Bai Youwei wrinkled her brow in frustration. “Every option is a possibility—and the reason we’re in this mess is because that question was terrible.”

She looked toward the Clown and said with open displeasure, “There’s a balance problem with this game. If my teammate happens to be on the other side of one of those doors, and they get eliminated because this side made a stupid guess—what kind of justice is that? That’s completely unfair!”

The Clown wobbled along on its tiny unicycle, that wide red gash of a mouth cackling away. “Not to worry, not to worry~ it’s a minor matter~ The game system will make the appropriate adjustments~!”

“So you’re saying… when I ask my question, my teammate will be the one answering on the other side?” Bai Youwei pressed, frowning.

“Maybe, maybe not—who knows~?” The Clown snickered. “As your referee, I’ve already explained all the rules. The rest—I can choose to tell you, or I can choose not to~. Hehehehehehe…”

Bai Youwei: “…”

On the other side, the blond man was still agonizing over which answer to choose.

Hans told him, “Since every option is a possibility, just go with your gut.”

The blond man walked past each door, deliberated for a long moment, and ultimately chose B.

【B: Not sure—maybe dozens of trillions.】

In truth, Bai Youwei also thought that answer felt most like a genuine response—but when something wasn’t one hundred percent certain, there was always a chance of being wrong.

The Clown said with a grin, “Once you’ve made your decision, open the door you’ve chosen~!”

The blond man looked at his companions, then at Hans, and finally steeled himself. He grabbed the door handle, twisted it, pushed it open—

The room on the other side was empty.

The blond man stood frozen.

A second later—his neck split open without warning. Blood erupted from the wound without warning.

Like a human fountain, he crashed straight to the floor.

Everyone was horrified.

“This—this was just supposed to be elimination! How did it come to this?!”

“Why is he dead?! And what about the person inside—are they dead too?!”

“Does choosing the wrong answer just… kill you?!”

The room erupted into chaos.

Hans stared at the referee, his face grave. “You never said a wrong answer meant death.”

“Didn’t I?” The Clown grinned. “I said that choosing the wrong answer results in both inside and outside players being eliminated together. What’s the difference between death and elimination?”

Hans’s expression darkened further. He felt mocked—though this wasn’t the first time the referee had pulled something like this over the course of the games, so he stayed relatively composed, keeping his anger in check.

He steadied his remaining three teammates. “Don’t forget—sacrifice during the game is inevitable. As long as we win in the end, everything we’ve lost will come back. Even the dead will be reborn.”

At those words, the tension in the others visibly eased.

“That’s right… As long as we win in the end, the world can go back to the way it was—everyone who died can come back to life!”

Standing off to the side, Bai Youwei curled her lip slightly. These people really were full of ideals…

“Hey—we’ve already had one round of questioning. Next round, you ask!” The man called Morlin snapped at Bai Youwei. “That’s only fair!”

“Fair?” Bai Youwei smiled lightly. “How is that fair? I only have one subject—which means I effectively get one chance to ask. The moment I choose wrong, I’m out. But you? You have four chances. Unless your King is eliminated, no matter how many subjects die, the King stays in the game!”

She reached into her bag, pulled out a small cotton cushion, set it on the floor, and sat down on it—arms wrapped around her knees, looking entirely like someone enjoying a show.

“You all go ahead and ask~,” Bai Youwei said with a smile. “I’m absolutely not going second.”

—