Chapter 599: Living Brain Cells (I)

Chi —

A sharp, piercing hiss of steam erupted as dark golden metal hoses spontaneously detached, and a heavy figure suspended three and a half meters above the ground—clad in a bizarre suit blending features of vintage diving gear and space suits—crashed heavily onto the floor.

Pain. Agony.

A figure lay prone on the ground, its thick, carrot-like special rubber gloves gripping the metal grating floor; through the open grid, a faintly glowing blue pool could be seen below.

The pool’s walls were metallic, about ten meters deep, with dozens of square metal plates slightly larger than a palm seemingly sunk at the bottom.

The red-suited figure’s face was obscured by a black mask, revealing nothing of the features beneath, only a faint hiss of pained inhalation emanating from the neck speaker.

Where am I...?

Wait... who am I?

His head throbbed relentlessly, his eyes felt dry and hazy, and his mouth was parched from dehydration.

The figure pushed himself up with both hands, gripping the railing as he slowly rose; two new memories suddenly surfaced in his mind.

He refers to himself externally as “Pifú”; his real name is Li Sheng, and the latter must never be revealed to outsiders.

But who exactly counts as an “outsider”...?

Li Sheng scanned the surroundings: the entire circular hall was enclosed beneath a hemispherical dome, unusually spacious; besides himself, there were nine other figures, each wearing identical but differently colored space suits, opaque helmets, neck-mounted speakers, and massive backpacks resembling life-support systems; on their left forearms were heavy brass metal rings, and on their right wrists were wristwatches—more accurately, entire blocks of outdated LCD panels adorned with retro metal buttons.

A frayed copper wire protruded from the fabric covering the corner of the panel, looking decidedly unreliable.

Eleven figures in black, white, red, orange, yellow, brown, green, cyan, blue, purple, and pink space suits all noticed each other’s presence, struggling to their feet and gripping the railings as they warily eyed one another.

“Where the hell is this?”

From the eleven o’clock diagonal direction, the figure in the black space suit, speaking in a rhythmic African-American rap cadence, barked: “Who the f*ck are you all?”

No one answered; the vast space was filled only with the muffled breathing of the group and the faint hissing of the metal hoses hanging from the ceiling.

Those metal hoses appeared connected to the life-support units on everyone’s backs; after a brief burst, they ceased spraying and hung limply, like dead vines.

Seeing no response, the black-suited figure grunted in annoyance, gripped the railing, and clumsily trudged toward a corner of the circular hall with heavy, awkward steps.

Each of the four walls of the hall featured an elliptical blast door made of brass, seemingly of very high protective rating, with no keyholes—only a rotary handle at the center.

The elliptical door design distributes pressure evenly, reducing localized overload risks and effectively resisting deformation under high-pressure environments.

So, is this a submarine? Or some underwater oil drilling or mining facility?

Li Sheng instinctively raised his hand to scratch his aching skull; the rubber glove struck the metal helmet with a dull thud.

Zijinaohailijiyicanquebuquan ， Chulemingzizhiwaixiangbuqigengduoxinxi ， Zhiyouyixieshenweixiandairendeshengcunshenghuobixuchangshi 。

Like washing hands after using the toilet and before eating; stopping at red lights and going at green ones; playing with fire causes bedwetting; solving a class of fourth-order fully nonlinear elliptic equations proves the existence of constant scalar curvature metrics; wait, hold on—there’s clearly something off about these “commonsense” items!

Why “after using the toilet and before eating,” not “before eating and after using the toilet”?

Li Sheng rubbed his chin, feeling a faint, inexplicable ache.

“Ache”? So I’m biologically male, with XY chromosomes? Another mystery solved.

Thud! Thud! Thud!

The black-suited figure twisted the rotary door handle with all his strength—unmoving. He punched it, kicked it—still no result.

“Enough. Stop it.”

The pink-suited figure spoke firmly, his voice deep and commanding: “This place is wrong. Don’t you see that?”

Amid the collective confusion, the pink-suited figure spoke first: “Let me introduce myself—my memories tell me my name is [Blood Lion Roar].”

The phrase “my memories tell me” was oddly suggestive; the black-suited figure paused mid-kick, and the postures of the others subtly shifted—all simultaneously realizing, through small gestures, that they all shared memory gaps.

Blood Lion Roar surveyed the group calmly: “And you?”

Beside Blood Lion Roar, the orange-suited figure murmured: “...Edith.”

In accordance with some unspoken understanding, the next white-suited astronaut clockwise shrugged indifferently, leaning back relaxed against the railing; the voice, presumably male, said, “The God of Laughter.”

The cyan-suited figure paused, then spoke in a mature, smoky, gravelly voice: “Hydra.”

“Valkyrie,” said the blue-suited figure, unconsciously clenching her fist; her voice was mature, low, and magnetic—strong and robust, fitting the name.

The brown-suited figure spoke in a bright, youthful girl’s voice: “Dir.”

Li Sheng, in his red space suit, followed suit with a flat, indifferent introduction: “Pifú.”

For a fleeting moment, he considered inventing a fake name—something like “The Monkey King of Flower-Fruit Mountain, Heaven-Defying Sage, Sixth Master of Dongsheng Shen Zhou”—to add some tongue-twisting flair—but an inexplicable intuition urged him to be honest.

Huh... for some reason, this circle-of-introductions scene felt oddly familiar and comforting. Had I done this often before I lost my memory?

The yellow-suited figure spoke in a young man’s voice: “Out of Control.”

The purple-suited figure’s voice was concise: “Su Nisheng.”

The green-suited figure twisted his neck: “Zhongli Mieming.”

All eyes turned to the black-suited figure still kicking the door; he spat in annoyance, turned, and growled: “Midnight Dad.”

With that, all eleven had introduced themselves; silence descended again, eerie and heavy.

After a brief pause, Blood Lion Roar spoke first: “So... we’ve all lost our memories?”

“Yeah. Aside from our names, the only memory I have is... this place.”

Before Out of Control finished speaking, a cold, mechanical electronic voice blared from a speaker in the ceiling corner of the circular hall.

【Stage One Objective: Activate your respective Noisy Kid wristwatch to receive the next instruction.】

【Time Limit: 5 minutes】

【Failure Penalty: Erasure】

A powerful sense of déjà vu surged through them; they exchanged glances, each mind echoing the same thought—f*cking death game.