Chapter 48: The Dark Room

Without any delay, the surroundings instantly shifted; Li Cheng stopped his mental countdown, gaining a clearer understanding of the Killing Field Game’s power.

【In this mission, players are in full role-play mode: only attribute enhancements are retained; no skills or skill scrolls may be used except for title skills; no items from the inventory may be accessed; no equipment items may be used.】

【Mission briefing has been sent.】

【Owen Hedges, this is your name. You were once a respected human rights lawyer with a happy, fulfilling family—until one day a fire consumed them. Your perfect life vanished; you fell into prolonged despair, lost your job, drifted aimlessly, and teetered on bankruptcy. On a friend’s recommendation, you joined a escape room game offering a $50,000 reward. But this game differs from what you imagined.】

When the briefing ended, Li Cheng raised an eyebrow and confirmed that the player panel’s inventory slots had all turned gray, inaccessible.

“If this is an escape room, there should be cameras.”

In Li Cheng’s vision, his own body remained unchanged—but the reflection in the water showed him as a somewhat Tuifei middle-aged white man, clearly the “Owen Hedges” mentioned in the briefing.

Early in the morning!

（In that morning hour）

Li Cheng removed the blade and began searching.

The sailor’s wax figure was entirely coated in a sturdy high-molecular compound, except for a vertical slit left on its abdomen beneath the clothing.

Through the transparent gel layer, the decay marks on the corpse’s surface were clearly visible, along with the stench of rot and the strong smell of rum.

That is, shave his belly with a rusty razor.

The Irish folk song “Drunken Sailor” tells how a crew punishes a drunken sailor who messed up; the next lyric is “Shave his belly with a rusty razor.”

He no longer needed to play the good student, nor the obedient orphan living under others’ roofs—he only needed to be his pure self.

On the room’s right side, salty seawater had pooled, grounding a seven-meter-long miniature two-masted sailboat; the model’s hull was welded firmly to the floor.

Any normal person would be visibly nauseated, possibly even vomiting.

From speakers high above, faint howling winds and seagull cries echoed, creating an overall tropical island atmosphere.

The most likely exit was a square metal panel embedded in the wall, fitted with a rolling digital combination lock: two digits on the left, three on the right—five digits total.

Li Cheng placed his hand beside his forehead to shield from the spotlight’s glare and indeed spotted a long, rectangular surveillance camera in the ceiling corner; he waved at it and shouted: “Kids, I’m actually the 35th President of the United States, John F. Kennedy—I didn’t die! If you let me out, I’ll give you half of the eight hundred tons of gold I buried under the White House!”

“Conversely, if I waste too much time and energy here, I may lack the strength to break out of the remaining 【Dark Rooms】. Thus, the possibility that brute force is the only solution drops significantly.”

The parrot wax figure in the captain’s cabin must have been fitted with some audio device, endlessly repeating the first three lines of “Drunken Sailor” in a loop.

But Li Cheng felt little discomfort—not only because he had already endured life-or-death battles, but because in this alien atmosphere, the rules, laws, morals, and social norms that once bound him no longer existed.

“Ah, so that’s how it is.”

The corpse’s skin was coated in a sturdy high-molecular compound resembling epoxy resin, allowing it to remain standing.

Li Cheng withdrew his gaze; with the strength and agility he retained, he could, with enough time, smash through the thick wooden door before drowning.

A revolting odor burst forth; the slimy, icy sensation on his fingertips was Exintamageiexinkaimen — Exindaojiale .

Thinking of this, he suddenly realized something.

Fine, you win.

Ugh. What is this, a pirate-themed amusement park?

As he silently grumbled, a loud “whir” echoed—the rectangular metal panel high above retracted backward, and moments later, a torrent of water gushed out, drenching the ornamental plants.

The only advantage was that the Infection State of the Lord of Insects was likely sealed as well.

（What do we do with a drunken sailor?）

Water continued flooding the room; time was limited, so Li Cheng swiftly explored the space, searching for clues.

Splash—

“What do we do with a drunken sailor?”

Wei ?? Cun . Bangwulaojuan ?? Juan ?? Seban ?? Bangyueyijuan ??

The room was seven meters high; suspended near the ceiling corner was an extremely bright spotlight.

“Ugh—”

What do we do with a drunken sailor?

The most prominent feature was the corpse standing before him: about 1.8 meters tall, a white male in his forties, with a full beard, a rigid smile on his face, wearing a sailor’s cap, sunglasses on his nose, and an old sailor outfit with no pockets, frozen mid-motion as if shaving with a rusty razor.

The tempting offer received no response; Li Cheng remained calm, unsurprised, lowering his arm—he merely wanted to test whether someone was on the other end of the camera, whether they’d adjust its position for better focus.

First, observe the surroundings.

“The goal of this mission is to survive until escaping the Dark Room, with a time limit of one hour. But judging by the water flow, the room will be flooded long before then. That means the 【Dark Room】 refers to a larger area than just this room.”

（What do we do with a drunken sailor?）

“One of the Killing Field Game’s iron laws is that no mission is ever impossible. Even the most dire situation must have one or more paths to survival.”

The floor clearly had no drain; as water poured in, the level rose slowly. Li Cheng glanced at the metal panel’s area and recalled the fluid flow formula in his mind.

Li Cheng grinned, leapt off the model boat, waded through waist-deep seawater, and reached the first sailor’s wax figure, plucking the rusty razor from its hand.

This was an eight-meter-square room, its four walls composed of LCD panels projecting ocean scenes.

Li Cheng sidestepped the incoming water, catching the salty, briny scent of seawater.

Besides this lock, the room had another: the captain’s cabin door on the model sailboat, its keyhole shaped unusually—requiring a star-shaped key.

Through the keyhole, he faintly saw another wax figure dressed as a captain, seated behind the captain’s desk, grinning broadly; the parrot wax figure on its shoulder emitted cheerful singing.

The water level continued rising, gradually submerging the artificial beach and creeping up the model boat.

On the room’s left side, a thick layer of fine sand covered the floor, adorned with plastic tropical ornamental plants.

Simultaneously, his body was restricted—he could not summon the Mantis Arm Bone Blade or any other enhanced organs.

A strange, unprecedented sense of ease.

The song is called “Drunken Sailor,” a famous Irish sailor folk tune, featured in both “SpongeBob SquarePants” and “The Truman Show.”

More metal panels retracted high above; torrents of seawater flooded the room, accelerating the water level rise—it quickly submerged Li Cheng’s ankles.

Flow equals cross-sectional area multiplied by flow velocity; the water speed appeared slow, and the metal panel’s area was limited—his time was ample.

“Whir! Whir!”

“Found it.”

He yanked his arm out sharply, clutching a star-shaped key in his palm.

(End of Chapter)