As Seven grabbed the cutting board, she spoke: "I choose this cutting board because I prefer cooking for myself at home over ordering takeout."
Hearing this, Byrne couldn't help but admire Lady Seven. If she wasn't lying, then these words successfully bypassed the trap in the man's question. She didn't directly link the board to a profession; instead, she used home cooking as a way to circumvent the pitfall, providing a rational explanation while avoiding the exposure of her professional identity.
Byrne leaned forward slightly, his gaze fixed on the man in the formal suit on stage. Seeing Seven's response, Byrne understood that the key to this third question wasn't the actual connection between the item and the job, but rather downplaying or bypassing any information that might expose one's career while explaining the reasoning.
The man on stage remained silent. His silhouette was motionless under the spotlight, and the golden patterns on his mask shimmered. No one could discern his current expression. After a long while, he let out a loud laugh.
"Interesting. The answer is valid."
As he spoke, the three items floating before Seven vanished instantly. With the spotlight extinguished, Seven let out a long sigh of relief, her body slumping back into her seat.
"However, the game has only just begun. Who will be the next lucky one?"
He raised his hand to press the turntable again. As his fingertips brushed past the seat numbers on the disk, many in the audience instinctively held their breath. After a moment, when the wheel stopped, the pointer aimed precisely at the number fourteen.
Snap!
A new spotlight flickered on, illuminating Seat Fourteen. It was a tall man wearing a black suit. Even with the silver mask on, he exuded a cold, hard aura. Upon being chosen, he showed no panic; he merely tilted his head up slightly, staring directly at the man on stage through the sunken eye sockets of his mask.
The man in the suit smiled. "Mr. Fourteen, you seem very composed. Now, for the first question: Is your age over thirty-five?"
Fourteen remained silent for two seconds. His voice came through the mask, deep and steady: "Compared to thirty-five, my age has a three-year difference."
The phrasing was subtle. A three-year difference could mean he was thirty-two or thirty-eight. Based on this sentence alone, it was impossible to pinpoint his exact age. This answer seemed to provide information while effectively saying nothing at all, perfectly wedging itself into the gap between the two rules.
The man on stage crossed his arms and teased, "Heh, what an interesting answer. It seems our invitees are very skilled at finding loopholes in the rules."
After the teasing, his tone shifted. "Now, for the second question: Do you know any of the other invitees present?"
Byrne was momentarily stunned by this question, but he quickly realized it was another carefully designed dilemma. Upon closer inspection, this question was even more difficult than Seven's. If he gave an affirmative answer and no one actually knew him, it might be fine, but if someone did recognize him, it would indirectly expose his identity. Conversely, if he gave a negative answer and an acquaintance happened to be present, he would violate the rule of answering truthfully.
Therefore, whether the answer was yes or no, it could potentially lead to an error and result in being eliminated by the rules.
This time, Fourteen remained silent for much longer than he had for the first question, clearly understanding that this was not an easy query to handle.
The man in the suit chuckled. "Mr. Fourteen, I must remind you that time is almost up."
Just as the countdown was nearing its end, Fourteen finally settled on an answer and spoke: "Among all the invitees present, this is the first time I have seen everyone wearing a silver mask."
Fourteen's response was exceptionally clever. He didn't answer directly whether he knew anyone; instead, he placed the core of his answer on the premise of "wearing a silver mask." Since everyone present wore the same silver-white mask, no one could see the face beneath. Even if Fourteen truly knew someone there, he could use the mask as a reason to distance himself.
After hearing Fourteen's answer, the man on stage praised him: "Brilliant, brilliant. The answer is valid. Now for the final question. Like Lady Seven before you, choose an item related to your profession and explain why."
As soon as he finished, the man waved his hand, and three items materialized before Fourteen: a fountain pen, a stethoscope, and a measuring tape.
Byrne glanced at the three items. Like Seven's set, these were things with very clear professional indicators. The pen pointed toward clerical work, teaching, or writing; the stethoscope was the iconic tool of medical staff; and the measuring tape indicated designers, decorators, or tailors.
The man in the suit put his hands in his pockets. "Mr. Fourteen, take your time choosing. I look forward to your answer."
However, unlike Seven, Fourteen didn't think for long before reaching out to grab the fountain pen.
"I choose this pen because I write in a diary every night before I go to sleep."
Fourteen's voice was steady and calm. Coming through the silver mask, there wasn't a hint of forced panic. His answering technique was the same as Seven's—using a lifestyle-based reason to avoid professional attributes.
The man on stage clapped repeatedly. "The answer is valid. Congratulations to Mr. Fourteen for successfully completing his answers. Now, who will the next lucky one be?"
The turntable beside him began to spin once more. Finally, the pointer stopped at the number nine.
Snap!
The spotlight lit up instantly, enveloping Byrne. The man on stage raised his hand. "Mr. Nine, it's your turn."
Byrne showed no sign of panic as the spotlight suddenly fell on him. He adjusted his sitting posture slightly, turned his gaze to the man on stage, and waited for the question. After the demonstrations by the first two invitees, Byrne was not at all worried about this game within the framework of the rules. He knew that every question from the man in the suit was a carefully designed trap. To pass, the key was to find the optimal solution in the crack between "truthful answers" and "hiding identity."
Seeing Byrne's composed manner, the man on stage nodded. "Excellent. It seems Mr. Nine is also full of confidence. Now listen carefully. For the first question: Does your job require frequent communication with others?"
Hey, why aren't you following the script? Why are you asking about work right from the start this time?
Byrne's brow twitched slightly. This question seemed broad, but it accurately struck at his professional characteristics. As an interior designer, Byrne naturally had to coordinate with clients and manage a team; his work was undeniably high-frequency communication.
Byrne could feel a dozen gazes fixed on him. Resting his chin on one hand, he began to think. A moment later, a smirk touched his lips as he came up with the perfect answer.