Chapter 6: Indirect killers

"Don't try to sow discord," Officer Brown glared at Jessy sternly. "You're a loan shark, and I'm a cop. Who do you think people will believe?"

Lucas observed the escalating dispute among the group. He knew Officer Brown was unlikely to be lying; he really was a policeman. 

But he was heading in the wrong direction. 

Perhaps it was his professional nature or his sense of justice that drove him to try to organize everyone orderly. 

As the halftime break approached its halfway mark, the room gradually fell silent.

During this time, Lucas had repeated "My name is Jack Brown" countless times in his mind, until he started to feel annoyed with himself. 

After all, he had been sitting next to a shattered head for almost an hour, making it impossible to focus. 

Blood was dripping from the table to the floor, and the group had been coexisting with the corpse in the room for nearly an hour, causing a strange odor to spread.

Lucas casually glanced at the corpse beside him, feeling disgusted by the sight. His pants were already filthy, stained by the bodily fluids released by the deceased. 

After death, various organs lose muscle control in a short period, resulting in involuntary excretion. Before the stench of decay arrived, a foul smell had already permeated the air.

Sitting on the other side of the corpse was a girl who seemed very unhappy with the odor, covering her nose and mouth with her hand.

After another ten minutes passed, the man with the wolf head finally spoke up, announcing, "The twenty-minute halftime break is over, and the game resumes."

The young man named Walter, who had momentarily lost his composure, took a deep breath and said, "My name is Walter Nitsche, and I'm a web novel writer."

"Before coming here, I was in a rented house writing the final chapter of a novel. Because the story involved nearly a hundred characters, most of whom appeared in the final chapter, I was completely absorbed in my writing and didn't hear any noise outside."

"Even... I don't know when the earthquake happened, or when I lost consciousness..." 

Walter's story was different from everyone else's. At the moment, it seemed that he was completely "independent" and stopped abruptly after just a few sentences.

"Is that all?" the muscular man asked, slightly surprised. "You're ending it with just 'I don't know'?"

"Because I can't lie, so there's no need for me to fabricate an answer just to please everyone," Walter's voice, though soft, strangely carried conviction.

"Alright... who's next?" Brown the officer said, still wearing a skeptical expression. "It's the lady's turn."

"Hey, cop," Jessy, not pleased with Brown's attitude, spoke up. "We're all 'participants,' don't act like you're the captain."

"Someone has to step up to organize everyone, right?" Brown retorted. "I've said it before, among us, only one is the enemy. The remaining eight must unite."

"But that doesn't mean it's your turn to command here," Jessy dismissed Brown's words entirely. "Outside, I might fear you, but in this situation, nobody knows if you're the 'liar' or not."

"Both of you, stop arguing," the cold woman interrupted them. 

She had been accusing the man with the wolf head of imprisoning everyone for twenty-four hours from the start, and she seemed very calm and composed.

Seeing the two calm down, she continued, "In this so-called 'game,' regardless of who ultimately wins, the remaining people may be considered 'indirect killers.' After all, we collectively voted to have someone killed by the werewolf. That's the issue you should be considering."

Upon hearing this, Lucas's expression softened slightly. 

If he really managed to survive and leave this room, then he had indeed "killed" the other eight people. But what could he do about it? 

The card in front of him was a genuine "liar." Who would willingly give up their life to let others live?

"I'm Hedda Piotrowski, a lawyer," the cold woman said, her hands crossed, expressionless. "It's regrettable to meet everyone in such a bizarre place. Otherwise, I would have given out my business card." 

The others couldn't quite grasp Hedda's humor, but she didn't seem to mind.

"Before coming here, I was organizing court documents. My client was cheated out of two million dollars, involving a large amount of money and a serious nature," Hedda continued. As she mentioned the "two million," the expressions of the others remained unchanged, but Jessy visibly flinched and asked, "Two million?"

"That's right, two million. They say lawyers are the most impartial people, but we also have personal feelings. That man borrowed from loan sharks to support his family, which is very worrying. But illegal lending is another case, and it's not related to me," Hedda clarified.

"At the time of the earthquake, I was driving to meet my client on Beverly Park Avenue, just past the Museum West Pavilion, near the Getty Center. I remember... I wasn't driving fast, around forty miles per hour, when suddenly I saw the ground ahead crack," Cliff recounted. "I immediately hit the brakes and came to a stop in front of the crack. However, the cars behind me couldn't avoid it and rear-ended me."

"I only heard a few loud noises as my car were pushed into the crack, and then I lost consciousness and woke up here."

Another story concluded, leaving only three people left to speak. 

"Getty Center..." Dr. Escano pondered for a moment before speaking. "Is it the Getty Center in L.A.?"

"Yes, I work in L.A."

It seemed that this earthquake had affected the entire country. 

With each unfamiliar story, it became increasingly difficult to guess who might be lying.

"Now it's my turn," Cliff, the police officer, announced to the group. "As I mentioned earlier, my name is Cliff Brown, I'm a police officer, and I'm from North Dakota."

"Before coming here, I was staking out a scammer. According to reliable information, we had tracked down the exact whereabouts of the suspect," the person revealed. 

"This suspect was involved in a massive scam, amounting to two million dollars, the first major fraud case our city has seen this year."

"My colleague and I were parked in the car, keeping watch, waiting for the scammer to show up."

"But this suspect was smarter than we anticipated. It seemed like he sensed some danger and didn't surface for three straight days."

"We spent those three days eating, drinking, and even relieving ourselves in the car. Our spirits were on the verge of breaking."

"Do you know what's even more unbearable for an adult man than going without food and drink?"

"It's going without cigarettes."

"We didn't have a single cigarette between the two of us. According to protocol, we couldn't leave our post, but the craving for a smoke was unbearable."

"So I sent my colleague to run and buy some cigarettes, while I kept a close eye on the entrance to the suspect's residence."

"But what I didn't expect was that shortly after my colleague left, the whole earth began to shake violently. I wanted to get out of the car to see what was happening, but suddenly someone was behind me, tightening a thin thread around my neck."

"Although we're both skilled in close combat, dealing with a thin thread coming from the back seat of the car was extremely difficult. I couldn't even touch the person behind me, let alone remove the thread from around my neck."

As the others stared at Brown, they noticed the red mark on his neck, confirming his story.

"Immediately, I reclined the seat to regain my breath, but I couldn't turn around because of my tall stature, and my legs were wedged under the steering wheel," Brown continued. "While I was lying down, the person behind me seized the opportunity and struck my head with something, causing me to lose consciousness."

Upon hearing Brown's account, the others couldn't help but start to suspect. 

He was the only one who described being attacked rather than being incapacitated by an accident. 

If they had to pick the most suspicious person among them, wouldn't it be him?