Chapter 50: The Class Game (Part Sixteen)

As soon as his words came out, not only were all the people present surprised, but even Yun Xueqing subconsciously glanced at him twice.

The Goatman’s tone was icy cold. “Do you know what you’re saying?”

Fu Wuxuan hooked the corner of his lips. “Of course I’m clear on it. I just don’t want to keep playing this boring literary game with you all anymore.”

A single misstep could lead to death from a wrong word, but Fu Wuxuan showed no fear whatsoever. A relaxed smile played on his face, as if he wasn’t afraid of the King ordering his execution at all.

The King, who had been sitting on the Pear Blossom Chair with his back to them, finally spoke his first words of the night. “No one may withdraw from the challenge midway. Violators will be executed without mercy.”

His hair was streaked with white, yet his voice was surprisingly young, not sounding like that of a middle-aged man or an elderly person at all.

Upon hearing the other party’s threatening words, Fu Wuxuan instead teased playfully, “Looks like you’re a King from our Huaxia. You can even say something like ‘violators will be executed without mercy.’”

No matter how Fu Wuxuan provoked him with his words, the King said nothing more. Instead, the Goatman standing before him suddenly spoke up. “Before entering the Second Layer of Hell, let’s play a little game first.”

What it called a game was in truth a deadly trial.

Fu Wuxuan raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

The Goatman clapped its hands, and the heavy door suddenly swung open. A row of guards marched in, each dragging an iron chain. Bound at the end of every chain was a person.

The chains were fastened around their necks like leashes for dogs. Every one of the bound individuals was covered in wounds, clearly having endured severe torment.

There were exactly eight people chained up, matching the number of challengers who remained alive.

The guards paired them off, bringing the chained ones before the challengers.

Fu Wuxuan looked at Li Yulin kneeling before him and raised an eyebrow. “Is this the real one, or just some fake conjured up to deceive us?”

Although San Zhi had mentioned earlier that Li Yulin had also entered this domain, they had never seen him. Was this truly Li Yulin?

Li Yulin sensed the gaze on him and numbly lifted his head. Even upon seeing a familiar face, no ripple of emotion stirred in him.

His eyes were vacant, his expression blank, like a puppet drained of all vitality. There was no trace of the lively demeanor he had shown back in the Weird Domain of the Six-Armed Bodhisattva.

In truth, numbness was the norm for those who survived long-term in Weird Domains. Excessive liveliness was the abnormality.

The once lively Li Yulin had simply become one more numb face in the crowd.

Fu Wuxuan studied him for a couple more moments and basically confirmed that this was the real Li Yulin.

If the Goatman had wanted to fool them with an illusion, it would have recreated the lively, troublemaking Li Yulin.

This Li Yulin in front of them shared only his face; his personality was completely different. An illusion this poorly done would be laughably inferior.

Yun Xueqing, standing nearby, clearly thought the same. His face remained impassive, his expression calm and natural.

Yun Xueqing turned to the Goatman. “What did you do to him?”

The Goatman’s tone was flat. “He entered the Nine Layers of Hell, and his mind was destroyed by the monsters inside.”

It wasn’t just explaining to Yun Xueqing—it was addressing everyone.

Although only Nobles were allowed into the Blue Castle, the King still needed people to tend to his food, clothing, and daily needs. Nobles couldn’t do that, so slaves or commoners had to enter the Blue Castle to serve.

Clearly, the King had a twisted sense of humor and craved some entertainment.

So, he occasionally had the Goatman recruit slaves outside, sending them into the Nine Layers of Hell for trials.

Of course, most slaves died inside. Only a few emerged, but their minds were shattered.

Li Yulin had arrived here days ahead of Yun Xueqing and Fu Wuxuan. Lacking skills and not particularly wise, he was quickly tricked into becoming a slave by the locals. Unlucky enough to be chosen by the King, he was sent into the Nine Layers of Hell and ended up like this.

Yun Xueqing pulled his attention away from Li Yulin and glanced around. Aside from Fu Wuxuan, the others wore varied expressions, all complex as they faced the slaves brought before them.

These slaves undoubtedly had connections to the challengers. Even the usually frivolous Ji Tongsheng subconsciously used his fan to cover the lips exposed beneath his mask, hiding his emotions from view.

Yun Xueqing lowered his gaze, a multitude of questions swirling in his mind.

Were there really only thirteen of them among the Nobles who signed up for the challenge?

The number thirteen was inauspicious, easily evoking The Last Supper—Jesus and his twelve disciples, each harboring private thoughts, one a betrayer.

Why here, of all places, did they coincidentally encounter people connected to them?

How did the King know about their ties to Li Yulin? Did he possess the ability to peer into their memories?

Too many questions awaited answers. Yun Xueqing’s gaze was indifferent. “What do you want us to do?”

The Goatman’s tone remained even. “I’m sure you’ve all noticed that these slaves we brought aren’t ordinary. They might be former comrades-in-arms, even closer kin or lovers.”

“But even blood-related family or long-time partners can betray you.”

The Goatman deliberately emphasized “betray,” its tone icy. “And even among you thirteen challengers, there is a betrayer.”

As soon as it finished speaking, the remaining people began eyeing each other warily.

One person muttered softly, “If there really is a betrayer, it’s probably that fish. He’s the only one not sitting on a chair but a wheelchair. He’s the outlier.”

Its direction was obvious. Fu Wuxuan followed the voice but couldn’t spot whose lips had moved.

They were already competitors who didn’t trust each other. Now, knowing there was a betrayer, no one dared place faith in anyone.

Seeing their varied expressions, the Goatman tugged at its somewhat mocking lips. “Trust is a fragile thing. Unconditional, blind trust is very likely to bring death.”

It pointed at the eight remaining challengers, then at the eight slaves bound by chains. “You sixteen people must complete a game together.”

Yun Xueqing: “What game?”

The Goatman: “The Red-Blue Survival Experiment.”

It laid out the rules of the game.

Everyone had to choose between two colors: blue or red.

Blue: If more than half chose blue, everyone survived.

Red: If fewer than half chose blue, those who picked red survived, while those who picked blue died.

No one could communicate; they had to choose in silence.

Fu Wuxuan quirked his lips, about to speak, when the Goatman warned, “Silence. No communication allowed. Please make your choice now.”

As soon as it finished, the scene shifted.

Yun Xueqing observed his surroundings and found himself alone in a white room. Before him sat two small balls—one red, one blue—next to a placement platform and a lamp.

The instruction read: [Place the ball of your chosen color on the platform.]

Yun Xueqing lowered his gaze, picked one, and placed it on the platform.

The scene changed again. He returned to the King’s room and looked around—only he was back. The others were still choosing for various reasons.

The Goatman saw him and wasn’t surprised. “This lord’s heart is quite resolute. I wonder what choice you made.”

Until the results came out, even it didn’t know Yun Xueqing’s pick.

The second to return was Fu Wuxuan, who leisurely wheeled himself back in his wheelchair.

Once the choice was made, communication was allowed again. He sighed. “This isn’t some psychology test at all, nor is it testing trust. It’s purely a test question on paper.”

Yun Xueqing looked over to see Fu Wuxuan huff. “As long as everyone picks red, it’s fine. If anyone picks blue, they’ve got a problem with their brain—heroic self-indulgence.”

If everyone picked red, there’d be no punishment or harm.

But those without brains couldn’t read the question and would pick blue out of self-righteous sentiment, then stand on moral high ground to call red-pickers selfish for disregarding others’ lives.

Oblivious to the fact that they were throwing their own lives away.

He spoke to Yun Xueqing without reservation. “I picked red. You?”

No one would be dumb enough to pick blue, right?

Some risks weren’t worth taking.

Yun Xueqing didn’t say what he’d chosen. Instead: “Among those slaves, some have lost their minds.”

They were deranged, their intellects destroyed. They might not even understand the question, just blindly picking a ball under duress.

And among the sixteen, not everyone was clever. Some were muddled, some greedy and foolish, some arrogant. Someone was bound to misread the question.

Among sixteen people, someone was sure to pick the blue ball.

Most humans even forgot to write their names on exams—what could you expect?

No one could guarantee no one would pick blue.

But who would risk it all to save those fools who picked blue, giving up certain victory to pick blue themselves?

Some would.

Because those eight slaves were inextricably linked to them.

If you didn’t pick blue too, your friend might die. To save them, you’d have to gamble.

But if you gambled wrong, you died too.

It was a test of trust and humanity.

Fu Wuxuan looked at the silent Yun Xueqing. “What ball did you pick?”

Yun Xueqing didn’t answer. Instead: “In that room, the colors of the balls were reversed.”