“Everyone, admit it. Including myself, all of us are already dead.”

Chapter 10 Is it over?

This time, the silence lasted for several minutes as everyone tried to accept this unbelievable fact.

After a moment, Officer Thompson was the first to flip over his identity card, and sure enough, it read “Liar.”

The others also turned over their cards one by one—all of them said “Liar.”

“You’re impressive…” Attorney Brooks gave Ashley Carter an approving look. “But how did you figure out that we were all already dead?”

Ashley Carter pointed to his scratch paper and said, “It wasn’t hard. I kept wondering: why is the room sealed? Why are there lines drawn on the walls and floor? Why is there a clock placed in the center of the table? And why did the goat-headed man force us to take a ‘halftime break’?”

“A normal person consumes about 0.007 cubic meters of air per minute, which is 0.42 cubic meters per hour. There are ten people in this room, so the hourly air consumption would be 4.2 cubic meters.”

“According to the goat-headed man, we not only slept in this room for 12 hours, but also played the game for nearly an hour. If you multiply 4.2 cubic meters by 13, you get the number ‘54.6’.”

Ashley Carter circled “54.6” on his scratch paper with a pen and said, “This is the amount of air we should have consumed.”

He looked around the room and said, “But how many cubic meters does this room actually have?”

Everyone followed his gaze.

“The organizers left us clues. They drew lines on the walls and floor, dividing them into many squares, each with a side length of about one meter.” Ashley Carter pointed to the marks on the wall. “The number of squares on the wall is 3 by 4, and the floor and ceiling are 4 by 4. So the room’s length, width, and height are 4 by 4 by 3, totaling 48 cubic meters.”

“So how can a 48-cubic-meter room hold 54.6 cubic meters of air?” Ashley Carter frowned, his expression dark. “After all this time, the air should be getting thinner, but none of us feel any symptoms of oxygen deprivation…”

Dr. Harris pondered for a moment, took Ashley Carter’s scratch paper, and pointed to the “49.14” on it. “What does this number mean?”

Ashley Carter looked very serious as he glanced at Dr. Harris and replied, “That’s also the amount of air that should be consumed, but it’s calculated for ‘nine people’.”

“Nine people?”

Dr. Harris was stunned. After all, there were clearly ten people in the room consuming air, so why calculate for nine?

“I made a bold assumption,” Ashley Carter said expressionlessly. “If the goat-headed man is ‘not human’, would our air supply be enough? Obviously, it still wouldn’t be.”

“What kind of lunatic are you?” Dr. Harris muttered. “How could you make such a bizarre assumption?”

“Is it so hard to understand?” Ashley Carter pointed to the headless corpse on his right. “Dr. Harris, you should know skulls very well. Generally speaking, can a human shatter a skull with one hand?”

Dr. Harris didn’t answer, because he knew it was absolutely impossible.

Not to mention a human skull—even a rabbit’s skull would be hard to crush single-handedly on a table.

Ashley Carter withdrew his gaze and looked at everyone else. “There’s not much time. I’ve already written down my choice. Now it’s up to you. But remember, if even one person’s answer is different from mine, everyone here will be ‘punished’.”

Everyone looked a bit intimidated.

A monster capable of killing at will was now about to be “voted out” by them.

Would he accept that?

Brian Johnson glanced at the goat-headed man out of the corner of his eye and saw that he remained motionless, his deep gaze piercing out from the goat mask, lost in thought.

“Damn it, let’s just go for it!” Brian Johnson waved his hand and wrote down the words “human-goat.”

The others hesitated for a moment, then also wrote down their answers.

Ashley Carter looked around—without exception, every answer was “human-goat.”

The clock pointed to one o’clock. The game was over.

The goat-headed man slowly stepped forward and said, “Congratulations, you have survived the ‘Liar’ game. Now, I will personally ‘punish’ the loser.”

Before anyone could react, the goat-headed man pulled a pistol from his coat, turned the barrel toward his own heart, and pulled the trigger.

A deafening bang echoed through the cramped room.

In such a confined space, the sound was hard to dissipate, and everyone felt a bit of ringing in their ears.

Immediately after, the goat-headed man clutched his chest and began to scream in agony.

His shrieks soon drowned out the echo of the gunshot, reverberating through the room and sending chills down everyone’s spine.

The goat-headed man screamed and coughed up blood, and it took more than a minute for his cries to subside into painful groans.

“What… what the hell…” Brian Johnson stared blankly at the goat-headed man. “Is he for real?”

A few more minutes passed, and even the groans faded away.

Suddenly, the nine people present realized they could move their legs again.