Chapter 22 : Who Exactly Is the Boss?

Although it was difficult, Ming Po still decided to personally give it a try.

With an extremely awkward posture, he practically sprawled against the slippery wall of the swimming pool, his other hand struggling to reach upward and grope around.

His left hand could barely reach the top of the pool, but he could not touch the key at all.

After trying twice more, Ming Po decisively withdrew his left hand.

There was no need to waste any more stamina.

A seventy-centimeter chain, a 2.2-meter-deep swimming pool… This seemed to be a height the other party had calculated.

That person had deliberately placed the key at a position that, given his height, he would just barely be unable to reach!

If he wanted to get that key down, he had to wait until the water rose high enough.

And he could not use his hand. He had to rely on his feet, using the buoyancy of the water to float his body high enough. Then he would sweep the key into the water with his leg, hold his breath, dive into this black-red water, and find the key.

This was almost impossible to accomplish.

It was filled with malice.

This should have been the plot designed by the person who wrote this scenario.

“Looks like you’ve realized it… You know what you need to do now.”

That distorted synthesized voice let out a delighted sound. “If you truly wait for the water to rise, you’ll be facing certain death with only the slimmest chance of survival.

“But the great ‘Lord Death’ has decided to grant you mercy.

“You still have another path.

“As they say, ‘the one who tied the bell must untie it.’ While the water has not yet risen, take a look at what’s different about the tile connected to the chain.”

Ming Po realized something, so he lowered his head, squatted down, and reached out with his left hand to search around.

The back of his right hand was already bleeding. That earlier tug had affected him greatly, tearing open a large patch of skin. The only good news was that the low temperature was slowing the speed of blood loss.

After a few moments, Ming Po realized what that voice wanted him to find.

It was a broken tile.

Its shape resembled a seashell. Using it to cut through the iron chain was impossible.

But it had another use.

…That was to cut off his own thumb.

Although the broken tile was also sharp, its hardness was insufficient. It was impossible to use it to chop open or cut through a thumb in one go.

He would need to grind away bit by bit, sawing through flesh and blood, or picking apart the tendons.

If he did that, he could escape from the shackles as well.

Was he to choose a short and near sacrifice, harming his own flesh in exchange for a chance to shed his tail like a gecko?

Or was he to wait quietly for death to approach, gambling that his physical strength would still be enough to last until the right timing arrived?

“…Heh.”

Ming Po smiled mockingly.

He casually stuffed the tile into his pocket, then crouched down.

“Looks like in the end, you still couldn’t bear to hurt yourself, choosing the path of a coward!”

That voice laughed with schadenfreude. “You abandoned short pain and chose long pain but is it really possible for a person to squat in ice water for an hour, waiting for the water level to slowly rise, then float in the water for another two hours?

“If you do this, there will be no turning back! Or perhaps, that might be the path of a warrior?”

“Wait, what are you doing?”

Ming Po ignored him and directly tied the shoelaces of his sneakers together.

Immediately afterward, he took off both shoes.

Like swinging a flail, he held one shoe and swung the other.

In just a few swings, he hooked the key down.

The key had not even hit the ground before Ming Po caught it in midair.

He raised his wrist and used the key to unlock the shackle on it.

Then he straightened his body and raised his middle finger toward the sky above from afar.

“—Dumbass.”

Ming Po mocked him bluntly.

He smiled sarcastically. “What a crude imitation.”

As he spoke, he unhurriedly put his shoes back on.

At this moment, the water had not even risen to his ankles.

The person over the speaker seemed to have already been angered to death by Ming Po.

Until Ming Po left the swimming pool, poured the water out of his shoes outside, and took off the sweater that had been soaked by water, he did not hear the person say another word.

And only at this moment did Ming Po finally see the full picture of this space clearly.

This place looked like an underground research institute.

Aside from that enormous “water prison,” which looked like a swimming pool, there was also a strange, huge “steel wool ball” placed up ahead.

Ming Po slowly paced forward and leaned in to observe it.

It was a massive ball of steel wire, roughly half a person’s height in diameter.

Every strand of wire was covered densely with sharp spikes. It looked like thorns. This was a little like those old anti-theft wire nets used to stop people from climbing walls.

And right at the very center of the wire hung a key.

Under the illumination of large amounts of deep crimson light, the wire looked as if it was covered in blood.

“Heh heh…”

It seemed the other party had recovered.

That voice sounded from the speaker once more. “Don’t get too proud, cheater. Your little cleverness let you pass the first stage, but this is far from the end.”

“Hold on. How did I cheat? Explain that clearly.”

Ming Po replied without the slightest courtesy. “Not following your solution counts as cheating, does it? What kind of designer are you, trying to teach players how to play the game?

“Weren’t you the one who placed the key so close? You’re the one who didn’t test it properly. Did the key have to be placed by the pool? Why couldn’t you just make a timed mechanism?

“What if I refused the tile knife? Would this design become useless? Or were you planning to add another new mechanic afterward to force me to mutilate myself?”

Like an adviser criticizing a graduation project, Ming Po picked apart the design of this mechanism. “The tile knife shouldn’t be given out at this point. The water has only just reached my ankles. The fear in my heart still isn’t enough.”

Looking at this messy hollow sphere made of wire netting, Ming Po narrowed his eyes. “And if I’ve guessed correctly… this wire net and that water prison combined are the contents of the first stage… right?”

“Of course,” that voice said smugly. “The wire net will slowly tighten. You only have three minutes. Once that time is exceeded, the key will never be retrievable again.

“Originally, you should have made a painful choice here. This would have been your journey of atonement… But now, heh.”

As that person’s words fell, the ball of wire began to creak and slowly rotate inward.

This key placed in the middle of a barbed wire net was simply malicious.

Following the normal path, there were probably two ways for him to get here.

Either he risked drowning and waited until the water surface rose high enough for him to knock the key down, then dived into the water to find it and open the lock.

By that time, his energy should already be completely exhausted.

Without taking titles into account, even an ordinary person with a sturdy body, after enduring several hours like that, should have only half his life left by the time he climbed out. Low blood pressure and low blood sugar were even possible.

Without any time to rest, his hand would certainly tremble like he had Parkinson’s.

If he wanted to take the key out from inside, his entire arm would be left dripping with blood. And skin soaked through by the cold would lose elasticity and become abnormally fragile. Perhaps it might even be ground into a skeleton by the rotating wire.

And in the other situation… which was cutting off his thumb to escape, this would still be a difficult problem.

At that time, one of his hands would already be ruined.

Then he would have to make a dilemma-filled decision—should he use his already ruined right hand, which had completely lost precision and strength, to retrieve the key; or should he risk using his intact left hand to retrieve it?

If he used his right hand to retrieve the key, treating it as “waste utilization,” then the “waste” would very likely disappoint him. But if he used his left hand, then both hands might very likely be ruined.

However, Ming Po shoved his right hand in without the slightest hesitation!

He did not harbor a fluke mentality and observe the trajectory of the wire’s movement… he did not believe the other party would leave him such a “path to survival.” That could only be a vicious trap.

So he directly endured the grinding of those iron thorns. Countless bloody holes appeared on his right arm in an instant, and blood poured out like a stream in the blink of an eye.

When Ming Po pulled his right arm out, there were already more than a dozen tiny iron wires stuck in it.

Thick, dark blood seeped out drop by drop. The deepest wire had pierced at least five centimeters in.

Yet Ming Po did not make a sound.

“You like laughing, huh.”

The corners of Ming Po’s lips lifted slightly as he unhurriedly pulled the blood-covered iron wires out one by one with his left hand.

“It’s fine. Then laugh a little more. Soon, you won’t be able to laugh anymore.”

That voice was observing his actions in real time. Whether Ming Po was in the swimming pool or beside the wire net, his words were immediately heard by the other party.

This meant one thing. The other party’s method of hearing his voice was very likely on Ming Po himself.

From a design perspective… it was even very possible that the “game designer” was nearby.

Or rather, inside the “map” of this game.

After only a brief exchange, Ming Po had already profiled the other party’s image:

A young teenager, roughly fourteen to seventeen years old, most likely male. He thought highly of himself. He had mild chuunibyou tendencies, as well as paranoid tendencies, violent tendencies, and antisocial tendencies.

“I think you’d better call your parents.”

Ming Po said unhurriedly, “Otherwise, you’ll regret it.”

As expected, the other party was enraged. “Who will regret it remains to be seen!”

Resistant toward his parents. A strong desire to prove himself. Irritable personality. Fragile self-esteem. Very likely originating from pressure in his family of origin.

He had already roughly pieced together the outline of the matter in his mind.

Ming Po used his blood-covered left hand to touch his face, then revealed a ferocious smile toward the area above, one full of aggression.

In that instant, the other party did not react more violently. Instead, he fell silent for an instant.

He was afraid. At least for an instant, he had clearly feared Ming Po.

Ming Po understood.

Then this “Gu Tao” whom he was currently playing was either his father or his teacher.

In that case… was this hatred from domestic violence? Or simply from a strict father?

What a picture of fatherly kindness and filial piety

Thinking this, Ming Po held the blood-covered key and slowly walked toward the door.

His steps were slow and heavy, and his breathing had grown rough.

“Hide well, kid…”

He murmured softly, his low voice almost audible only to himself. “Don’t let me catch you…”

It was as if

The boss of this game was not the other party, but Ming Po.

(End of Chapter)