"I..."

The man in the white coat seemed much calmer than everyone else, even though the corpse on the table in front of them didn’t faze him. "My name is Zhao Haibo. I’m a doctor, as you can probably tell from my attire."

He tugged at his dirty, blood-stained white coat and continued:

"Before I ended up here, I was performing surgery on a woman. She had a rapidly growing tumor in her brain’s ventricles—a condition that had worsened over the past six months, causing minor hydrocephalus. Without immediate cranial surgery, her life was at serious risk."

"I opted for a frontal lobe approach, using CT imaging to directly puncture into the ventricles. This kind of surgery is always high-risk, but the woman chose to face it bravely so she could stay alive for her young son."

"Normally, surgery rooms are kept stable—even a slight breeze is unacceptable. But no one predicted something far more disruptive than wind."

"When the earthquake struck, I had just removed the woman’s skull and was cutting into the dura mater. Any mistake at this stage could cause severe brain trauma, leading to catastrophic consequences."

"I made an immediate decision to stop the surgery and temporarily replace the skull. If I didn’t, the dust and debris in the air would likely have killed her."

"But it turned out to be far harder than I expected. I couldn’t even stand steadily—how could I possibly reposition a small piece of skull with precision?"

"The nurse beside me bumped into me, throwing me off balance. Everyone was struggling to stand. In the chaos, I could only cover the woman’s head with a sterile sheet before turning around to organize an evacuation. But just then, a medical cart slammed into my leg, and I fell to the ground."

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

After hearing the doctor’s story, everyone’s expressions were uneasy.

He had used a lot of medical terminology.

If even one of those terms had been fabricated, no one here would be able to tell.

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

"I don’t feel obligated to answer that," Dr. Zhao replied. "I’ve already told my story."

The muscular man opened his mouth to say something but ultimately stayed silent.

"I-Is it my turn now?" A bespectacled young man, his eyes darting nervously, spoke up. "My name is Han Yimo, and I’m—"

"Wait."

The Goathead interrupted Han Yimo’s statement.

Han Yimo flinched, startled. He turned his head in confusion. "W-What is it?"

"It’s intermission time," Goathead chuckled awkwardly. "We’ll take a twenty-minute break now."

Everyone looked at each other in confusion.

A break? At a time like this?

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

"So this break is mandatory," Qi Xia thought to himself. "At the thirty-minute mark, no matter who is speaking, there will be a twenty-minute break..."

However, considering that the "game" had been going on for only thirty minutes, taking a twenty-minute break now seemed absurd.

Qi Xia frowned. He understood this wasn’t something he needed to dwell on.

The person hosting this game was clearly a lunatic. It was pointless to approach this situation with normal reasoning.

He could only mentally prepare himself, repeating the same phrase over and over:

"My name is Li Ming. I’m from Shandong."

He needed to drill these words into his head, so that when it was his turn to speak, they would come out naturally.

Everyone remained silent, waiting uncomfortably.

Although this was supposed to be "intermission," the atmosphere grew even more oppressive.

"Can we... talk during the break?" the muscular man asked Goathead.

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

The muscular man nodded and turned to Dr. Zhao. "Dr. Zhao, where are you really from?"

Dr. Zhao’s expression darkened. "You seem to have been against me from the start. Why must I tell you where I’m from?"

"Don’t misunderstand me. I mean no harm," the muscular man responded calmly. "The more you tell us, the more credible your story becomes. Since everyone else has shared their hometowns, there’s no reason for you to withhold yours."

"The more I say, the more credible it becomes?" Dr. Zhao shook his head dismissively. "I only know that ‘the more you say, the more mistakes you make.’ If the rules are absolute, then my story is sufficient as it is. Besides, I don’t trust any of you."

"That’s a bit unfair," the muscular man said. "There are nine of us here, and only one of us is the enemy. If you’re willing to cooperate with the group, we can work together to identify the liar. By staying secretive, you’re just making yourself look suspicious. This is the second time I’m asking: will you keep hiding the truth?"

The muscular man was clearly skilled at interrogation. With only a few words, he had backed Dr. Zhao into a logical corner.

His meaning was clear: only the liar wouldn’t need to trust anyone, since they already knew their own identity.

If Dr. Zhao continued to withhold information, he would only make himself a bigger target.

But as a neurosurgeon, Dr. Zhao was no ordinary man. He scoffed coldly and countered: "Then let me ask you first: who are you? What do you do?"

"Me?" The muscular man hadn’t expected the doctor to turn the tables on him, and his expression stiffened.

"That’s right. Since you’ve been badgering me after my story, I think it’s only fair that I ask you before you tell yours," Dr. Zhao said with a slight smile. "Fair, isn’t it?"

The muscular man thought for a moment, then nodded. "You’re right. I have nothing to hide. My name is Li Shangwu, and I’m a criminal investigator."

At his words, everyone turned to look at him.

At a time like this, the words "criminal investigator" brought an unexpected sense of security to the group.

"You’re a police officer?!" Dr. Zhao was momentarily stunned.

No wonder this man had been probing and asking questions from the beginning. He was also the first person to suggest trying to save everyone. It was possible he genuinely wanted to lead them out safely.

Dr. Zhao’s attitude noticeably softened. "If that’s the case, I apologize for my earlier behavior. I’m from Jiangsu."

At this point, the tattooed man, Qiao Jiajin, spoke up with a grim expression: "So, Dr. Zhao, you’re willing to trust this Officer Li?"

"Hmm?" Dr. Zhao looked at Qiao Jiajin, puzzled. "What are you trying to say?"

Qiao Jiajin tapped his finger on the table and said flatly: "It’s not ‘story time’ right now. In other words... anyone can lie during this break."

[--------------------------------------------]

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