Chapter 6: The Officer

"Quit trying to stir things up," Jacob said, glaring sternly at Jonah. "You're a loan shark, and I'm a cop. Who do you think folks are gonna trust?" Ken glanced at the arguing crowd, knowing Jacob wasn't lying—he really was a detective. Yet, his approach was misguided. Maybe it was his cop instincts or a sense of justice that drove him to try to organize everyone. The break was more than halfway over, and the room started to quiet down.  During this time, Ken silently repeated, "My name is Liam Lynch," so many times that he was starting to annoy himself. After all, the broken corpse lying next to him made it hard to stay calm.  Blood dripped steadily from the table to the floor, and the group had been stuck with the body for nearly an hour as a strange smell started to fill the air. Ken glanced casually at the corpse next to him, his pants already filthy.  After death, a body's organs lose muscle control, causing incontinence. A nasty odor already hit them before the smell of decay kicked in.  Ken and another girl sat on either side of the body. The girl was visibly displeased, covering her mouth and nose. Another ten minutes passed before Satyr finally said, "The twenty-minute break is over. The game is back on." Finn took a deep breath to steady himself and said, "I'm Finn Halenkamp, an online novelist. Before coming here, I was at my rented apartment, writing the conclusion of a novel. Since it features over a hundred characters, they almost all appear in the final chapter, so I was deeply engrossed and didn't hear anything outside." "Honestly, I don't even know when the earthquake happened or when I lost consciousness." Finn's story was unlike the others. He seemed entirely "independent," and his tale ended abruptly after just a few sentences. "Is that it?" The muscular man was slightly taken aback. "You're just going to say 'I don't know' and leave it at that?" "Since I can't lie, I have no reason to fabricate an answer to appease everyone," Finn said in a soft yet inexplicably convincing voice. "Alright... next, please." Jacob, still skeptical, spoke again, "It's the lady's turn." "Hey, cop," Jonah was dissatisfied with Jacob's attitude. "We're all participants here, so don't act like you're in charge." "Someone has to organize us, right?" Jacob retorted, "As I said, only one is the enemy among us. The remaining eight must unite." "But you're not the one to command us." Jonah dismissed his words entirely. "Outside, I might fear you, but in this situation, who knows if you're the liar?" "Gentlemen, please stop arguing," a cold woman interjected. From the beginning, she had accused Satyr of holding them captive for twenty-four hours. She seemed logical and very composed. Seeing the two calm down, she continued, "In this so-called 'game,' regardless of who wins; the others might be seen as 'indirect murderers.' After all, our collective vote will lead to the lunatic to kill them. That's what you should be considering." Hearing this, Ken's expression shifted slightly. If he truly walked out of this room alive, he would indeed have 'killed' the other eight. But what choice did he have? The card before him gave him the identity of a liar. Who would willingly give up their life for others? "My name is Cheryl Chapman, and I'm a lawyer," the cold woman said, arms crossed, expressionless. "It's unfortunate to meet under such bizarre circumstances; otherwise, I'd have handed out my business card." The group didn't quite grasp her humor, but she didn't seem to care.  "Before coming here, I was organizing court materials. My client was swindled out of twenty million dollars. It was a significant and severe case." When she mentioned "twenty million," the group remained stoic, but Jonah was visibly shocked and asked, "Twenty million?" "Yes, twenty million. They say lawyers are impartial, but we have our biases. That man took a high-interest loan to support his family, which is concerning. But illegal lending is another case and not my concern." "When the earthquake hit, I was driving on Verdant Avenue to meet my client, just past the Thatched Cottage, near the Wilken Shrine. I remember... I wasn't driving fast, about thirty miles per hour, when I saw the ground ahead cracking." "I braked immediately, stopping just before the fissure, but didn't expect the car behind to fail to avoid it, leading to a chain collision." "I only heard several loud crashes, and my car was pushed into the fissure, after which I lost consciousness and ended up here." Another story concluded with only three people left to speak. "Wilken Shrine?" Zeus pondered, "Is it the one in Nivile?" "Yes, I work there." It seemed this earthquake had affected the entire nation. With only these fragmented stories, guessing who was lying was incredibly challenging. "Now it's my turn." Jacob looked around. "I've already mentioned my name. I'm Jacob Lowe, a detective from Nonsville." "Before arriving here, I was staking out a fraudster. According to reliable information, we had pinpointed the suspect's exact location." "This suspect had swindled a huge amount, up to twenty million dollars, marking the largest fraud case reported in my city this year." "My colleague and I were in the car, keeping a close watch, just waiting for the suspect to appear." "But the suspect was craftier than we anticipated. It seemed he sensed danger and didn't show up for three days." "During those three days, we ate, drank, and did everything in the car, our nerves on the brink of collapse." "But do you know what's worse for a grown man than having no food or drink?" "Having no cigarettes." "We didn't have a single cigarette left. We couldn't leave our post by protocol, but the lack of cigarettes was agonizing." "So, I sent my colleague to buy cigarettes while I closely watched the suspect's residence." "Unexpectedly, the entire ground began to shake violently shortly after my colleague left. I intended to get out of the car to see what was happening, but suddenly, someone strangled me with a thin wire from behind." "Although we're skilled in close combat, handling a wire from the back seat was difficult. I couldn't reach the person behind or remove the wire from my neck." The group looked at Jacob, noticing a red mark on his neck. "I quickly reclined the seat to breathe again but couldn't turn around. My tall stature trapped my legs under the steering wheel." "The person behind took advantage of my reclining position and struck my head with something hard, rendering me unconscious." After hearing his account, suspicions arose among the group. He described a situation entirely different from the others; all other participants were unconscious due to accidents. Only he was attacked and ended up here. If they had to choose the most suspicious person among them, it would undoubtedly be him.