241: Chapter 241 Exploiting Loopholes in the Rules? Li Li: Flipping the table empty-handed is just handing over food!

"Snap." The strawberry-flavored gummy burst between his teeth, and its cloying fragrance diffused into the sweltering air.

Said's hand, suspended in mid-air, froze. For three whole seconds.

The Oman chieftain flicked his wrist slightly, the cuffs of his wide, gold-trimmed black robe falling, and he naturally clasped his hands behind his back.

"Mr. Li Li is truly a humorous man." Said nodded slightly, his smile undiminished, "I hope that on the competition field, your luck will be as good as your sense of humor."

Sama lagged half a step behind, and the moment she turned, her gaze swept across Li Li's carotid artery like a razor blade.

Li Li clamped his jaws together, chewing the gummy to bits. With one hand, he crumpled the candy wrapper into a ball, hooked his thumb against his index finger, and flicked it.

The wrapper traced a parabola through the air.

"Plop." It landed precisely inside a metal trash can ten meters away.

"Let's go." Li Li brushed the sugar dust off his fingertips, "Time to go pick up our starter gear."

The ten people in the East University formation pushed their luggage, moving toward the perimeter of the tarmac under the scorching sun.

Fifty pitch-black buses were parked on the perimeter, their windows covered in opaque, pitch-black privacy film, looking like a row of steel coffins lying horizontally on the tarmac.

In front of the bus doors stood rows of people in red. They wore one-piece red jumpsuits and black masks, with ghastly white circles, triangles, or squares printed on the masks.

The noisy contestants from smaller countries around them slowed their pace unconsciously.

Hunter Smith of the US team was swallowing the last half of a live centipede. He worked his cheeks twice and gave the red-clad figures a thumbs-down.

"Is this it? I thought we were going to be fighting Terminators hand-to-hand, but it turns out to be low-budget cosplay?"

Chu Lingfeng whistled and threw his backpack over his shoulder with one hand.

"It's thirty-seven degrees in Jeju Island, and we're wearing these suffocating jumpsuits. If we get heat rash, who's going to count it as a work injury?"

Lu Ye walked at the very front, still holding the two metal forks he had swiped from the plane. He stopped in front of a red-clad figure with a square printed on their mask.

The red-clad figure stood straight, holding a black, custom-made tranquilizer submachine gun in both hands, not even showing the rise and fall of a chest. Lu Ye leaned in and twitched his nose twice. No scent of a living person.

He raised his hand and poked the metal handle of the fork hard against the red-clad figure's chest.

"Clang, clang." A heavy, metallic sound of impact rang out. The red-clad figure didn't budge, nor did the angle of the mask shift even a fraction.

Lu Ye suddenly felt bored, shoved the forks back into his pocket, and turned to wave at his teammates behind him.

"It's just a tin can wearing a red vest. Doesn't even have a heartbeat. Boring."

The live stream comments went wild.

[Brother Lu's method of testing the waters is legendary! Using an airline fork to poke cutting-edge Sino-US technology!]

[NPC: Physical attack detected, damage value 0, highly insulting.]

[Good grief, a multi-million dollar bionic android is being used as a percussion instrument!]

A long line formed in front of the buses. Lei Zhen switched Lin Shuyin's pink backpack to his left shoulder, his fleshy face scrunching up.

"How exactly does this game work? It wouldn't actually be like in the TV shows where you get gunned down if you lose, right?"

Former Middleweight Boxing Champion flexed his wrists, his knuckles popping like firecrackers.

"They definitely wouldn't dare use real guns and live ammo, with three billion people watching globally. But didn't the rules mention tranquilizer guns?"

Former Middleweight Boxing Champion lifted his chin slightly, gesturing toward the weapon in the NPC's hands, "One shot and you're asleep for three hours. Out here in the middle of nowhere, if you fall asleep in the middle of the road and get run over, or drown in a puddle, the organizing committee can just call it an 'accident' and wash their hands of any responsibility."

Gu Ya tucked her skateboard under her arm and chimed in with her analysis.

"The core is still an elimination system. The first round is Red Light, Green Light; in the original version, it was shooting to kill, here it's probably shooting with tranquilizers. As long as we wear others down until they fall asleep, we can advance."

Lin Shuyin walked at the back, holding a tablet; the screen was densely packed with code and probability trees. She suddenly stopped and reached out to grab the back hem of Li Li's white tank top. Li Li was forced to brake. "What is it?"

Lin Shuyin pushed her frameless glasses up by the bridge with her knuckle, the light from the tablet screen reflecting on the lenses.

"I just built a model." She spoke at a rapid pace, like an emotionless broadcast machine, "After inputting the basic data of all nine hundred and thirty people present, I concluded: The probability of you getting the highest score in the first round is ninety-nine point nine percent."

Li Li let out a scoff through his nose. "And what about that remaining zero point one percent?"

"You get abducted by aliens." Lin Shuyin said expressionlessly, her finger swiping across the screen to pull up the underlying logic diagram of the "Petroleum Championship Rules."

"Let's talk business. Look at Article Eleven. 'After a game begins, only after there are winners/escapees will it be known in which country the next game venue will be held'."

Lin Shuyin emphasized the words in the middle. "Winners, slash, escapees."

Li Li's gaze swept over that line of text.

"This means there is more than one way to clear the game." Lin Shuyin answered her own question, "According to conventional thinking, completing the game instructions and surviving to the end is called winning. But the rules specifically added the word 'escapees.' In the original TV show, there were plot points where police infiltrated and tried to escape. This means that when the organizing committee designed the game venue, they must have reserved a 'means of escape' in the physical sense."

She looked up and stared straight at Li Li.

"We don't have to play by their rules."

"As long as we find the passage, we can just flip the table and escape the game venue. That counts as clearing the game too."

Li Li pushed the tablet away and reached up to scratch his already messy, short-cropped hair.

"The theory is very full," he said, pouring cold water on her, "but didn't you forget one thing?"

He tilted his head and pointed to the front left. Marcus of the US team was staring fixedly at them, his sandbag-sized fists clenched tightly. He then pointed to the front right. Ivan Volkov from Russia was like a brown bear ready to pounce, his gaze locked entirely on Li Li. Further away, several gazes from the Japanese and Korean teams were also piercing over without any attempt at concealment.

"Right now, we have no weapons and no map. We don't even know what the game venue looks like. Even if there is an escape passage, it would definitely be heavily guarded and full of traps."

Li Li shoved his hands into his cargo pants pockets. "No tranquilizer gun, no equipment, and you want to go flip the table empty-handed? That's just delivering yourself on a platter."

"Let's get on the bus first and see how they deal the cards. Once we have guns in our hands, then we can talk about flipping the table."

Lin Shuyin put away the tablet and nodded. "Reasonable. Before obtaining enough variables, remaining still is the best strategy."

Everyone boarded the black bus one by one. There were no seats inside the carriage, only rows of cold, hard metal lockers. The red-clad NPC stood at the end of the carriage, with several huge black carts placed next to them.

"Everyone, surrender your personal items." The speaker on the roof emitted a flat, synthetic voice, "Change into the designated competition uniforms, watches, and head-mounted cameras. Carrying any personal electronic devices, weapons, or contraband is prohibited."

Jiang Rumu took off her thirty-kilogram tactical backpack and tossed it into the cart with one hand. With a dull "thud," the cart's chassis even wobbled.

The NPC handed her a vacuum-sealed plastic bag. Li Li also surrendered that child's doodle suitcase with half a sunflower sticker on it and took the plastic bag. He tore it open. A white and green tracksuit fell out. The fabric was so thin it was translucent, and it felt as rough as sandpaper.

He shook out the jacket. Three black numbers were printed on the left chest. [001].

Beside him, Jiang Rumu had also changed. Her figure was tall, and she somehow wore the baggy tracksuit with the crispness of a high-fashion trench coat. She looked down at her own chest. [930]. The very last place in the entire group.

Jiang Rumu looked up, her gaze meeting the numbers on Li Li's chest, and she raised an eyebrow.

"001?" Jiang Rumu lowered her voice, "What are they basing these numbers on? Looks?"

Li Li zipped his jacket to the top and casually adjusted the collar. "Probably based on hate levels." His tone was relaxed, "The Americans and Israel are terrified that those NATO lackeys won't be able to find me in the crowd, so they specifically hung the number-one target on me. This number, how conspicuous."

This airy remark fell into the broadcast equipment, and the internet comments exploded.

[Holy crap! 001! Isn't that the number of the old man who was the big boss behind the scenes in the original show!]

[The officials are really throwing shade, aren't they! How much must the Americans hate Dean Li!]

[Got it, everyone else is here for a Battle Royale, Dean Li is here to inspect his own property.]

[Mumu is 930, and there are 930 people in total. These two are at the beginning and the end, locked together!]

In the back of the carriage, Gu Ya was tugging at the sleeve of her tracksuit, her face full of disgust. "What kind of crappy fabric is this? The static electricity is making my hair stand on end."

She flipped the sleeve over and pointed to a pattern on it. On the outside of the right arm, a large blue logo was printed. SAMSUNG. Looking at the trouser leg, there was the Hyundai Motor logo. On the back, there were a few gaudy, local South Korean chaebol trademarks.

Gu Ya was speechless to the extreme. "Is this a competition uniform or a race car driver's sponsorship suit? The South Koreans really haven't changed their habit of slipping in their own private goods. They even want to earn an advertising fee from this?"

Former Middleweight Boxing Champion pulled the tracksuit over his body by the collar, his well-developed latissimus dorsi muscles stretching the fabric until it was about to burst at the seams. He looked down at the Samsung logo on his chest and let out a cold laugh. "Stop complaining." Former Middleweight Boxing Champion patted his chest, making a loud thudding sound. "This Battle Royale is being paid for by Samsung's Young Master Li."

As soon as he finished speaking, the bus doors slammed shut. The pitch-black privacy film blocked out the daylight, leaving only the ghastly white LED light strips inside the carriage. The engine roared, and the vehicle lunged forward. The first round, officially begun.