254: Chapter 254 The Death Playground Opens!

The next day.

On the second floor of the rest hall, along the circular steel walkway.

Lin Shuyin bit the end of her pen, the lenses of her rimless glasses reflecting white light under the cold illumination. She leaned most of her body over the railing, scanning the activity on the first floor from above.

In the public area in the northwest corner.

David from Israel held a cup of black coffee, whispering with Hunter from Team USA. David's face was beaming with a bright smile, looking just like a sunny young man selling insurance.

A few steps away, Shar was pressed close to Leon from the French team and Arthur from the British team, her red lips moving as she poured out some kind of bewitching nonsense.

Several foreign teams that originally couldn't stand each other had now vaguely formed a loose circle.

Lin Shuyin opened the notebook on her lap, circled the symbols representing different countries, and then slashed a big red X over them.

The pen tip tore through the paper.

"They've banded together." Lin Shuyin pushed up her glasses and spat out the three words.

After being crushed by Li Li in the Liquid Nitrogen Zone during the first round, these foreigners had suffered enough from acting alone. Now their brains had finally clicked, and they were preparing to form alliances to cause trouble.

To demonstrate "humanitarianism," the event organizers had equipped the rest area with a top-tier indoor gym, plus two massive, temperature-controlled swimming pools separated by gender.

Lin Shuyin had given a strict order last night: all members of the Chinese team were forbidden from using any high-intensity equipment. If you can lie down, don't sit; keep physical exertion to a minimum.

But Yin Ruoying wouldn't have it.

This short-drama queen had a very unique train of thought: not using the free luxury pool was equivalent to losing money. If she didn't fleece the event organizers for every penny, she'd wake up in the middle of the night and slap herself twice.

An hour later.

A violent splashing sound erupted from the deep end of the women's pool.

Yin Ruoying floundered wildly in the water, choking on several mouthfuls of chlorinated water. Her prized Hong Kong-style curls were plastered to her face like seaweed, and she looked utterly wretched.

Around her, the four women—Shar and Leah from Israel, and Mia and Chloe from the US—positioned themselves at the four cardinal directions.

On the surface, they were laughing and having a water fight, but their actions underwater were extremely vicious.

Four pairs of legs churned frantically underwater, forcibly creating a small vortex. Shar even took advantage of the splashing to drop her shoulder and slam it hard into Yin Ruoying's ribs.

Rule No. 8: You cannot physically assault or harm other contestants.

But it didn't say you couldn't have an "accidental" physical collision in the pool.

"Cough, cough... you... glug..."

Yin Ruoying's bright red nails clawed frantically at the water's surface. She couldn't even manage a full curse word; her energy was draining rapidly, and her body was sinking uncontrollably.

The water surface suddenly broke.

A thick, powerful arm thrust in from the side, fingers clawed, grabbing the shoulder strap of Yin Ruoying's swimsuit.

Lifting her up.

"Splash!"

Anya from the Russian team plucked Yin Ruoying out of the deep end with one hand, just like pulling a radish.

This rock-climbing fanatic hauled the hundred-plus-pound Yin Ruoying, waded through the waist-deep water, and tossed her onto the anti-slip tiles on the bank.

Anya turned around, wiped the water from her face, and raised a perfectly standard middle finger at the four women in the water.

"Bitch."

The authentic Russian rolling 'r' made it incredibly lethal.

The four women exchanged glances, didn't dare to make a sound, and quickly dispersed.

Evening, Container No. 001.

Yin Ruoying was wrapped in a thick wool blanket, her hair still dripping. She sneezed three earth-shattering times in a row.

"Fuck them!"

Former Middleweight Boxing Champion kicked the iron bed frame.

With a loud "clang," the bed frame shook violently.

"These bastards are playing dirty! I'm going to go punch David's face into his stomach right now!"

In the corner, Lei Zhen said nothing. He twisted his hands together, silently cracking his knuckles, which popped like popping beans. He looked just like a bulldozer ready for demolition.

"Sit down."

Lin Shuyin sat on a plastic stool, her ballpoint pen calculating rapidly on the paper without her even looking up.

"Rule No. 8: No physical assault or harm. If you go out and punch him now, you'll trigger the alarm immediately, get disqualified, and your points will be wiped to zero."

"So we're just going to sit here and take it?!"

Former Middleweight Boxing Champion's neck veins were bulging.

"Take it."

Lin Shuyin closed the notebook and tapped the pen handle heavily on the table.

"They're doing this to fish for a reaction—whoever strikes first is out. If you want revenge, take it during the game. Exploiting loopholes in the rules to trap them and eliminating them without loss is the most efficient tactic."

Domestic TikTok live stream room.

[Lin-shen's brain is so clear! This is real crowd control!]

[With Former Middleweight Boxing Champion's explosive temper, if Lin Shuyin weren't holding him back, he would have quit the competition eight hundred times already.]

[Wait, where is Dean Li? Why haven't I heard him say anything?]

[To the one above, have you ever seen a top-tier assassin making a racket before a team fight? Dean Li must be charging up his ultimate!]

At this moment, Dean Li was lying spread-eagle on the iron bunk bed on the left.

His face was covered by a copy of "History of Middle East Architecture" he had swiped from the hall bookshelf. His chest rose and fell rhythmically; he was sleeping extremely peacefully, even snoring slightly.

Noon on the third day.

The iron door was knocked. A red-clad NPC pushed a metal food cart into the room.

The lid was lifted.

There was no difference in point levels like in the first round, and no dry compressed biscuits.

It was all a luxury feast.

On the folding table in Room 001, there was steaming Chongqing-style Hotpot, Peking duck sliced as thin as cicada wings, and even two cups of iced Youlan Latte on the side.

Jiang Rumu just picked up her chopsticks, then froze.

Dean Li ripped the book off his face, sat up, and scanned the table.

"The last meal before execution." The two said in unison.

Next door, Room 333.

Lin Shuyin stared at the Black Forest cake and French fries on the table. She gulped hard, forcing her gaze toward the white wall.

"High sugar, high fat, high carbs."

Lin Shuyin rattled off to her roommate Lei Zhen, speaking as fast as a machine gun.

"Within ten minutes of eating, blood sugar will skyrocket, insulin will be secreted in large quantities, and neural reaction speed will drop by at least twenty percent. If the upcoming game involves strenuous exercise, blood flow to the stomach will cause gastric spasms and projectile vomiting."

Lei Zhen looked at the glistening, oily pork knuckle in his hand, sighed, and silently put it back on the plate.

He turned around, pulled a raw cucumber from his backpack, and began to crunch on it.

The entire Chinese team, following Lin Shuyin's urgent request, tacitly initiated a fasting mode.

Except for Room 113.

Gu Zeyan had been hungry for a whole day; his eyes were practically glowing green.

Looking at the fried chicken legs, creamy mushroom pasta, and double-cheese pizza on the table, the string of "body management" in this top idol's brain snapped completely.

His left hand grabbed a chicken leg bigger than his face, while his right hand twirled a huge glob of cream-covered pasta, stuffing it frantically into his mouth.

His mouth was covered in oil, and his cheeks were bulging like a hamster's.

"Sister Ruoying, are you really not eating?" Gu Zeyan asked indistinctly, not forgetting to shove a piece of pizza into his mouth.

Yin Ruoying was wrapped in a quilt, leaning against the corner.

Between choking on water last night and catching a cold, she had a splitting headache. She rolled her eyes, not even having the energy to scold this idiot.

With no one to fight for it, Gu Zeyan was happy to enjoy it alone.

He single-handedly wiped out a two-person portion of carb bombs. Leaning against the headboard, he let out an incredibly loud burp; his stomach felt heavy, full of satisfaction.

Two o'clock in the afternoon.

A harsh crackle of electricity exploded over the hall.

"Please have all players gather in the hall. The second game is about to begin."

The mechanical female voice was devoid of inflection, like a death knell.

Everyone pushed open their doors and stepped out.

In the center of the hall, rows of masked red-clad NPCs stood straight, holding black trays.

"Players, please collect and wear your new live-streaming equipment and take the mystery gift box. The box must be opened in the game arena; opening it early will result in immediate disqualification."

Li Li stepped forward and picked up the GoPro head-mounted camera from the tray.

The device was lighter than the one in the first round, but the structure had clearly changed.

Li Li turned the device over and felt the back with his finger. There was a palm-sized LED screen embedded there, currently blank.

Jiang Rumu leaned over and tapped the screen with her fingertip.

"What is this thing for? A turn signal for the car behind?"

"Who knows." Li Li casually strapped the device to his head and adjusted the band. "Maybe to make it easier for others to aim for a headshot."

He then picked up the mystery gift box—a black case with purple square, circle, and triangle patterns. It was very light; Li Li didn't know what it was.

[This screen is definitely a trap! The event organizers wouldn't add useless weight!]

[I'm guessing it displays health bars.]

[What if it's a heart rate monitor? It lights up red when you're scared?]

Equipment was worn.

The lead NPC with the circle mask turned and walked toward the massive metal door that had been kept shut deep in the hall.

"Please follow me."

The crowd followed in a massive procession.

Behind the metal door was a wide but structurally complex concrete corridor.

There were no windows, no signs. Only the cold light overhead flickered.

The team followed the NPC, going up and down, turning left and right.

They walked for a full ten minutes.

In this enclosed space, everyone's sense of direction was completely stripped away.

Gu Zeyan walked in the middle of the group.

The undigested fried chicken, creamy pasta, and thick cheese in his stomach bounced up and down with every step he took down the stairs.

A greasy sensation pushed up his esophagus.

Gu Zeyan clutched his stomach, his face turning pale.

At the end of the corridor, it suddenly opened up.

A double-leafed colorful door blocked the way ahead, painted with an exaggerated cartoon clown face, its grin stretching to its ears.

The NPC pushed open the door.

Noisy electronic music, the roar of machinery, and colorful neon lights hit everyone in the face like a tsunami.

The whole place was dead silent for two seconds.

Then, massive gasps and intakes of breath erupted.

It was an indoor playground so large that it completely defied architectural logic!

The dome was extremely high, estimated to be over fifty meters. The massive load-bearing pillars supporting the space were painted like colorful candy canes.

On the left, a luxurious two-story carousel, flashing with blinding white light, was in operation.

On the right, in the bumper car area, blue sparks crackled between the antenna on the car roofs and the power grid; the sizzling sound made one's scalp tingle.

Straight ahead, a green drop tower pierced the dome, its red light blinking at the top.

And the most shocking, leg-weakening sight was a giant red roller coaster track that wove through the entire indoor space.

The thick steel rails twisted crazily in mid-air.

Three consecutive 360-degree loops, followed by a death-defying drop at a nearly 90-degree vertical angle.

"Boom—"

An empty red roller coaster car whistled past over their heads, whipping up a gust of wind that stung their cheeks.

"Welcome to the playground."

A cheerful yet eerie electronic child's voice echoed in 3D surround sound throughout the space.

At the back of the crowd, Gu Zeyan looked up.

His gaze was nailed to that 90-degree vertical drop of red track.

A scene involuntarily appeared in his mind: himself tied to the seat, plummeting toward the ground head-first at a speed of 120 kilometers per hour.

The half-digested mess of fried chicken, cream, and cheese in his stomach instantly underwent a violent chemical reaction.

A wave of acid surged straight up his throat.

Gu Zeyan's face turned deathly pale, completely devoid of color, and his Adam's apple bobbed frantically.

He suddenly clutched his mouth with both hands, his cheeks puffed out, his eyes wide open, and he doubled over in pain like a shrimp.