Chapter 16: Setting Sixteen

Setting Sixteen: The Prisoner and the Prison (Part 7)

“Heh…”

It was a low laugh that seemed to tremble even the nerve endings, spreading in layered waves through the morgue.

“Click.” The lights in the morgue went out. Dragon Emperor Unrivaled cursed—his one-track mind had its advantages; he still hadn’t noticed anything strange and kept searching for the keys.

Shan Ziwei mechanically turned his head, hearing the crunch of his frozen neck. With the lights out, the morgue was dark except for a sliver of light from a small window, casting only a vague silhouette of Siren across from them.

He saw Siren’s figure stand up, as if finally freed from the humiliation of bending over. Shan Ziwei followed the movement, tilting his head up—and up—watching the figure stretch to the point of nearly touching the ceiling. Wait—had Siren always been that tall?

The stench of decay in the morgue had been replaced by a briny, fishy ocean smell. His senses, sharpened by fear, caught a rustling sound—like scales scraping across the floor.

Suddenly, Shan Ziwei felt someone’s nails dig into his arm, hard enough to leave marks. He turned in terror—it was Rice Grain Darling clutching him unconsciously. Her face, pale as his own, told him this wasn’t a hallucination.

That grip snapped Shan Ziwei fully awake. He gritted his teeth to keep them from chattering. “Did you find it yet…?!”

“I said stop rushing me! Crap—found it!”

“Click.” Warm sunlight spilled in from behind. The creature in the darkness seemed to freeze for a moment. Seizing the opening, Shan Ziwei shoved Rice Grain Darling—and Dragon Emperor Unrivaled—out of the morgue, slamming the iron door shut along with Host.

“The keys!!!”

Dragon Emperor Unrivaled, still dazed from the fall, was startled by the shout and quickly handed over the keys. Shan Ziwei braced himself against the door, knowing it was futile against “Siren,” but it gave him psychological comfort. He watched Host insert the key into the lock—his hands were steady, no fumbling at the critical moment. The moment the lock clicked, the iron door shuddered violently, as if a giant beast was ramming it from inside.

Shan Ziwei was knocked to the ground. He sat there, looking up at the iron door. There was a small barred window in it, but since the morgue was dark inside, it showed nothing but blackness. For some reason, he couldn’t look away—even though he was terrified, his gaze was locked.

When you gaze into the abyss, the abyss gazes back.

So when Dragon Emperor Unrivaled started complaining, Shan Ziwei was almost grateful—it broke the spell, and he gasped for air. He hadn’t even realized he’d stopped breathing.

“Are you guys overreacting? Look at you, white as—”

Dragon Emperor’s voice cut off. Shan Ziwei knew exactly why. On the barred window of the iron door across from them, a hand had appeared. It wasn’t a human hand—thin scales covered the fingers, webbing stretched between them, and sharp claws tipped each digit, flecked with iron shavings. No doubt it could tear through sheet metal.

Everyone held their breath, watching the clawed hand grip the bars and shake, as if trying to tear the door out of its frame. Though the door rattled fiercely, it held firm.

The clawed hand withdrew—it seemed to have given up. Before anyone could exhale, the iron door lurched violently.

“Boom—!”

Shan Ziwei’s face went white at the horrible bulge in the door. As if rammed by a rhino from inside, the entire door had buckled outward in a strange fan shape. It still hung in its frame, but it looked like it couldn’t withstand another blow.

No words were needed. They fled like startled rabbits, not stopping until their MP was nearly depleted.

“What the hell was that thing?” Dragon Emperor Unrivaled wore a look of pure WTF. “This Chessboard has sci-fi elements?!”

Shan Ziwei wanted to complain too—how did a modern prison break turn into a horror sci-fi thriller? The plot twists were truly breathtaking.

“That monster isn’t still chasing us, is it?” Dragon Emperor couldn’t help glancing at Shan Ziwei. If that monster was “Siren,” then Shan Ziwei was its most likely target.

Host suddenly spoke: “He can’t get out.”

“You think it can’t get out just because you say so—”

“Don’t… don’t fight.” Rice Grain Darling weakly tried to mediate. “We should think about how to continue the escape now.”

At that, Dragon Emperor fell silent. The final setting they’d gotten was “Use Siren to escape.” They had done exactly that—and in the process, nearly gotten wiped by Siren. Now they had no idea what to do next.

“Let’s pool our experiences—that might reveal clues.” Dragon Emperor, confident in his experience, took the lead. “I’ll start. After Setting 4, I went to the infirmary and found a [5 Snatch] Setting Card. I wanted to grab some potions, but all the medical equipment and supplies were locked in cabinets…”

At this point, Dragon Emperor’s eyes lit up as if he’d struck gold. He reached for the keys in Host’s hand. “Give me the keys! Maybe one of these opens the infirmary cabinets—we can unlock them—”

Host let Dragon Emperor take the keys without resistance. He asked calmly, “And after you unlock them?”

“Are you stupid? Take the potions, obviously!”

“And after you take the potions?”

Dragon Emperor faltered for a moment. On second thought, this didn’t seem to have any direct connection to the escape. Still, he retorted defensively, “We also know the exit now. We can grab some ether—like that Siren guy—knock out the guards at the gate, and get out!”

“Um… that,” Rice Grain Darling ventured timidly, “I got a towel in the bathhouse with the prison’s armed deployment on it. To get from the building to the gate, you have to cross the yard, which is guarded by heavy machine guns. Any prisoner caught crossing during non-exercise hours gets shot on sight…”

Shan Ziwei looked toward the yard in the distance—no wonder it was so empty. No prisoner had dared cross it toward the gate.

Defeated, Dragon Emperor’s face flushed with frustration. “Your turn!”

“I went to the workshop.”

Shan Ziwei turned in surprise—Host had actually followed Dragon Emperor’s lead and voluntarily shared his experience.

“The door to the garage was locked.” Host held out his open palm to Dragon Emperor and calmly repeated his earlier words: “Give me the keys.”

Shan Ziwei couldn’t bear to look at Dragon Emperor’s changing expression. The black-haired youth was on another level—challenging him was just asking for humiliation.

Though Host’s words were sparse and disjointed, they clearly painted a path out: the garage naturally held vehicles—with a car, they could tear straight across the yard.

“What if there’s no garage key in here?!”

Host gave three words in response: “The ninth one.”

Everyone looked at the keys in Dragon Emperor’s hand. He fumbled through them roughly—then paused. Right after the eighth key, a key labeled “Garage” was painfully obvious.

“What if… what if there’s no car inside?” Even before Host could respond, Dragon Emperor realized how dumb that sounded and quickly changed tack: “Even if there is, who can drive it?”

“I-I can drive.” Rice Grain Darling chimed in weakly again. “I got a [2 Driving] Setting Card in the newbie tutorial.”

“…Even if we drive across the yard, every guard in the prison will come after us.” Dragon Emperor was still grasping at straws. “If they catch up, we’re done for!”

Shan Ziwei couldn’t help speaking up: “Our clear condition is ‘escape from prison.'”

“No kidding—I know we have to escape the—”

Dragon Emperor froze, finally getting it.

Their clear condition was escape from prison. As long as they left the prison’s boundaries, they succeeded—they didn’t need to plan like real prisoners figuring out how to evade pursuit afterward.

No matter how annoyed Dragon Emperor was, the group headed for the workshop. Having companions made a world of difference. Even though the prison was now patrolled by Knight-rank guards, Shan Ziwei felt no fear—when battles broke out, he rolled aside and became a quiet, beautiful bystander.

Dragon Emperor found Shan Ziwei’s freeloading irritating, but since Shan Ziwei wasn’t competing for chess pieces, he let it slide. Still, every time he drank a potion to cleanse Mental Contamination, he couldn’t help griping: “This team has no healer, one guy’s always slacking off, and potions aren’t free.”

Shan Ziwei Reconnaissance’d the potion Dragon Emperor was drinking out of curiosity.

[Standard SP Potion
Attribute: 2
Type: Recovery Item
Effect: Remove 10% Mental Contamination from Diamond SP.
Description: Check it out, check it out—potions are what it’s all about~]

Shan Ziwei was thrown out of the moment by the ridiculous description again. Standard SP potions looked similar to the red potions in traditional MMOs—usually bought at in-game shops. But in Role-Play, Shan Ziwei hadn’t seen any conventional shops at all. He wondered if Dragon Emperor had found them on a Chessboard or gotten them elsewhere.

“Can I ask… where did you get those potions?”

Shan Ziwei’s question hit Dragon Emperor right in his sweet spot. Dragon Emperor patted the air, and a double-headed eagle doll appeared before Shan Ziwei as if peeling away an invisible film.

“From a shop, of course.” Dragon Emperor let the double-headed eagle doll land on his arm, looking proud. “Don’t get your hopes up—my Toy Box started with a shop function. Yours probably needs to level up a few times before unlocking the ‘Shop’ feature.”

Shan Ziwei instinctively glanced at Little Gaia on his shoulder. The silver-haired black-robed doll was still sleeping soundly, its delicate face buried in the crook of its arm. He remembered the doll introductions during the Toy Box selection—different Toy Boxes seemed to have different additional functions. He wondered what his Toy Box’s specialty was. He felt a flicker of anticipation—he’d definitely ask Little Gaia when it woke up.

After about five guard encounters, the group finally reached the workshop. It was clearly a car parts workshop. Host led them through the maze of parts and machinery with familiar ease to the innermost valve, inserting the key into the lock.

With a click, Shan Ziwei watched Host pull open the unlocked valve. He wasn’t surprised at all. The black-haired youth was too composed, too steady—as if nothing could slip beyond his control. Shan Ziwei felt both admiration and a faint, inexplicable fear.

Beyond the valve lay a massive garage, dominated by an armored vehicle in the center. The four of them rushed over. Dragon Emperor was the first to scramble inside, his excited voice soon confirming: “Great—the keys are in here!”

Rice Grain Darling cheered, and Shan Ziwei felt his tension ease too. This Chessboard was finally coming to an end. The past few hours had been a rollercoaster of ups and downs. This particular sufferer felt like his body and mind had been thoroughly abused by the game developers—in ways he couldn’t begin to describe to outsiders.

Host opened the outer valve. Dragon Emperor climbed into the passenger seat, Rice Grain Darling took the driver’s seat, and Shan Ziwei and Host sat in the back. The girl’s movements were practiced and smooth as she shifted gears and turned the ignition.

“…Huh?”

Rice Grain Darling turned the key several times without success. She glanced at the dashboard—and her face fell.

“No gas…”

“Crap!” Dragon Emperor slammed the dashboard in frustration. Shan Ziwei’s heart sank too—the closer they got to the end, the more complications arose, and the anxiety multiplied exponentially.

The four had to get out again and spread out across the garage to search for gasoline. Shan Ziwei searched, his heart racing with unease. He kept glancing at the open valve, imagining police suddenly showing up, or worse—”Siren” emerging from the morgue, bringing that briny ocean stench and that massive shadow with him.

So when a new line appeared in the System Settings, Shan Ziwei nearly jumped out of his skin. He steadied his pounding heart and focused on the words.

In an instant, it was like ice water had been poured over him—he froze completely.

[Setting 9: You hate rapists and will kill every rapist you see. (00:10:00)]