Chapter 6 The Police Officer

• “Quit stirring the pot.” Spencer glared at Jeremiah, his tone stern. “You're a loan shark, and I'm a cop. Who do you think people will believe?”
• Skyler glanced at the arguing crowd around him. He knew that Spencer wasn't lying; he really was a criminal investigation police.
• However, he was doing things the wrong way.
• Perhaps it was his professional instinct, or perhaps it was his sense of justice, but he kept trying to organize everyone in an orderly manner.
• The half-time break was more than halfway over, and the crowd gradually fell silent.
• During this period, Skyler had already repeated “My name is Matthew Lewis” countless times in his mind, to the point where he was growing somewhat annoyed.
• After all, he was beside a body with a shattered skull, making it impossible for anyone to stay calm.
• Blood trickled down the table, dripping onto the floor. The people in the room had been sharing the space with the corpse for nearly an hour, and a revolting stench began to waft through the air.
• Skyler glanced nonchalantly at the body lying next to him, whose pants were already disgustingly dirty.
• A short while after a person's death, the body's muscles would lose their tension, resulting in incontinence.
• Before the stench of death arrived, a foul smell would already assault the senses.
• Skyler and a woman were seated on either side of the corpse. The woman seemed quite displeased with the smell, her hand covering her mouth and nose.
• Another ten minutes passed, and finally, Goat Head spoke up. “The twenty-minute intermission is over. The game shall resume.”
• The young man known as Michael steadied his nerves, took a deep breath, and then said, “My name is Michael Hopkins, and I'm a web novel author. Before coming here, I was engrossed in writing the grand finale of my novel in my rented apartment. The novel featured over a hundred characters, most of whom had to make an appearance in the conclusion. Consequently, I was so focused on my writing that I was completely unaware of anything happening outside, to the point I had no idea when the earthquake even hit, or when I lost consciousness...”
• The story Michael told was unlike anyone else's. As it stood, he appeared completely independent, and his tale abruptly ended after just a few sentences.
• “Is that it?” Spencer was slightly taken aback. “So you're saying 'I don't know' and that's the end of it?”
• “Because I can't lie. There's no need for me to fabricate an answer just to please everyone.” Michael's voice, though not loud, was inexplicably persuasive.
• “All right... Let's move on to the next person,” Spencer said, his face still showing traces of doubt. “It's that lady's turn now.”
• “Hey, cop.” Jeremiah was somewhat dissatisfied with Spencer's attitude. “We're all participants here, so don't act like you're the team leader.”
• “Someone has to step up and organize everyone, right?” Spencer countered. “As I mentioned earlier, only one among us is the enemy. The remaining eight must band together.”
• “Even so, it's not your place to call the shots here.” Jeremiah completely disregarded Spencer's words. “I might fear you out there, but under these circumstances, no one knows if you're the liar.”
• “Both of you, stop arguing now,” the aloof woman interjected, interrupting the two.
• From how she had accused Goat Head of detaining everyone for more than twenty-four hours at the very start, she appeared methodical and extremely composed.
• Seeing the two calm down, she continued, “In this so-called 'game', no matter who ultimately wins, the others may be considered indirect murderers. After all, it was our collective vote that led to someone's death. This is the issue you should be contemplating.”
• Upon hearing these words, a faint flicker of emotion crossed Skyler's face.
• If he truly managed to emerge alive from this room, then he had indeed “killed” the other eight individuals.
• But what other choice did he have?
• The card in front of him was undeniably that of “the liar.” Who would willingly give up their own life so others could live on?
• “My name is Christine Zeller. I'm a practicing lawyer,” the cool and impassive woman stated, her arms crossed. “It's unfortunate to meet you all in such a peculiar place. Otherwise, I would have certainly presented my business card.”
• The others simply couldn't grasp Christine's sense of humor, but it appeared that she didn't seem to mind.
• “Before coming here, I was sorting out court documents. My client had been swindled out of two million, a substantial sum, so the nature of the crime was severe.”
• When the number “two million” was mentioned, everyone else seemed unfazed. However, Jeremiah visibly jolted in surprise, asking, “Two million?”
• “Yes, two million. They say lawyers are the most impartial and selfless people, but we have feelings too. That man, in order to support his family, resorted to high-interest loans, which was quite worrying. However, him taking an unlawful loan is a separate case, and it's not my concern. When the earthquake struck, I was on my way to meet the client, driving along Blue Sheep St. I had just passed the Museum of Poets and was near the Marquis Shrine. I recall... I wasn't going too fast, roughly around forty kilometers per hour, when suddenly I saw the ground splitting open not far ahead. I immediately hit the brakes, coming to a steady stop right before the fissure. Unexpectedly, the car behind couldn't swerve in time, resulting in a series of rear-end collisions. All I heard were a few loud bangs, and then my car was thrust into the fissure. After that, I blacked out and woke up here.”
• Another person's story had concluded, leaving only three individuals who had yet to share their tales.
• “The Marquis Shrine...” Harvey pondered for a moment before asking, “Are you referring to the Marquis Shrine in Cheville?”
• “Yes, I work in Cheville.”
• It seemed that this earthquake had spread across the entire nation, not just a few states.
• Guessing who was lying simply based on these unfamiliar stories was truly challenging.
• “It's my turn now.” Spencer glanced at the crowd. “I've already introduced myself earlier. My name is Spencer Lloyd, and I'm a detective, originally from Inner Myrthesia. Before coming here, I was staking out a fraudster. Due to reliable sources, we had already pinpointed the exact whereabouts of the suspect. The suspect in question had orchestrated a massive scam, swindling as much as two million. This marks the first case of such a large-scale fraud reported in our city this year. My colleague and I were in the car, keeping a watchful eye, simply waiting for the fraudster to appear. However, the suspect was even smarter than we had anticipated. It was as if he had sensed some kind of danger, and he didn't show up for three straight days. For those three days, we lived in the car, eating, drinking, and taking care of all our needs. We never left for anything. By the end, we were on the verge of a mental breakdown. Do you know what's even more unbearable for a grown man than having nothing to eat or drink? Not having cigarettes. Both of us were completely out of cigarettes. In theory, we absolutely couldn't leave our posts, but the discomfort of not having a smoke was too hard to bear. So, I sent my colleague off on a run to buy cigarettes, while I kept a close watch on the entrance and exit of the suspect's residence. What took me by surprise was that not long after my colleague left, the entire ground began to shake violently. I initially wanted to get out of the car to see what was happening, but suddenly, someone from behind strangled my neck with a thin wire. Even though I'm skilled at close combat, dealing with the thin wire that was pulled taut from the backseat of the car was extremely challenging. I couldn't even reach the person behind me, let alone remove the wire from around my neck.”
• At that moment, everyone turned their attention to Spencer. Indeed, there was a distinct red mark around his neck.
• “So, I immediately reclined my seat to catch my breath, but I couldn't turn around. After all, I'm a tall guy, and my legs were wedged under the steering wheel. The person behind me seized the opportunity when I dropped back, striking my head hard with an unknown object, and I lost consciousness.”
• After hearing Spencer's story, everyone couldn't help but start to harbor doubts.
• After all, he recounted a completely different scenario. Before him, all those involved had been injured and knocked unconscious due to unforeseen accidents.
• He was the only one who ended up here because of an attack.
• If one had to choose the most suspicious person among them, wouldn't it be him?