The End of Ten Days
Author: NovelBin
Chapter Vol. 1 Ch. 2
The woman's screaming stopped, and everyone's thoughts came to an abrupt halt.
The men who had been hurling insults moments before also fell silent.
This was no longer a matter of "breaking the law." The terrifying truth now stood before them: this monstrous figure was absolutely willing to kill.
After a full minute of oppressive silence, the goat-headed figure nodded slightly.
The group’s expressions darkened, but no one dared to speak. Just as he said—there were now truly only "nine" of them.
Qi Xia reached out with a trembling hand and pulled a pale yellow fragment off his face.
It was a piece of shattered brain tissue, still warm and faintly pulsing. But within seconds, it lost its vitality, collapsing like a punctured balloon.
the goat-headed figure said, lifting his blood-stained hand to point at his mask.
The group froze, confused by the terms.
Man-Goat said in a calm tone.
These words caused the group to frown collectively.
During the short time they had spent with this man, they had already recognized that he was a madman. But now this madman was claiming to be creating a "God"?
the muscular young man asked nervously.
Man-Goat exclaimed, gesturing excitedly. His rancid odor seemed to intensify, and his voice carried a hint of malevolence.
As he spoke, his voice grew louder and more manic, his entire demeanor brimming with fervor.
The muscular man furrowed his brow, finding the concept increasingly difficult to accept. After a pause, he asked,
Man-Goat tilted his head and looked at the man.
After hearing this, the group fell silent again.
The muscular man’s question was pointed—Man-Goat’s actions had clearly resembled those of a cult. However, most cults tended to invent new deities rather than invoke heroic figures like Nuwa.
the muscular man pressed on,
Man-Goat replied without hesitation.
The tattooed man, who seemed to have calmed down, cursed under his breath.
Man-Goat glanced at the blood still on his hands, a trace of disappointment flashing across his face.
Though he didn’t say it outright, everyone understood his meaning.
If they lost, they would die.
There was no "walk away alive" option. It was either ascend to Man-Goat’s so-called "Godhood" or die like the young man whose head had been smashed.
Man-Goat said as he slowly pulled a stack of papers from his coat. Casually, he walked around the table, placing one sheet in front of each participant.
Then, he handed out pens to everyone.
The table was still stained with blood, and as each white sheet touched the surface, it absorbed the red streaks. When they flipped the paper over to examine it, the blood smeared further, making the sheets appear almost entirely red.
The group was perplexed. Would anyone really dare to lie in a life-or-death situation?
the muscular man suddenly asked.
Man-Goat responded, nodding.
the muscular man decided without hesitation.
Man-Goat said, stepping back from the table to give them space.
The muscular man pressed his lips together, scanning the group while deliberately avoiding looking at the headless corpse on the table. He finally spoke:
The group turned their attention to him.
Could there really be a way for everyone to survive?
the muscular man declared.
The man in the white coat tapped his fingers lightly on the table. After a moment, he calmly said:
The muscular man looked slightly annoyed.
Man-Goat raised his hand slightly and said,
The two men glared at each other but held their tongues.
Man-Goat instructed, pulling a small stack of cards from his pocket. The cards were about the size of playing cards, with the words "Nuwa’s Game" written on the back.
The muscular man frowned.
Man-Goat chuckled.
The muscular man gritted his teeth.
Man-Goat sneered.
Though seething, the muscular man swallowed his anger, knowing Man-Goat’s strength made resistance futile.
Within a minute, all nine participants had drawn a card, but no one dared to look at theirs.
For the four women, their hands trembled slightly, while the men’s faces were grim.
This wasn’t just about "identity"—it was about "life and death."
Qi Xia took a deep breath, casually sliding his card toward himself. He flipped it over for a quick glance.
The words staring back at him were clear:
[--------------------------------------------]
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The men who had been hurling insults moments before also fell silent.
This was no longer a matter of "breaking the law." The terrifying truth now stood before them: this monstrous figure was absolutely willing to kill.
After a full minute of oppressive silence, the goat-headed figure nodded slightly.
The group’s expressions darkened, but no one dared to speak. Just as he said—there were now truly only "nine" of them.
Qi Xia reached out with a trembling hand and pulled a pale yellow fragment off his face.
It was a piece of shattered brain tissue, still warm and faintly pulsing. But within seconds, it lost its vitality, collapsing like a punctured balloon.
the goat-headed figure said, lifting his blood-stained hand to point at his mask.
The group froze, confused by the terms.
Man-Goat said in a calm tone.
These words caused the group to frown collectively.
During the short time they had spent with this man, they had already recognized that he was a madman. But now this madman was claiming to be creating a "God"?
the muscular young man asked nervously.
Man-Goat exclaimed, gesturing excitedly. His rancid odor seemed to intensify, and his voice carried a hint of malevolence.
As he spoke, his voice grew louder and more manic, his entire demeanor brimming with fervor.
The muscular man furrowed his brow, finding the concept increasingly difficult to accept. After a pause, he asked,
Man-Goat tilted his head and looked at the man.
After hearing this, the group fell silent again.
The muscular man’s question was pointed—Man-Goat’s actions had clearly resembled those of a cult. However, most cults tended to invent new deities rather than invoke heroic figures like Nuwa.
the muscular man pressed on,
Man-Goat replied without hesitation.
The tattooed man, who seemed to have calmed down, cursed under his breath.
Man-Goat glanced at the blood still on his hands, a trace of disappointment flashing across his face.
Though he didn’t say it outright, everyone understood his meaning.
If they lost, they would die.
There was no "walk away alive" option. It was either ascend to Man-Goat’s so-called "Godhood" or die like the young man whose head had been smashed.
Man-Goat said as he slowly pulled a stack of papers from his coat. Casually, he walked around the table, placing one sheet in front of each participant.
Then, he handed out pens to everyone.
The table was still stained with blood, and as each white sheet touched the surface, it absorbed the red streaks. When they flipped the paper over to examine it, the blood smeared further, making the sheets appear almost entirely red.
The group was perplexed. Would anyone really dare to lie in a life-or-death situation?
the muscular man suddenly asked.
Man-Goat responded, nodding.
the muscular man decided without hesitation.
Man-Goat said, stepping back from the table to give them space.
The muscular man pressed his lips together, scanning the group while deliberately avoiding looking at the headless corpse on the table. He finally spoke:
The group turned their attention to him.
Could there really be a way for everyone to survive?
the muscular man declared.
The man in the white coat tapped his fingers lightly on the table. After a moment, he calmly said:
The muscular man looked slightly annoyed.
Man-Goat raised his hand slightly and said,
The two men glared at each other but held their tongues.
Man-Goat instructed, pulling a small stack of cards from his pocket. The cards were about the size of playing cards, with the words "Nuwa’s Game" written on the back.
The muscular man frowned.
Man-Goat chuckled.
The muscular man gritted his teeth.
Man-Goat sneered.
Though seething, the muscular man swallowed his anger, knowing Man-Goat’s strength made resistance futile.
Within a minute, all nine participants had drawn a card, but no one dared to look at theirs.
For the four women, their hands trembled slightly, while the men’s faces were grim.
This wasn’t just about "identity"—it was about "life and death."
Qi Xia took a deep breath, casually sliding his card toward himself. He flipped it over for a quick glance.
The words staring back at him were clear:
[--------------------------------------------]
If you want early access to new chapters and to support the continuation of this story, consider subscribing to my Patreon. Your support means a lot and helps me bring more great content to you!