The Human Sheep’s Instructions

A dim tungsten bulb dangled from a black wire in the center of the room, flickering weakly. Silence seeped through the air like ink dispersing in water. When the clock struck twelve, a deep bell toll reverberated from afar. 

The ten people at the table jolted awake, their eyes widening at the surreal scene. Jack Li stared at the familiar setup, his mind roiling like stampeding horses. 

He was back.

Everyone was back. 

The Human Sheep stood among them, its rancid stench unchanged. Though Jack Li had anticipated this return, despair flooded him as he took his seat at the circular table. 

"Good morning, nine guests," the Human Sheep's grating voice resumed. "Pleasure to reunite. You've slept here twelve hours." 

Jack Li subtly scanned the faces around him. Their expressions mirrored his first encounter—Barrett dumbfounded, Dr. Lee bewildered, Lawyer Liu coldly analytical. 

"Who… are you?" Barrett blurted, repeating history. 

Jack Li frowned. *Why did no one remember? Why was he the exception?* 

Before the Human Sheep could respond, Lawyer Liu interjected: "Spare the theatrics. Detaining us over twenty-four hours constitutes illegal confinement. Every word you say will be used against you." 

Dr. Lee squinted. "Wait—how do you know it's been twenty-four hours if we just woke up?" 

Jack Li's lips twitched. They were reciting the same lines, performing the same motions. A perfect loop—except for the cracks. 

Lawyer Liu launched into her rehearsed legal lecture, drawing sidelong glances. Last time, someone had interrupted this monologue. Now, silence stretched unnaturally. 

The Human Sheep broke the quiet: "You've noticed there are ten people, yet I address nine." 

"Screw this!" Barrett slammed the table. "Think killing someone scares me? I'll rip your—" 

Jack Li's gaze snapped to the tenth participant—the grinning young man he'd seen die twice. Before he could react, the Human Sheep gripped the man's skull. 

Crack. 

Brains splattered as the body slumped. Distant bells chimed. 

Taylor screamed on cue. 

The Human Sheep flicked gore from its claws. "Ten participants ensure… cooperation. Now, introductions: I am the Human Sheep. You are players in a game to create a **god**." 

No one asked *what kind of god.* Barrett's defiance came late: "F*** your 'god' games! What happens if we lose?" 

"A tragedy," the Human Sheep sighed. "For this world." 

Jack Li seized the opening: "Which world?" 

The Human Sheep's hand clamped his shoulder—a new variable. Cold fingers dug into muscle. "The one that needs its god." 

Identity Cards

Cards dealt, Jack Li palmed his without looking—until a glint caught his eye. 

Do not tell anyone you remember. 

The words shimmered briefly before reverting to: LIAR.

His pulse quickened. The game had changed. 

Lawyer Liu tapped the table, eyes sharp. Dr. Lee moralized: "If you're the liar, confess! Don't gamble eight lives!" 

Barrett fidgeted, card trembling in his grip. Jack Li cut in before the fool could self-sacrifice: "Start the stories already. Who goes first?" 

The Human Sheep pointed to Candy. Her tale unfolded identically—down to Barrett's indignant "Candy's a stripper name! Liar!" 

Jack Li feigned attention while studying Lawyer Liu. Her poise was too controlled, her silence too calculated. 

She remembers too. 

When his turn came, Jack Li spun his lie flawlessly. But as votes loomed, the real game began not against the Human Sheep, but the fractured memories binding them all. 

Jack Li snapped back to reality as Officer Liu concluded his story in three blunt sentences—a far cry from his previous elaborate tale. The room hummed with tension. 

"Cop?" Emma sneered. "Then do something! Arrest that goat freak!" 

"It's not that simple—" 

"Enough." Jack Li cut through the bickering. "Screaming won't crack walls. Emma, if you're so righteous, show us your card." 

The room stilled. Emma paled. The unspoken rule hung heavy—*one liar*. Yet everyone clutched their cards like damning verdicts. 

Jack Li pressed: "Three. Two. Reveal on—" 

"Wait!" Dr. Lee interjected. "Let's hear all stories first. No witch hunts." 

Reluctantly, Jack Li relented. Taylor recounted her high-rise quake trauma. When Jack Li's turn came, he tweaked his narrative—subtle deviations to test the loop's rigidity. 

As the Human Sheep collapsed from its self-inflicted gunshot, Jack Li and Officer Liu converged on the corpse. 

"Found something." Officer Liu slipped a folded contract into Jack Li's hand—*Zodiac Ascension Gambit Pact*. 

Outside, walls morphed into honeycombed tunnels. Barrett rallied the group: "Right turns, lads! Hundred spins!" 

Tony trembled as they rotated the table. 

"What're you hiding?" Jack Li cornered him. 

"The… the harpoons." Tony swallowed hard. "They'll impale me. I *feel* it." 

Jack Li froze. He'd never mentioned harpoons. 

The clock struck. 

BOOM.

Steel prongs erupted from the walls. Tony's scream died as a barb pierced his abdomen—exactly where he'd feared. 

"Move!" Jack Li roared, shoving survivors beneath their makeshift shelter. 

Rain of metal. Blood pooled. 

In the eye of carnage, Jack Li locked eyes with Officer Liu. The cop nodded grimly—*next round*. 

The terminal's gears ground louder.