Chapter 257: Hidden Lies

Both men, having lost control of their emotions in the chaos, were caught in a tussle during which one pushed the other, resulting in a knife wound.

The burly man's knife was lodged in the old man's chest.

Seeing this, the onlookers all recoiled.

The old man stared down in disbelief at the knife protruding from his chest, letting out a light cough.

"You..." The burly man holding the knife felt his head spin. "Why did you grab my knife?!"

The old man tried to say more, but he collapsed to the ground and fell still.

Everything had spiraled out of control.

Qi Xia watched the scene coldly, sensing a shift in the atmosphere.

The burly man, who had previously represented the interests of the "poor people," had now killed another "poor person" right in front of everyone.

His hold on power was already showing cracks before it was even secure.

This only demonstrated that the man with the knife wasn't clever enough—sometimes, it's better to just hold the knife without striking.

As the crowd hesitated, an unexpected figure slowly approached.

It was Di Yang, who had been standing in the center of the room all along.

Di Yang gazed gravely at the deceased "poor person," then looked up at the burly man and said, "You've got some nerve. Who gave you permission to keep killing people?"

"Huh?"

The burly man was clearly stunned; he had thought violence was permissible in this place, but Di Yang seemed to forbid killing.

Di Yang crouched down to examine the stabbed old man, his eyes flickering uncertainly.

If Qi Xia's guess was correct, he was about to start lying.

"He's beyond saving," Di Yang said, rising and turning to the burly man. "As punishment, I'll have to sanction you."

"Sanction... what?!" The burly man backed away in fear. "Are you kidding?! That wasn't in the rules you set!"

Di Yang stood up without explaining and swiftly slapped the burly man across the face.

The burly man's body remained still, but his head spun a full circle on his neck, his expression frozen in place.

Di Yang pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his hand, saying, "I hope you all understand—this is my game, and you must follow the rules I set. If anyone steps out of line again, I won't hold back. I've confiscated this one's fans. You can all disperse now."

With that, Di Yang took five fans from the burly man's pocket, pushed through the crowd, and returned to the center of the room.

The onlookers quickly scattered, not daring to harbor any ill will toward the "rich person" before them.

Qi Xia observed Di Yang's actions and slowly stroked his chin.

Why had Di Yang done nothing when a "rich person" was killed, but intervened to punish the killing of a "poor person"?

Wasn't that strange?

At that moment, Qin Ding Dong's teammate helped her up. Seeing that the situation was temporarily safe, the two exchanged a glance with Qi Xia and hurried toward the exit.

Qi Xia watched them leave without anyone attempting to stop them.

After all, no one knew exactly what rules Di Yang had established.

Was taking fans allowed? Was killing permitted?

Under these ambiguous rules, everyone's expressions were filled with doubt, and no one had even removed the knife still stuck in the old man's body.

"Could it be..."

Qi Xia realized what he had overlooked.

The difference in treatment for the two victims wasn't because of their "poor person" or "rich person" status.

It was because of their status as "escapees" or "non-escapees."

The participants numbered an even count, and to escape this place, they had to pair up in twos.

So, if an "escapee" died, it didn't matter—they were already out of the remaining count.

But if a "non-escapee" died, it would leave an odd number, forcing someone to be left alone.

That's why Di Yang had stepped in.

To restore an even number, his best option was to kill another person.

Though it was a bit odd, Qi Xia thought this logic made sense.

Next, he needed to focus on his own plan.

He had four "Ai" fans in his hand, and for everything to go smoothly, he had to calculate the total number of "Ai" fans in the game.

Qi Xia walked to the center of the room and slowly closed his eyes.

In his mind, a sea of fans drifted by and neatly arranged into four groups.

But after just a few seconds, he realized he had missed a key issue.

Di Yang had said that at the start, the four suits of fans were equally distributed.

There were fifty participants, each starting with three fans, so that meant one hundred and fifty fans in total.

How could one hundred and fifty fans be evenly divided among four suits?

That would mean 37.5 fans per suit.

That didn't add up—it was a contradiction.

Had Di Yang lied about this?

"It probably isn't..." Qi Xia frowned, thinking to himself. "Lying on such a crucial point would ruin the game's reputation... There wouldn't be any repeat players here."

Besides, if the fan distribution could be lied about, the optimal setup would be 147 of one suit and one each of the others.

That way, at most only two people could escape, making the whole setup of fifty participants, one hundred and fifty fans, and the deception game meaningless.

It would be better to just draw lots for life and death, so Di Yang likely hadn't lied on something so critical.

So, where was the lie?

Qi Xia glanced down at the four "Ai" fans in his hand. He knew that without figuring out the remaining "Ai" fans, he couldn't win the game.

But the 37.5 figure had him stumped.

That left only one other possibility...

At that moment, Qi Xia stood in the center of the room, taking in everyone inside.

He slowly opened his eyes and quickly counted the number of participants in the room, his expression changing.

There were forty participants still standing.

It seemed fine at first, but upon closer thought, something didn't add up.

Among them, one person was clearly standing but dead, so he shouldn't count as part of the remaining.

Qi Xia closed his eyes again and mentally reviewed everything that had happened.

At the game's start, four people escaped immediately, leaving forty-six standing.

Half an hour later, the first team of "rich people" escaped, leaving forty-four.

Then, the person who bought all the "Ai" fans lost their teammate and escaped alone, leaving forty-three.

Finally, Qin Ding Dong and the Sichuan-Chongqing man escaped, leaving forty-one.

Subtracting the "rich person" corpse and the old man's corpse, there should be thirty-nine standing.

Qi Xia opened his eyes and scanned the participants again.

Why were there forty people here?

When had an extra participant appeared?

A strange feeling crept over Qi Xia.

Were there really fifty participants?

Qi Xia only knew that each person had received three fans, but how many people had actually received them?

The group of fifty was larger than he imagined, and they had never lined up properly from the start. When you're in the midst of it, it's impossible to count accurately.

So, the key issue was right there.

"Di Yang... you won't fool me..." Qi Xia slowly smiled.

Now, everything was clear.

This wasn't a game for fifty people—it was for fifty-one.