Chapter 124

Chapter 124

The prison had strict regulations. Eve, like a phantom, trailed silently behind Lorca as he paused and moved, observing their surroundings.

The corridor walls displayed the prison’s activity schedule, which was why Lorca lingered for a while even after committing murder. It was currently the prisoners’ free time, and amidst the bustling crowd of black-and-white striped uniforms, the figure standing dazedly at the corridor entrance, head lowered, didn't particularly stand out—just looked a bit vacant.

...Vacant.

Eve marveled to herself that such a word could be used to describe Lorca. You truly do see everything if you live long enough.

It wasn’t until she looked up at the schedule on the wall, halfway through reading it, that she suddenly realized Lorca had used this very action to identify that the person was also an Investigation Department student participating in the competition.

Long-term prisoners, even if they looked up at the text on the wall out of boredom, wouldn’t stare as intently as newcomers trying to memorize the rules at first glance. Lorca had been lingering in the hallway precisely to hunt such people.

Comparing the time and location of the first gunshot, Eve figured the victim must have been killed here too.

She glanced at Lorca, who still looked utterly guileless, then at the shadow on the ground. She knew the Wall-Imprisoned Serpent had slipped into it.

The Wall-Imprisoned Serpent’s ability was to incarnate into a lower dimension, attaching itself to floors, walls, or any solid object nearby, only emerging when necessary. It was inherently a stealth-assassination type of Spiritual State, perfectly suited to dim places like prisons, which was why Lorca had summoned it right from the start.

—Though Eve suspected he rarely ever put his Spiritual State away back into his mental world even under normal circumstances.

Still, Eve felt something was off. Lorca's usual logical chain seemed to have a flaw somewhere, giving her a sense of dissonance.

What was bugging her?

She hung back a few steps, observing the young man from behind. After staring long enough, she even felt she could discern traces of Lorca in this ordinary-looking prisoner. For instance, the temporary body the system had created was actually quite tall, but Lorca deliberately hunched and slouched to blend in.

In reality, Lorca also often kept his head down. Though it didn’t look awkward in terms of posture, whenever he was with Eve, he always acted all submissive.

Every cell had an electronic clock fixed to the wall. It was now 12:37 p.m.

According to the prison schedule posted in the corridor, prisoners only had a brief half-hour meal time from 12:00 to 12:30 p.m. The guards’ yelling Eve had heard earlier were hurrying the last few prisoners to finish eating.

After that came half an hour of free activity and digestion time, followed by mandatory naptime at 13:00, and craft time starting at 14:00. When Eve entered the game, she had landed in front of a cell on the second floor. Now, following Lorca around corners, she realized his cell was right next to hers.

Lorca seemed to have gone out just for a casual stroll, not seriously observing his surroundings, keeping his head lowered the entire time. After a while, the guards blew their whistles for naptime. He went to wash his hands, scrubbing each finger carefully, wiped them dry with a towel, and then, along with three cellmates, silently unfolded the ratty quilts and each went to their own beds to sleep.

Eve was utterly dumbfounded. Was this guy really not planning to explore or scout during this time?

After just two kills, he was already wrapping up?

But the answer soon revealed itself.

A sharp, clanging sound came from outside the door, like metal striking metal. After twice passing through the head of the person on the bed, Eve floated to the door herself.

A bald, beardless middle-aged man with a face full of brute features but a timid, cautious expression was hunched by the door, idly tapping the iron bars with his fingernails. He seemed to want to attract the attention of whoever was inside but was afraid of getting caught.

Underneath this middle-aged man's exterior was actually a freshman from this year’s Investigation Department. He had originally signed up for the competition just for kicks, never expecting the school to take it so seriously.

Though you couldn’t die in the simulation system, the pain settings were on standard mode. Getting shot would hurt like crazy.

This freshman had no choice but to instinctively seek cooperation. Hunters couldn’t kill each other, and he naively thought that if he was lucky enough to find a responsible upperclassman, he might learn some useful competition tricks.

Little did he know that in this battle royale where only one could survive, everyone was a potential opponent. Even fellow hunters, the other upperclassmen, merely hid in their cells, mockingly observing him before concealing themselves even better.

The chat lit up again:

“This must be a freshman. The primary focus of the Investigation Department election is investigation—which means disguise. He’s not even pretending, just straight-up coming here.”

“That guy washing his hands slowly was deliberate, right? Luring others to approach him. Is this the top ranker?”

“Not sure, but this devious, ruthless style seems similar. Mainly, I didn’t see how the first two were eliminated—they just disappeared without explanation.”

The sound of guards making rounds echoed from afar. The man clearly got nervous, glancing toward the end of the corridor and quickening his tapping on the bars. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and his eyes showed urgency. Eve was curious about how he planned to escape through the iron bars, so she stayed, sitting cross-legged on the other side of the bars like him, guessing what his Spiritual State ability might be.

The guards’ footsteps drew closer, hard boots clacking on the concrete floor—tap, tap, like the footsteps of the God of Death. The bald man didn’t know what would happen if an NPC caught him violating rules in the game, but he had a very bad premonition. It forced him to grit his teeth and summon his Spiritual State.

It was a small golden monkey, gleaming and about the height of an adult’s calf. The monkey placed its paws on the iron bars, gently hooked them apart, and, to Eve’s astonishment, pried open a gap. After the bald man hurriedly squeezed into the cell, the monkey gently pushed the bars back into place. Once done, the golden monkey was recalled by its owner.

The guards were almost upon them.

A cool, low, and hoarse voice spoke up, soft yet leaving no room for refusal: “Lie down on the lower bunk of the bed on the right.”

It was Lorca!

This guy hadn’t been asleep at all and had pretended not to hear the tapping! The bald man lacked game experience but wasn’t stupid—he now understood everything. He’d been drawn to Lorca’s odd behavior because Lorca had intended it that way. Once lured over, Lorca used the patrolling guards to force him to reveal his Spiritual State.

Once the Spiritual State was revealed, it was easy to identify which real-world student it belonged to.

He had no time to question Lorca now and hurriedly climbed onto the narrow iron bed. The moment he lay down, the guards reached their cell.

The room was pitch black, making it impossible to distinguish anyone. The guard shone a flashlight briefly, confirmed all four were properly in their beds, and left.

Once the footsteps faded, the bald man sat up furiously, throwing off the blanket, and condemned, “You did that on purpose!”

Lorca couldn't be bothered, still lying stiffly on the plank bed, coldly and ruthlessly saying, “Weren’t you here to form an alliance with me? Testing your ally a little is perfectly normal, isn’t it?”

“But I almost got caught by the guards! Wouldn’t getting caught mean elimination?”

“If you want the guards to come back, feel free to keep shouting these meaningless questions.”

The bald man immediately fell silent, only leaving a pair of glaring sanbaiyan staring angrily at Lorca in the dark.

“Sigh...” Lorca on the bed slowly sighed, as if his conscience had been stirred, and explained his actions in a calm tone. “I did that firstly to test your ability. If you couldn’t even handle a small problem like that, there’d be no point in cooperating. Secondly, to verify your identity.”

“Do you even remember everyone’s Spiritual State in the department? Can you identify me just from my little monkey?”

The bald man’s voice was filled with obvious panic and unease. Being recognized in the online simulation and having your real identity exposed—getting doxxed—seemed pretty embarrassing.

Lorca seemed stunned by the other’s intelligence, remaining silent for a moment before saying, “...Do you know what elimination is?”

The implication was that though he didn’t know who the bald man was, he had used the Spiritual State to eliminate the possibility that he was “Lorca.”

“Lorca is cunning and deceitful. In last year’s competition, he relied on countless lies to manipulate everyone. So I’m wary of allies. Though the intelligence you’ve displayed doesn’t seem like him, it’s not impossible he’s just acting well,” he added, eyes peacefully closed. “Fortunately, you’ve now thoroughly proven your reliability. After all, with this level of intelligence, even if Lorca wanted to pretend, he’d probably find it hard to mimic.”

“You!” The bald man was furious but dared not speak up. After a long while, a sulky voice emerged from the darkness. “So... will you still ally with me?”

Young man, after being insulted like that, you’re still hung up on that alliance?

Eve, observing the entire scene, was utterly amazed.

...How could someone so naturally praise themselves while putting others down, and still have the insulted party dazedly continue to be fooled?

Lorca didn’t directly answer whether he’d ally or not. The room fell silent except for faint breathing. Eve had clearly seen three cellmates get into bed earlier, but now they were as still as corpses, completely unresponsive to the conversation. Suspecting Lorca had hidden them somewhere, she floated down to check under the bed and found a pair of dry, cracked male feet against the wall deep inside.

Pausing, Eve then moved to the foot of the bed and saw two cellmates strangled unconscious, eyes rolled back, stuffed between the bed and the wall. The same was true on the other side. Clearly, it was the work of the Wall-Imprisoned Serpent.

Eve: “...”

The pitch-black cell, the eerie silence, and the pale man standing barefoot in the darkness—it felt like something straight out of a horror movie.

She quietly slipped away and sat on the iron table used by prisoners for studying.

It was at this moment that Lorca spoke again.

"You coming to me on your own initiative has been a great help," Lorca said. "I now have a pretty good idea of who the prey is."

Bald Man: "?!"

Eve: "......"

"Not counting the two replacements who joined later—they came in later, so the system likely gave them some advantages, like placing them on the first floor with more equipment and opportunities, or assigning them to easier groups in later tasks. Among our initial group of six, two have already been eliminated by Lorca. Of the remaining four, excluding the two of us, there are two left, and one of them must be the prey."

Lorca pressed his fingers to his forehead, thinking for a moment, then finally opened his eyes gleaming coldly in the darkness. "I can’t pinpoint exactly which one it is, but I have a few suspects in mind. Later, when we’re assigned to labor groups, we’ll split up and observe separately. We'll each use our own methods, and don’t worry about each other when hunting the prey."

"Huh?" The bald man wasn’t quite used to the pace. Not long ago, he was still struggling to understand the rules, and now he was being thrown right into action. He scratched his head awkwardly, only to remember there wasn’t a single hair on his scalp.

Setting that aside, he immediately asked urgently, "How do you know who’s suspicious?"

"By observing with my eyes. Did you think everyone’s head is just for decoration like yours?"

"......Why do you have to be so mean?" the bald man muttered, though he had to admit that Lorca’s dismissive attitude oddly gave him more confidence.

Someone this arrogant must be pretty capable. At first, he worried Lorca might play favorites during the assignment, keeping the more likely prey for himself and leaving the leftovers for him. But then it occurred to him—if Lorca looked down on him this much, it probably meant his own skills were not much in the eyes of this veteran. If he really ran into the prey, who knew who’d end up as the hunter and who’d be the prey?

Thinking he'd seen through it all, he suddenly felt enlightened and stopped dwelling on Lorca’s attitude. He agreed readily, "Alright, then just assign the groups and give me the list."

Hearing this, Lorca didn’t hesitate and immediately recited a few numbers, corresponding to the prisoner IDs on their uniforms.

"You’re responsible for these," he said finally. "Be careful before shooting—don’t hit any innocents. If anything comes up, come find me."

The bald man naturally agreed without another word. A few minutes later, a whistle blew, and the cell door swung open. Lorca didn't even look back at him, hopping off the bed, throwing on his army-green jacket, and heading out. Eve followed him as usual. Just before turning the corner, she heard the bald man suddenly say, "Hey, he checked my Spiritual State, but I never got to check his!"

"Ah, forget it. He called me a moron—probably can’t be bothered to trick me. I’ll take it as keeping peace on the team, hmph."

"......"

This dumb kid, brushing shoulders with the God of Death without even realizing it, Eve thought sympathetically. Isn’t it just because everything was dead silent during nap time that shooting you would’ve given away our position, so we had to change the method?

Just moments ago, the Wall-Imprisoned Serpent was clinging to the wall behind the bald man. If he had really pressed to check Lorca’s Spiritual State, he would’ve been strangled unconscious by the serpent in the next second, then finished off after the whistle blew.