“Oh, you decided so quickly~!” The Clown looked at Bai Youwei, lips pulled into a grin. “And you? Have you decided?”

Shen Mo said, “I’ll go in.”

Bai Youwei grabbed his hand, her expression full of worry.

Shen Mo gave her palm a reassuring squeeze and murmured, “We can set up a code. When it’s my turn, I’ll add the word ‘probably’ before my answer and end with ‘already.'”

“The game system won’t have overlooked an obvious loophole like that,” Bai Youwei said earnestly. “Once you’re in there, just answer naturally as you normally would. I’ll figure something out.”

“Alright.” Shen Mo let go of her hand. “I trust you.”

He turned and walked through one of the doors, which closed behind him.

The four teammates on Hans’s side also filed one by one into the rooms.

When all five doors shut, the Clown practically lit up with excitement—its grin stretched so wide it nearly reached behind its ears.

“Alright, alright~! Five people inside, five people outside! You may begin asking questions~!” The Clown said gleefully. “One question per person—who wants to go first?”

Inside the room, a touchscreen computer appeared, displaying a keyboard and an input field.

“No rush~, no rush~! Take your time thinking it through before you ask.” The Clown smiled magnanimously. “Of the five doors, only one contains a person who will receive your question. The other four rooms will feed you false answers instead. So please, choose your question with great care~!”

It finished speaking, then added with a narrowed-eye smile: “Oh, right—I forgot to mention. Anyone who enters a room will experience temporary amnesia. That means they’ll forget any codes or similar little workarounds arranged with their teammates in advance~!”

Bai Youwei’s heart sank.

Those on Hans’s side also went pale one by one. Clearly, they had thought of the same approach Shen Mo had suggested.

Such an obvious loophole—the game system could never have left it unaddressed. Now, all they could do was think harder about the questions themselves. There was no other way.

Bai Youwei glanced over at Hans’s group.

Hans glanced back at her.

Neither side was willing to be the first to ask.

They all knew AI would be interfering—but no one knew how intelligent this AI truly was. The first person to ask was undeniably a test stone.

The standoff didn’t last long, though.

Bai Youwei only had one person, while Hans’s side had four. Even if Bai Youwei asked first, they’d still have to ask at least once more on the second round. So there was no point in stalling.

A blond man said, “I’ll go.”

He stepped forward to the computer with a relaxed demeanor. “Compared to the other games we’ve played, this one isn’t actually that hard, right? Artificial intelligence has an enormous knowledge base—as long as you ask something difficult enough that an ordinary person couldn’t answer it, you’d be able to tell the difference, wouldn’t you?”

Hans reminded him, “You’re not wrong, but don’t forget—the referee said they will mimic and learn…”

“Which is exactly why I want to go first,” the blond man said with confidence. “To give them no chance to learn and mimic.”

He typed his question into the keyboard:

【How many stars are in the Milky Way?】

The Clown referee immediately announced, “Question submitted. Two minutes to answer—please stand by.”

Bai Youwei’s brow furrowed slightly.

Only two minutes. Not even enough time to think it over properly…

The blond man waited at the computer. He’d been relaxed when he asked, but as the wait dragged on, tension slowly crept in. He was beginning to regret it. Maybe he should have picked a more nuanced question?

But it was too late now…

Two minutes later, five different answers appeared simultaneously on the five doors:

【A: I don’t know.】

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

【C: I don’t have knowledge of that.】

【D: Forty quintillion, I think.】

【E: Help! Someone out there? Get me out of here!】

The Clown’s grin bloomed again. “Come now~! Make your choice! Choose right and you pass! Choose wrong and you’re eliminated!”

—