearly an hour. If you multiply 4.2 cubic meters by 13, you get '54.6'." Ken circled '54.6' on his notepad and said, "That's the amount of air we should have used."  He glanced around the room, adding, "But how many cubic meters does this room actually hold?" Everyone followed his gaze. "The hosts left us clues; they drew lines on the walls and floor, dividing them into squares, each with sides about one meter long." Ken pointed to the marks on the walls. "The wall has squares in a three-by-four grid, and the floor and ceiling are four by 4. So the room's dimensions are 4 by four by 3, totaling 48 cubic meters." "And how can a 48 cubic meter room hold 54.6 cubic meters of air?" Ken frowned, looking grim. "By now, the air should be running thin, yet we don't feel short of breath." Zeus thought momentarily, then picked up Ken's notepad and pointed to the "49.14" written on it. "And what does this number mean?" Ken looked at him intently and replied, "That's also the air required, but calculated for 'nine people.'" "Nine people?" Zeus was puzzled. Ten people were in the room consuming air, so why calculate for 'nine'? "I made a bold assumption," Ken said, his face expressionless. "What if Satyr isn't human'? Would we have enough air? Obviously not." "What kind of madness is this?" Zeus muttered, "To make such a bizarre assumption?" "Is it that hard to understand?" Ken pointed to the headless corpse beside him. "Dr. Zimmerman, you should know about skulls. Can a human break a skull with one hand?" Zeus remained silent, aware that it was utterly impossible. Breaking even a rabbit's skull with a single hand on a table would be daunting. Ken withdrew his gaze and addressed the group, "Time is running out. I've written down my choice. Now it's up to you, but remember, if even one person's answer differs from mine, we all face 'punishment.'" The group hesitated, intimidated. A monster capable of killing them at will was now to be "voted out" by them. Would it accept this? Jonah glanced sideways at Satyr, who stayed motionless, its deep eyes concealed behind the goat mask, pondering something unknown. "Damn it, let's just go for it!" Jonah declared with a flourish, writing down "Satyr." After hesitating, everyone followed suit, writing the same answer. Ken surveyed the room, noting the uniformity—everyone had written Satyr's name. The clock struck one, marking the end of the game. Satyr slowly approached, saying, "Congratulations, you've survived the 'Liar' game. Now, I shall personally 'punish' the loser." Before anyone could react, Satyr pulled out a handgun from its coat, turned the muzzle toward its own heart, and pulled the trigger. An unimaginable bang echoed through the cramped room. The sound lingered, leaving everyone slightly deafened. Soon after, Satyr clutched its chest and began to scream. The piercing cries quickly drowned out the gun's echo, filling the room with a chilling resonance. Blood gushed from its mouth as Satyr continued to wail, the cries gradually fading into painful moans after more than a minute. "What... what's going on..." Jonah stared blankly at Satyr. "Is it for real?" A few minutes later, even the moans ceased. The nine remaining people suddenly realized they could move their legs. Zeus stood first, approached Satyr, and checked its neck for a pulse, finding none. "Hey!" Zeus shouted at Satyr. The game is over. How do we get out?!" But a silent corpse offered no answers. The others slowly got to their feet. The room stayed unchanged, except for the addition of a corpse. "This is strange... Are we really dead?" Kourtney seemed grappling with the question, slapping her cheek hard. "Ouch!" she yelped. "It still hurts. How can I feel pain if I'm dead?" Jonah shook his head helplessly. "What, have you died before?" "I..." Kourtney paused, "I guess not..." "So who knows what happens after death? For all we know, this might be hell," Jonah said, glancing uneasily at the two corpses in the room. "I can still feel pain and catch a whiff of the stench." "So what are we? Spirits?" asked Finn. Zeus checked himself and found his heartbeat, body temperature, and pulse all normal. He was breathing yet not consuming oxygen. Death seemed a mysterious thing beyond medical explanation. "Whatever we are, I don't want to be stuck in this tiny room for eternity," Jacob declared, "Let's find a way out." He walked over to Satyr, picking up the gun lying beside it. The sudden action startled everyone, who instinctively backed away. The man expertly checked the chamber and ejected the magazine, finding only one bullet had been fired. Now, the gun was empty. This was both good and bad news. The good news was that there was no longer a threat of someone using a gun to harm others; the bad news was that they had no means to defend themselves against any future dangers. Displaying his boldness, Jonah reached out and took off Satyr's mask, revealing a face that was completely decomposed. Its eyes were rolled back, devoid of life. "What a horrifying face." Cheryl echoed from the side.