Chapter 18
Chapter 18
"You love your job—a role demanding fierce dedication and purpose. Through your lens, you've documented countless brutal realities, urging people to reclaim their conscience and end their apathy. But do you even care yourself? Are you a hypocrite hiding behind a false mask, or a true warrior?"
A toxin is now spreading through your body, devouring your life. As your metabolism accelerates upon waking, so will the poison's effects. You have roughly forty minutes to find this place's only exit. Let's see whether the man who's always hidden behind his camera can rely on his conscience to return to his family.
Life or death—make your choice."
Feng Bu Jue had already risen halfway through the recording, scanning his surroundings. He still wore the default black t-shirt and trousers of the game's protagonist class. Recalling cinematic clichés, he checked his pockets—still empty—as well as his satchel, which contained only a plastic syringe.
"Choice, my ass!" Feng Bu Jue spat after the message ended. Since this was a solo mode scenario with no penalty for cursing, he continued freely. Opening his inventory menu, he examined the cassette-equipped personal player:
Name: Cassette-equipped Personal Player
Type: Plot-related
Quality: —
Function: —
Can be taken out of scenario: Yes
Note: —
Another disposable plot item. Though he'd memorized the recording, he played it again carefully, unconcerned about wasting a few minutes. After the second listen, he stored the device back in his satchel. Considering there might be more cassettes later, it was safer to keep it.
The space around him was vast. The ceiling soared twelve meters or higher, fitted with massive exhaust fans letting in sunlight—but no climbable structures. The arched roof featured horizontal steel beams lined with glowing fluorescent lights. The walls were solid metal-plated concrete, impervious to brute force.
The system wouldn't generate scenarios escapable within minutes. If Feng Bu Jue had two unused charges of [Explosive Divine Fist] and his martial arts proficiency ranked F, the system would adapt—perhaps doubling the warehouse's wall thickness. Theoretically, he might escape using sheer power, though each punch had only a 20% success rate, and wall thickness remained unknown.
But the system eliminated such possibilities. Wang Tan Zhi, for instance, would never face this scenario. Any situation allowing immediate escape through initial character stats—no matter how improbable—would be rejected outright by the system's design.
Feng Bu Jue walked forward. The warehouse contained numerous shipping containers stacked up to three levels high, forming a single narrow path.
"Hmm... bad vibes", he muttered—not out of fear, but skepticism about the scenario's rewards. Even for ordinary players, this Saw-inspired setup likely caused minimal Terror Value spikes.
Jigsaw's games relied on "time" as terror's catalyst. Threats were visible, fear escalating with death's approach, lacking sudden shocks to spike Terror Values. Film characters often escaped through self-mutilation—combining physical pain with time pressure. But Terrifying Paradise players endured only minor pains: a hammer hitting a finger, or full-body bone pressure—endurable with gritted teeth.
Moreover, fans knew Jigsaw's true goal wasn't murder but "salvation." He used suffering to make wastrels cherish life. Following rules and enduring self-inflicted horrors guaranteed survival.
Considering this, Feng Bu Jue deduced the scenario's difficulty centered on "puzzles."
The system never forced guaranteed death in common difficulty modes. Scenario difficulty adjusted to player strength—multiplayer increased stakes.
For Feng Bu Jue—whose strength barely exceeded level 1 aside from stamina—it offered this challenge. Combat was impossible. Generating level-4-caliber monsters or bosses would be suicide. Solutions were clear: solve the puzzle, or sacrifice vitality to survive.
Following the container path, he reached a wall marked with an arrow pointing to a door partially blocked by a container. A narrow gap allowed sideways entry.
Checking his menu—vitality and stamina were nearly full. Toxin effects would drain vitality over time, but stamina remained stable.
He steadied his breath. Opening the door would trigger a "Jigsaw-style" game. Focus was essential.
Sliding sideways, he entered. A mechanical click sounded as the door closed automatically—whether by trap mechanism or system correction, he couldn't tell.
The room's center held a small wooden chair. Sitting on it was a doll resembling a child in a black suit, holding a newspaper. Its face was pale, with black sclera, blood-red pupils, spiral-shaped red marks on its cheeks, and unnaturally vivid crimson lips.
While eerie at night, the doll seemed harmless unless it attacked.
"Hello, Arthur. Choosing action over passivity, listen carefully", the doll's recorder activated. "You've seen the operating machine..."
Feng Bu Jue turned to a washer-sized machine nearby. A dish-sized circular opening at its top revealed two interlocking gear rows, rotating inward like converging waterfalls. Powerful enough to crush wood or scrap metal, their torque was evident.
Above the opening, a countdown timer ticked down from five minutes. Beside it, a scale marked "KG" sat at zero.
"This machine unlocks the next room by crushing objects. Throw in at least fifteen kilograms, and the door opens. Cut power or let time expire, and it stops permanently..."
Feng Bu Jue searched for materials. Besides the chair and doll, his eyes caught an iron cage welded to the floor containing a deeply anesthetized Tibetan macaque—ten kilograms.
"You'll first discard the doll and chair—7.5 kilograms combined..."
He grabbed the newspaper from the doll. The headline screamed: "They Are Not Your Dinner!" Below, a photo showed the caged macaque's pleading gaze. The author? Arthur Sieger.
"You condemned poachers and branded wildlife product buyers as lavish executioners. Yet on your 'investigative' travels, you dined on protected species. Your wife's closet holds multiple fur coats. You witnessed slaughter yet watched coldly.
"Now, experience being a true executioner. Sacrifice this animal for survival. Choose, Arthur."
The recording cut off. Feng Bu Jue kept reading—the system-generated article's details were oddly compelling...
(End of Chapter)
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