"My name is Julian," I began, keeping my tone steady, my expression calm. "I'm a cardiologist at a private clinic in Houston. The night I ended up here, I was in the middle of a routine surgery—a stent placement for a 51-year-old woman who had suffered a heart attack.

"It should've been a straightforward procedure, but suddenly, one of her arteries ruptured. I was working quickly to stop the bleeding when the lights in the operating room flickered. Before I could react, two large hands grabbed me from behind. Everything went black, and when I woke up, I was here."

Julian's delivery was flawless—calm, precise, and without a hint of hesitation. If he was lying, he was doing an incredible job.

The group remained silent, the weight of his story lingering in the air. But time wasn't on their side, and soon, all eyes turned to Orion.

Orion had been quiet, sitting cross-legged and leaning slightly forward, his gaze sharp and analytical. For most of the game, he had avoided attention. But now, as the focus shifted to him, he blinked, as if breaking free from deep thought.

"I'm Orion," he began, his voice calm but deliberate. "I'm from… Mississippi. I work as a female emotional companion therapist."

A brief pause followed his statement, long enough to draw suspicion.

Michael, the tattooed man, let out a low whistle. "Damn, bro, that's one hell of a job. Next time, take me with you, yeah?"

"Shut it, musclehead," Halia snapped, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "You wouldn't last five minutes."

Michael scowled, muttering something under his breath, while Orion remained unfazed by their banter.

"My job," Orion continued, his voice steady but tinged with something darker, "is… unconventional. I get paid to seduce the wives of wealthy men. My goal is to make them fall for me so their husbands can file for divorce and move on with their mistresses. It's dirty, I know, but it pays the bills."

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"That's insane," Elton, the professor, blurted out, his face a mix of disbelief and disgust.

Orion's expression darkened. "It started with one job—a deal that went bad in Times Square. That's where everything changed." His voice faltered for a moment, his gaze shifting nervously.

The others exchanged uneasy glances. Orion's hesitation and dubious profession painted a clear target on his back. If anyone here was the liar, surely it was him.

But then Orion did something unexpected. Rising to his feet, he squared his shoulders and faced the group with a sharp intensity. "No, listen. The rules say there's only one liar among us, right? But think about it—look at us. We're from all over the country: Houston, Seattle, New York. None of us are connected. And yet, we were all kidnapped by the same people. Doesn't that strike you as odd?"

His words hung in the air, unsettling in their simplicity.

Orion stepped toward the table where the masked man had placed the cards. With deliberate movements, he picked up his card and flipped it over, revealing the word etched on its surface.

"Liar."

The group collectively gasped, their confusion palpable.

"That's right," Orion said, his voice steady. "Every single one of us is holding the same card. Which means the real liar isn't one of us—it's him." He pointed toward the masked figure looming in the shadows.

The masked man froze, his crimson-streaked mask tilting ever so slightly. Then, he erupted into laughter, the sound echoing through the chamber like a death knell. "Impressive," he said, stepping forward. "Very impressive."

Reaching into his pocket, he retrieved a set of keys, his unsettling gaze locking onto Orion. "You've earned your chance. But whether you survive depends entirely on how quickly you move."

Orion didn't hesitate. He snatched the keys and sprinted toward Thomason, the officer, whose steady hands made him the most logical choice to free them.

"Here!" Orion barked, shoving the keys into Thomason's hand.

Thomason worked swiftly, unlocking Orion's cuffs first. With a sharp click, they fell to the floor. Orion immediately moved to free the others, urgency driving his every motion.

The timer on the wall continued its relentless countdown. 00:29. 00:28.

"Move faster!" Michael shouted, his voice rising in panic. "I'm not dying here, man!"

One by one, the cuffs fell away. Only Michael remained, his face pale as he glanced at the timer.

"Come on, come on!" he bellowed, his voice cracking. "Hurry the hell up!"

Suddenly—

BANG!

The deafening noise reverberated through the room, silencing everything.

Solara screamed, covering her face with trembling hands. "Did… did someone die?"