Secret World: I Became a God Through Lies

Chapter 244, Fourth Treatment: The Room of Self
"Gods control you with dreams, madmen test you with scripts."

And you only need one question:
who I am."

At the end of the corridor, the door stood silently.

It had no department number, yet its surface was unlike any other door—a strange luster shimmered beneath the frosty white glass.
If someone were to repeatedly scratch its back with their fingernails, leaving countless fine, dense, and never overlapping scratches,
It's like trying again and again to carve out a name that no one has ever truly understood.

The metal nameplate on the door was half-rusted, yet surprisingly clear:
[Psychiatric and Behavioral Assessment Department]

Duan Xingzhou frowned and murmured, "...Psychiatry?"

"No." Lin Wanqing's voice was faster than usual, unexpectedly clear and calm, as if the fear that had been hidden in her mind for a long time had suddenly found an outlet.

"'Psychosocial assessment' was a term used before the integration of psychological testing in the last century; it was originally used to—"

She paused for a moment, as if hesitating whether she should speak.

"It's used to determine whether you are truly you."

Si Ming stepped forward and pushed the door open with one foot.

There was no wind or light behind the door.

But everyone instantly "saw" the entire room—without the light.
Instead, it's a kind of "mental preloading" illusion that directly projects the spatial structure into the mind.

Six sofas are arranged in a semicircle, facing a standing mirror covered in cracks.

The mirror surface was covered with a spiderweb-like pattern, each crack appearing as if someone had painstakingly carved it inch by inch with a glass cutter.

But the mirror still retains some reflective ability, barely reflecting the blurry, distorted, and bizarre silhouettes of each person.

On each sofa lay a thick, heavy paper book, as heavy as a dossier, with the patient's number marked on the cover.

Lin Wanqing was the first to step forward, her fingertips trembling slightly as she opened the top book.

Her pupils contracted sharply as her fingernails traced the familiar layout and font:
Patient ID: E-063

[Personality Compatibility Test - 7th Generation]

[Instructions: This test is for others to take on your behalf only; self-assessment is strictly prohibited.]

[WARNING: A personality fit rate below 70% will trigger cognitive stripping/memory repair procedures]

“This… is a personality mirror test.” She practically choked out the words.

Si Ming leaned against the door, hands in his pockets, his eyes fixed on the booklet in her hand.

"You recognize him?" he asked casually, as if tossing out chips at a gambling game.

“I recognize it.” Lin Wanqing gritted her teeth. “I’ve written papers on this topic in the field of mental health.”

She took a breath. "It's not an answer sheet for you to take, but rather—an answer sheet for someone else's personality."

"What?" Lynn asked softly.

"It's testing our observation and trust," Lin Wanqing said slowly.

"The questionnaire in your hand is a 'personality diagnosis' of the person sitting across from you."

"But—it doesn't ask you to make an objective evaluation, but rather to write down your 'subconscious trust' in that person."

The God of Fate pulled a book from the table, opened it to the first page, and read aloud a few questions from it:
[Evaluator ID: E-060]

[Observer ID: E-063]

Q1: Do you think he would lie in a crisis?
Q2: Do you believe he will sacrifice himself for the team?
Q3: Have you ever seen him when he is angry?
Lin Wanqing closed her eyes briefly: "This is not an ordinary test; it's projecting our trust biases."

“It doesn’t care about the facts—it cares about your subconscious.” Her voice was icy cold.

"If I say he can lie—the system will assume 'he can't'."

Even if he never lied once in his life.

Lynn whispered, "Are we... defining each other's 'existence'?"

"Yes." Lin Wanqing nodded, her voice as steady as a surgeon's scalpel.

“This is a behavioral structure disruption copy, not a combat copy.” Her eyes were cold.

"Answer three questions wrong, and the mirror will crack, and your personality will be misplaced."

"If you answer five questions incorrectly, your personality marker will be 'reclaimed,' and the system will initiate a 'cleanup and reconstruction protocol.'"

She turned to look at the mirror.

That cracked mirror seemed like an echo chamber awaiting the next breakdown of personality.

The mirror reflected a blurry light, and the "she" in the mirror tilted her head slightly, as if she already knew that she was about to sit down and answer the questions.

She turned and sat down, laying out the answer sheets page by page.

"This game—is a game for mortals."

Si Ming said in a low voice, took out the thick answer sheet, unfolded it in front of him, and scanned the questions inch by inch with his eyes.

He didn't laugh.

There were no cards either.

He just sat there.

It's like facing the most uncertain gamble—the stakes aren't your life, but "who you are."

You could hear a pin drop in the room.

Six people, six answer sheets, six cracked mirrors.

They wrote each other into the "truth".

This is not a moment of slaying gods, nor a nightmare.

Yes, they need to trust each other—otherwise, they will "disappear" from each other's lives.

A heavy silence descended, suffocating everyone.

"...So who answers whom?" Duan Xingzhou finally spoke, his voice low and deep, as if trying to break through the oppressive atmosphere.

Lin Wanqing bit her lower lip, her gaze sweeping over everyone's faces in circles.

At this moment, her mind was racing—not with logical calculations,

Instead, it is instinct and intuition that are reconstructing an "emotional cognitive map": who understands whom, who trusts whom, who has the smallest deviation, and who has unspeakable prejudice against whom.

She initially intended to give Si Ming to Duan Xingzhou, but then hesitated and gave Lin En to herself.

But just as she was about to put down her pen to confirm, the paper in her hand trembled slightly.

No, it was her hands that were trembling.

"Did I... make a mistake in pairing with him?" she murmured softly.

The voice was like shattered glass stuck in her throat, "Mismatch...maybe it's not so bad..."

"It's just a personality misalignment...it's just—"

Her speech quickened, like a student stuck on a test, trying to recall the answer.

She didn't dare to look at the memorization book. That deep uncertainty began to erode her tone.

Si Ming finally spoke, his voice not loud, yet it pierced through the air.

"Lin Wanqing".

Lin Wanqing was startled.

He stood up from the sofa, walked to her, and extended one hand with his palm open.

"You're not taking a test."

“You are defending something—our right to define ‘truth’.”

“It’s not about choosing who lives, but rather…” He paused, his voice lowering slightly, “…who will survive is still himself.”

Lin Wanqing raised her head and met Shang Siming's eyes. Those eyes, which always carried a hint of weariness and nonchalance, now revealed a clarity and trust that made it impossible for her to look away.

This is not an exam room.

This is the battlefield.

"You are well-deserving." Si Ming chuckled softly, flicking the answer sheet with his fingertip.
"However—you have to take out 'others as we see them' from our minds."

“You teach us how to answer the questions, and we do as you say—you are not the one answering the questions.”

He stepped back, as if giving her the entire theater.

"You are the translator."

Her breath hitched.

Suddenly, she realized that the notebook lying on her lap... the notebook where she secretly wrote almost every night.
It was like a spare eye that she had long forgotten she had placed there.

She slowly turned to the first page.

The handwriting is messy yet meticulous; each page is a shorthand record of the team members' habits and a reflection of their emotions.
[Lynn]: Quick-witted and habitually protective of others. Subconsciously uses "we" instead of "I," and has an instinctive aversion to loneliness.

【Si Ming】: Before speaking, their eyes will shift for about 0.3 seconds. They are good at catering to other people's tone of voice, extremely good at hiding their true intentions, and have a "theatrical self-control".

[Duan Xingzhou]: Delayed physical expression, strong emotional control. A clear protector-like personality, suspected of carrying a long-term, unresolved emotional burden.

【Selene】: Her speech rhythm fluctuates greatly, and she has a strong impulse to disobey orders, but she will automatically adjust under an authoritative structure. She appears arrogant, but is essentially obedient.

[Lin Wanqing]: She often rewrites the first sentence when writing, and has a high frequency of avoidance reaction to the word "trust", which may be due to a history of tearing apart her self-esteem in childhood.

She slowly closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

"I'll do the pairing."

"I answer Si Ming." Her voice was three degrees more steady than before.

"The Master of Fate answered Duan Xingzhou."

Duan Xingzhou replied to Lin En.

"Lynn to Selene."

“Serian, answer me.”

"--start."

The six people took their seats.

The sofa was rather hard, and a faint creaking sound emanated from within the leather, like the faint groans of the spine of a dying person.

The papers trembled spontaneously in the windless room, turning page by page, as if invisible fingertips were revealing the cards of their destiny.

Lynn was the first to put pen to paper.

She answered the questionnaire from the God of Fate.

Her eyes were extremely focused, and every word under her pen seemed to be walking on a thin line.

Q1: Do you believe he will stand up for you in a critical moment?

She wrote: No.

“She will act, but she won’t sacrifice herself for anyone. She is her own queen.” Her tone was low but firm.

Q2: Do you think he would show shame when it comes to intimate relationships?

Answer: Yes.

"He mocked and ridiculed, but he was actually masking his urge to get closer."

[Compatibility Update: Current Match Rate 82%]

The system screen flashed briefly, accompanied by a soft "beep" sound, indicating that the data was stable.

Duan Xingzhou whistled: "Not bad."

As Lin Wanqing took notes, she suddenly realized something: Si Ming was answering the questions way too fast.

He almost never looks at the question; he writes based solely on intuition.

But the answer was surprisingly accurate.

Q4: Would Duan Xingzhou prioritize taking on tasks alone under pressure?
Answer: Yes.

Q7: Is his extreme control over his emotions when facing women out of shame?

Answer: No. Out of fear.

Match rate: 91%

“He’s not slow-witted,” Si Ming said as he wrote. “He just doesn’t know who to confide his emotions to.”

Lin Wanqing said softly, "You are reading him."

“No.” Si Ming smiled, his eyes gleaming with the light of an ancient gambler. “I’ve been waiting for him to reveal his hand.”

This is not a simple questionnaire.

Lin Wanqing finally realized—

“We are not answering questions; we are taking over the blank spaces in each other’s personalities.”

This test paper is a "psychological puzzle" and even more so, a "resonance of fate".

Every answer plants a seed of "truth" in another person's heart—even if it's not true, it's valid as long as you "believe" it.

The cracks on the mirror trembled slightly, as if waiting for the next shattering—or rebuilding.

The game begins.

They need to use their own "beliefs" to acknowledge each other.

Otherwise, they will all lose "themselves".

But the game seemed to be going too smoothly? No! She suddenly looked at the answer sheet in her hand.

It concerns "the God of Fate".

QN: Did he ever actively try to deceive the team?
Her fingers were trembling.

She wasn't sure.

Her instinct was to answer "yes"—because she knew that Si Ming had never truly laid everything bare; he always smiled while hiding his most crucial trump card.
Like a gambler, like an outsider, like a screenwriter who treats the crowd as a theater.

But another part of her wanted to answer "no"—because when the puppet doctor raised the dissecting forceps,

He stood in front of her; when hospital rules tried to define "patient," he was the first to grit his teeth and shout, "We shouldn't give in."

She hesitated, picked up her pen to revise her answer, and wrote "No".

One second after the system responded, a line of text slowly appeared on the screen:
[Compatibility Update: Current Match Rate 68%]

Her heart skipped a beat.

There was no alarm, but the air seemed to suddenly become heavy.

An invisible pressure seemed to come from behind the mirror, making the back of her neck feel cold.

She turned the page again; the next question was:

Q: Do you think he is willing to sacrifice his teammates for his "ideas"?
She hesitated for less than two seconds before writing: Yes.

[Compatibility Update: 72%]

She suddenly realized.

This is not about "judging" whether a person is genuine or not.

Rather, it's about determining whether you truly "understand" him—that you see his complex multifaceted nature, yet are still willing to integrate these contradictions into a complete personality, without escaping or distorting them.

The mirror in front of her trembled slightly.

It's not a crack, but rather as if a vague "impression outline" is forming.

Meanwhile, something happened to Selene.

She completed Lin Wanqing's questionnaire.

Q: Does she dislike you?
She wrote down almost without hesitation: "Of course."

[Compatibility Update: 48%]

The next question will pop up automatically.

Q: Are you willing to trust her to keep secrets during a crisis?

"Of course not," she scoffed.

[Compatibility: 42%]

Snapped!
The edge of the mirror trembled violently, and a clear crack spread from the upper right corner, like an out-of-control electrocardiogram, tearing the glass inch by inch.

Lin Wanqing stood up abruptly, her voice trembling but firm:
"Stop!"

"You're answering your 'imagined me'—it's not me!"

Selene frowned, her eyes instantly turning sharp: "But I just don't believe you."

“This isn’t a matter of trust.” Lin Wanqing gritted her teeth, forcing herself not to look away from that gaze. “It’s that you don’t understand me.”

"Understanding is not the same as liking or forgiving."

"They know why I don't speak up, why I hesitate in every decision, and why I don't stand at the forefront."

"Because I am not you," she added softly, as if revealing a truth that had been weighing on her heart for a long time.

Selene's pupils dilated slightly.

That was the first time she saw in Lin Wanqing—not cowardice, but an inexplicable silent courage.

She gripped her pen tightly and slowly rewrote the answer.

She didn't speak, but her breathing became deeper.

The system displayed a new prompt:

[Compatibility: 96%]

The cracks in the mirror stopped spreading, and it trembled slightly, as if someone behind it had breathed a sigh of relief.

【System prompt】

The personality mirror image has been constructed.

All compatibility is ≥ 80%.

The misalignment probability has been cleared.

The current treatment phase is classified as "stable state".

The mirror in front of the sofa, which was originally covered in cracks, trembled slightly. The cracks no longer flared up, but slowly melted away like a glacier returning to spring.

A halo of light, like ripples on water, shimmered on the mirror, casting the reflections of everyone.

—No delays, no breaks, no ambiguity.

They reflected each other and finally saw the version of themselves that belonged to "now".

The mirror rotated gently, making a "click" sound like breathing.

The wall slid open automatically, slowly revealing a hidden passage.

The soft light, like a flame being lifted up, gradually illuminates the path ahead from the end of the passageway.

Si Ming let out a long sigh of relief and turned to look at Lin Wanqing.

She remained seated, her notebook closed on her lap, her back ramrod straight.

Her hands were still trembling, but she no longer tried to hide it, instead openly exposing the trembling under the light.

She said softly:

"It wasn't me who did it."

"It was you... who were willing to let me see."

At that moment, she was no longer the recorder who hid in the position of an observer and wrote analysis reports.

She is a participant on this stage.

Everyone stood up and prepared to leave.

But the moment he stepped out of the testing room—

The God of Fate suddenly turned his head.

"You saw it?" Lynn asked in a low voice.

He nodded.

At the far end of the corridor, behind the observation glass that was originally shrouded in darkness, stood a figure.

He remained motionless and silent, as if he had been watching and waiting all along.

Wang Yichen.

He didn't hide, nor did he back down; he simply stood there quietly.
Looking at the crowd, at the group that had just completed a self-reconstruction.

His gaze fell on Lin Wanqing.

In that instant, four completely different emotions surfaced on his face, pressing down on it like a tidal wave:
greedy.

It was as if they were examining a highly valuable experimental object, measuring every inch of its cracks.

regret.

It's like someone who wants to say "I'm sorry," but already knows that the apology will be useless.

determination.

He wasn't just a spectator. He participated. And he'll continue to participate.

And there is still a glimmer—

Disdainful.

A slight twitch appeared at the corner of his mouth, as if to say:

“You wrote down who is who.”

"But how do you know that what you wrote down... is true?"

For a moment, everyone fell silent.

Si Ming stared at the shadow without saying a word.

Wang Yichen didn't linger; he turned and stepped into the darkness.

It's as if it never existed.

But the mirror remained in place, silently reflecting his lingering image.

—This game isn't over yet.

The people you see

It was him.

Or are you afraid of what he might become?

(End of this chapter)