An old tungsten filament light hung from the ceiling by a black wire, flickering with dim, uneven light.

The silence in the room spread like ink dropped into clear water—slowly permeating and expanding.

In the center of the room was a large, weathered round table, its surface worn and aged. At the middle of the table stood a small, intricately designed clock, ticking away with a faint sound.

Seated around the table were ten individuals, each dressed in a variety of tattered and dusty clothing. Their faces were smudged with dirt, and their expressions were weary.

Some were slumped over the table; others leaned back in their chairs, all of them deeply asleep.

Standing silently beside them was a man dressed in a black suit, wearing a goat-headed mask.

Through the ancient, battered mask, his sharp eyes glimmered with interest as he observed the ten people.

The clock on the table began to chime as both the minute hand and the hour hand pointed to "twelve."

In the far distance outside the room, a deep, resonant bell echoed faintly.

At that exact moment, the ten men and women seated at the round table began to slowly awaken.

As they regained consciousness, they first looked around the room in confusion, then glanced at each other with puzzled expressions.

It seemed no one remembered how they had arrived in this place.

"Good morning, all nine of you," the goat-headed figure began, breaking the silence. "It’s a pleasure to meet you here. You’ve all been asleep in my presence for the past twelve hours."

The man’s strange attire startled the group, especially in the dim, eerie light of the room.

His mask looked as though it had been crafted from a real goat’s head, with much of the hair yellowed, blackened, and matted together.

The eyeholes of the mask were hollow, revealing his cunning, sinister eyes.

Every movement of his emitted the distinct musky odor of a goat, combined with an unsettling scent of decay.

A man with tattooed arms blinked in confusion for a few seconds before finally realizing the absurdity of the situation. Hesitant, he asked, "Who... who are you?"

"I’m sure you all have the same question," the goat-headed man replied cheerfully, waving his hands as if he had been waiting for this moment. "Allow me to introduce myself to the nine of you."

Sitting farthest from the goat-headed man was a young man named Qi Xia. He quickly scanned the room, his expression growing grim within moments.

This room was strange. Far too strange.

There were no doors, only walls on all sides.

In fact, the room was completely sealed—walls, ceiling, and floor. And yet, somehow, there was this table placed in the center of the room.

How had they gotten in here?

Had they been brought in first, and then the walls constructed around them afterward?

Qi Xia’s gaze swept over the room again. The floor, walls, and ceiling were all marked with intersecting lines that divided them into large squares.

Another detail caught his attention: the goat-headed man had addressed them as "nine."

No matter how he counted, there were ten people sitting at the table. Including the goat-headed man, there were eleven individuals in the room.

What did "nine" mean?

Reaching into his pocket, Qi Xia wasn’t surprised to find that his phone was gone.

"There’s no need to explain yourself to us," a cold voice interrupted. A woman with an icy demeanor turned to the goat-headed figure and said, "I advise you to stop whatever you’re doing. I suspect you’ve already detained us for over twenty-four hours, which constitutes illegal imprisonment. Everything you say now will be recorded as evidence against you."

As she spoke, she brushed dust off her arm with an air of disdain, as if being dirty was more offensive to her than being held captive.

Her words seemed to snap the group to attention. No matter who this man was, kidnapping ten people was unquestionably a serious crime that violated the law.

"Wait a minute..." A middle-aged man in a white lab coat interrupted, narrowing his gaze at the cold woman. "We all just woke up moments ago. How do you know we’ve been detained for ‘twenty-four hours’?"

His tone was calm and steady, yet his question struck directly to the point.

The woman, unperturbed, pointed to the clock on the table. "The clock is currently pointing to twelve. I have a habit of staying up late, and the last time I looked at the clock at home, it was also twelve. This indicates that we’ve been detained for at least twelve hours."

She then gestured to the walls around them and continued, "You should have noticed—there are no doors in this room. This means he went to great lengths to bring us here. He claims we’ve been asleep for twelve hours, and now the clock is pointing to twelve again, having gone two full rotations. This is why I suspect it’s been over twenty-four hours. Any objections?"

The man in the white coat stared at her coldly, suspicion still evident in his gaze.

Her composure seemed too unnatural. In such an environment, how could someone remain so calm and logical?

A muscular young man in a black T-shirt broke the silence. "Goat-head, why are there ten people here, but you’re saying there are nine?"

The goat-headed man remained silent, offering no immediate response.

"What the hell does it matter how many there are?" the tattooed man snapped angrily. He tried to push himself up from the table, but his legs gave out beneath him, leaving him slumped in his chair. He pointed shakily at the goat-headed man and added, "You’d better rethink what you’re doing. You have no idea who you’re messing with. I’ll kill you for this."

The tension in the room rose. Several of the men’s expressions grew serious—it was clear that they needed to act. If they could overpower the goat-headed man, they might be able to regain control of the situation.

But as they attempted to stand, they realized their legs were paralyzed, as though something had been injected into them.

All they could do was hurl verbal threats and curses at the goat-headed man.

Qi Xia, however, remained silent. Stroking his chin, he stared at the clock on the table, lost in thought.

Things weren’t as simple as they seemed.

The goat-headed man had specifically mentioned "nine participants." If there were ten people here, then one of them wasn’t a participant.

Who were they?

Among the five men and five women in the room, could one of them be the "kidnapper"?

Without speaking, the goat-headed man slowly moved behind one of the young men seated at the table.

Everyone followed his gaze and realized that the young man he stood behind was different from the others. Though his face was dirty, it was lit up with an eerie, almost blissful smile.

The goat-headed man raised a hand and placed it on the back of the young man’s head.

The young man’s smile grew more unsettling, and he glanced at the others with excitement, as if he already knew something they didn’t.

With a dull thud, the goat-headed man slammed the young man’s head down onto the table.

A horrifying splatter of pink and white spread like paint across the table. Blood droplets landed on everyone’s faces.

The young man’s skull had been shattered completely against the tabletop.

From outside the room, the distant sound of a bell echoed again.

Sitting closest to the deceased, Qi Xia felt something warm and sticky land on his face. Staring at the remains, his body began to tremble despite his best efforts to stay composed.

The woman seated next to the victim froze for three seconds before her face contorted, and she let out a piercing scream.

The scream shattered the frail psychological defenses of the group.

Could a human being truly shatter a skull with their bare hands?

Was the goat-headed figure even human?

Despite his frail appearance, how could he possess such terrifying strength?

The goat-headed man finally spoke again: "The reason I brought ten of you here was so that one of you could be used to quiet the rest."

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

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