mtl008 Chapter 4671 Desperate Escape (43)
Chapter 4671 Desperate Escape (43)
Chapter 4671 A Desperate Escape (Forty-Three)
A moment later, the lighting was restarted, and the level was illuminated again. The organizers' bodies were dragged to the central energy room one by one, but they did not linger there, as the situation was already clear.
The entire game was a corporate-organized, spectator-only battle royale. But the wealthy were not content to sit in the stands; they wanted to experience firsthand the thrill of being above the lives of others. The company initially disagreed, but the wealthy individual codenamed "Itachi" was secretly preparing a much larger party.
To avoid being implicated, the company reluctantly agreed to the wealthy individuals' decision to participate personally, and even invited "Itachi" to join the game. However, they secretly planted their own people among the other five wealthy individuals participating in the game, planning to tamper with the lantern level and throw the arrogant "Itachi" in front of the players to prevent him from doing anything more crazy or dangerous.
However, another mysterious force has arrived to disrupt things. Most players speculate that the armed hunter may be an agent sent by the FBI or other law enforcement organizations. They have already discovered the company's conspiracy and are using this opportunity to directly intervene and sabotage the game, while also collecting evidence of the company's crimes.
However, due to the inherent danger posed by the players, the agent did not reveal himself to them. The players, however, tacitly agreed to place the deceased tycoon's body in the central energy control room. This room, equipped with temperature control, would maintain the body's freshness, allowing them to immediately begin investigating the murder once authorities took over.
The agents should have already escaped and sought help from law enforcement. However, the company remains a watchful eye. Fearing that the company might send security personnel to hunt them down, the players dared not linger too long in the employee passageway, but instead returned to the levels to see what challenges awaited them.
The passage to the next level was still an elevator, taking players from different groups to different rooms. However, this time there was one more person among the players. Stark, who was the first to board the elevator, entered the room containing Anatoly's group, and everyone else had to follow suit.
So much so that by the time the last group, Batman and Superman, arrived, the elevator doors had already closed. They were unable to proceed to the next level.
“That’s fine,” Superman said. “Your body really can’t handle any more strenuous exercise.”
Superman helped Batman to a cubicle in the room with the lantern and sat him down. He said, "Let's stay here. If they dare send security over, I'm not without a chance."
Batman nodded. He knew he was at his limit, and engaging in any more strenuous activity would be suicidal. However, even though his body couldn't move, his mind was still working.
“There were probably three moles in the last game,” he said. “One was from the company, and one was from the secret service. But the one who set the lantern on fire must have been a mole from a third-party force.”
"This is truly a place where hidden talents abound," Superman exclaimed. "But who will be the third party?"
Although he had interacted with other players, the time was too short for in-depth communication, and Batman couldn't glean much information. However, he surmised that, judging from the mole's behavior, he didn't want anyone to leave alive, including the organizers, players, and possibly even himself. Otherwise, he wouldn't have set the fire at that particular moment.
Superman thought for a moment. He remembered that the lantern had been lit before it fell over. In that small space, with the fire burning so fiercely, the chances of survival were very low. In fact, if the lantern hadn't been blown away, the fire would have been the real killer; it would have burned one or two organizers to death.
"This proves that the person who took action was not a beneficiary, nor did they want to gain anything from it. They were either a clown-like madman, or they had some non-material interests at stake. I'm more inclined to believe the latter."
“Non-material benefits?” Superman thought for a moment and said, “Could it be religious sacrifices?”
Superman comes from the Midlands, where cults are relatively rampant. He often hears horror stories about small towns, where a cult member might sacrifice an entire town.
“If that’s the case, then they must have a base, and it’s probably right here in the checkpoint,” Batman said after thinking for a moment. “They wouldn’t have bothered to build their own employee access road; they must be using the company’s. And for easy access, the base wouldn’t be too far from where the employee access road converges. I think it might be above or below the central energy room.”
"So we're looking for hidden content now?" Superman said, rubbing his hands together excitedly. "That makes sense. Even if we can't beat the game, if we can find the hidden content, maybe we can write a walkthrough or something after we get out. Batman, would you give this game a good review?"
After resting for a while, Batman stood up and said, "Yes. Considering that he deliberately arranged for the part where he killed the rich man to vent his anger, I can raise the score to 7.5. It's a pretty good dungeon."
The two headed towards the next level, hoping to find a hidden room for cultists below.
Meanwhile, the five groups who had already arrived at the checkpoint room via elevator were surprised to find that this was still considered a cooperative checkpoint. Because now, the five groups, plus the organizer, were all in rooms at different heights along a long, narrow vertical corridor.
If we were to draw an analogy, it would be similar to the movie *The Platform*: players are located on different floors, and there's a central, open atrium. However, unlike the platform, there's no elevator constantly distributing food, and the atrium is enclosed by a semi-transparent resin material. Aside from a small opening large enough to stick out an arm, there's no way out.
However, because the enclosing material is semi-transparent, you can vaguely see the figures of the groups above and below, and you can also stick your hand out through the opening to greet them.
A chain hangs down from the center of the courtyard, just wide enough to grab if you extend your arm fully out of the courtyard. Looking up through a small opening, you can see a winch above the chain, meaning the chain moves up and down with the winch, like a vertical bicycle chain.
There's a door in the room of the level that requires a key. It seems the key can be obtained from the central courtyard, but how exactly to get it is currently unclear.
As soon as Stark stepped into the room, he knew he was in deep trouble. This level was the most unique of all, as it had six levels with a significant vertical drop. The crucial mechanism controlling the chains was on the lowest level, which also housed the employee entrance and maintenance room. However, because he had entered the level first, he was now on the top level. Without authorization, he couldn't get down.
He rubbed his face hard, and as soon as he brought it close to the small opening below, he saw a pair of blue eyes staring intently at him from the opening below. Stark gasped and took a few steps back. It was that damned Soviet!
He swallowed hard, intending to leave, but he couldn't explain why the organizer had died without cause. It didn't make sense in the plot, and if he got a bad review, "greed" wouldn't let him off the hook.
Stark's face hardened at the thought of this level. This was the level he had designed, arguably the most dangerous of all. Now he was truly reaping what he sowed.
Soon, a rumbling sound emanated from the top of the courtyard. The airflow and vibrations from the rotating mechanism were particularly terrifying, and the iron chains began to move downwards. Accompanying the approaching shadows were blades spinning wildly like a meat grinder.
Roughly every meter or so, a pair of blades hung parallel to the ground from an iron chain. The blades spun wildly, and without a doubt, anything that came near would be shredded. Now the entire courtyard was like a long, vertical meat grinder, the hum of countless blades overlapping, instilling a sense of dread.
A sharp-eyed person immediately noticed through the small hole that the key was hanging in the middle of the blade. In other words, they had to remove the key through the gap in the blade.
The chain doesn't move fast, but the blades are spaced too close together. A meter of space isn't enough for a person to extend and retract their arm. If they don't manage to retract it, their arm is gone.
The problem is that losing an arm is one thing, but if the arm is sliced off, the keys are definitely gone too. After observing for a while, they found that there were only six keys hanging on the chain, not one more.
In other words, if someone accidentally cuts off their arm and loses their keys, they're likely doomed and will also affect others.
Two people have four arms. If they're willing to go all out and use those four arms to cause trouble, they can at least throw away four keys. That would leave only two groups out of the six who can get out.
As of now, no one has quite figured out how to play. The gap between the blades is clearly within reach, but they can't retrieve them, making it seem like a dead end.
But soon, a trembling voice came from the top floor: "Someone has to remove a key so that the person at the bottom can get out. He can then slow down the chains in the next level."
Anatoly raised an eyebrow. Because the courtyard was sealed off, they couldn't stick their heads out, and the observation window was too small to peer through. From this angle, the people on higher floors couldn't see what was happening on the lower floors.
“The bottom one,” he shouted, “is yours sealed off?”
“I don’t have hinges here,” Bruce shouted. “There’s just an empty patio.”
Schiller and Bruce were on the lowest level. Their situation was different from the others: the skylight didn't extend through their floor, but rather opened in the ceiling. Chains didn't extend down; there were only mechanisms on the sides of the ceiling that constantly spewed out chains and blades, but most of the skylight was empty. They had no access to the mechanisms above from here.
If anything falls from above, it will eventually land here. Because the entire courtyard is basically sealed off, even if it gets hit by a blade and bounces off, it will be bounced back by the resin material and will eventually fall to the bottom.
"Why us of all people?" Bruce said irritably. "I hate this kind of situation where we just sit and wait to die."
His arm was still in a sling around his neck, clearly showing no signs of improvement. He scratched his head with his only intact hand and said, "Actually, if I were up there, I could have sent my arm out. Since I can't move it anyway, I might as well use it to exchange for the keys."
"Has the Batman syndrome flared up again?" Schiller asked.
Bruce shook his head and said, "When someone has to be sacrificed, we have no choice but to make use of waste."
“But have you forgotten? There’s also the organizer on the top floor,” Schiller said. “Wouldn’t it be best if he were the one to be sacrificed?”
"He'd never sacrifice himself!" Bruce said irritably. "People like him are so rotten they're practically dripping with rottenness, they'd never sacrifice themselves."
"Whether he sacrifices himself or not is not up to him to decide," Schiller said with a smile.