…Defective products?
…Malfunctions?
Beneath the cloak, that pale, featureless mask slowly lifted, staring directly at Bai Youwei’s position.
The air seemed to suddenly drop more than ten degrees, becoming abnormally cold.
Bai Youwei didn’t care. She spoke again: “I’m not deliberately picking a fight. If you don’t believe me, ask them—Tan Xiao, Teacher Cheng, wasn’t the ball we encountered last time deliberately unclear about the rules? Midway through it even changed frogs to tadpoles, right?”
“Right!” Tan Xiao was especially supportive, chiming in: “Said the ball-finding time was 20 seconds! But it wasn’t 20 seconds at all! Said frogs were coming, found it boring, then released a bunch of tadpoles! Completely just toying with people!”
Cheng Weicai sighed heavily: “Such behavior treats game rules as nothing, truly violates the principles of fairness.”
“Exactly!” Bai Youwei nodded firmly. “What if the questions you ask are all things we don’t know—asking us about relativity, quantum mechanics, mysteries of the universe—then we’re definitely just waiting to die!”
When she put it this way, others panicked too.
“The questions won’t be that difficult, will they?!”
“Damn! I didn’t even finish elementary school—asking those kinds of questions might as well kill me now!”
“This game talks about fairness but is actually deliberately torturing people!”
“So sick! If you want to kill just kill, why put on such a righteous act for show!”
“Killing people while making excuses for yourself…”
“I don’t want to answer questions! Let me go! I want to leave!…”
—BOOM!
A hurricane suddenly struck, and everyone was immediately pinned to their chairs!
The gale howled past their faces, making their skin tighten! Couldn’t even speak! Even breathing was suppressed!
It lasted more than ten seconds before the wind calmed and people finally caught their breath.
The monitor said flatly: “All questions are constructed from the knowledge base stored in the brains of the 36 players present. They will absolutely not exceed your cognition! All rules—I will explain them to you one by one!”
Its voice was low yet resonant and powerful, as if suppressing fire, speaking with absolute clarity, word by word! With force!
Wind and clouds surged beneath the gray robe, the hem of the garment flapping and rustling, reflecting the monitor’s currently angry emotions.
It asked hoarsely: “The quick-answer round is about to begin. Everyone, are you ready?”
No one spoke.
The monitor seemed satisfied with this. Sitting at the pointer’s axis point, it recited the first question—
“Question 1: What causes the changing seasons on Earth?”
As the question was recited, Bai Youwei discovered a square LCD screen appeared before her. The top of the screen displayed the number 4, and on the right side was a red button—presumably the buzzer.
She of course knew the answer, but she didn’t move.
Bai Youwei looked around and found that all the people on site had made no moves, each with eyes full of vigilance and scrutiny, not rushing to answer.
Shen Mo and Yan Qingwen were the same.
Even though this question was extremely, extremely simple.
With no one buzzing in, the gray-robed elder wasn’t anxious either, sitting quietly, motionless.
After a few seconds, a “beep” sounded across the venue—
Monitor: “Player 1, please answer.”
Bai Youwei turned her head to look.
Player 1 was Pan Xiaoxin.
When their group had been standing together, their seats were also arranged in sequence. From positions 1 to 8 were Pan Xiaoxin, Teacher Cheng, Tan Xiao, Bai Youwei, Shen Mo, Lu Ang, Yan Qingwen, and Zhu Shu.
Position 36 was Li Li.
Besides these, everyone else belonged to Fei Ge’s side.
Pan Xiaoxin swallowed nervously and answered: “The changing seasons on Earth are caused by… Earth’s revolution.”
“Correct answer, 1 point accumulated,” the monitor said.
Immediately before Pan Xiaoxin appeared a heart, positioned right at his chest—peach pink, like a small glowing lamp suspended in air.
