Global Examination 06

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Chapter 6

Hunter A said, “I’m a bit hungry, wait until mealtime.”

This time, after returning the examinees to the huts, 922 lingered at the doorway again for a while.

After last time’s experience, he was genuinely curious what else Youhuo could come up with. He regretted it in under a few seconds, because Youhuo showed up.

922 looked helpless: “What is it this time?”

Youkai: “I just remembered something.”

“What is it?”

“The rules here basically follow real-world exams?”

922 nodded: “They certainly take them as a reference.”

Youkai: “There’s one rule about exams that wasn’t mentioned.”

922: “Which one?”

“You mean if an examinee runs into a problem, can they also ask the proctor?”

922: “…Yes.”

But we don’t really want you to look for it.

To avoid trouble, 922 immediately added, “Just like a real exam, asking for answers is prohibited. We won’t help with that, and we can’t help.”

Youhuo made an “mm” sound to show he understood.

But he was always so perfunctory; 922 remained skeptical about that “understood.”

“So how do we contact you if we run into problems?”

922 said, “Just… use the designated pen, and under the exam requirements on the answer wall, write—”

He meant to say to write the proctor’s number, but his resistance was so strong that his tongue tied, and what came out was, “Write 001.”

Youhuo stared at him with an expressionless face.

922 repeated innocently, “Mm, write 001.”

“…”

After what felt like a century, Youhuo nodded, turned, and shut him out the door.

922 made a grand gesture and went back cheerfully.

……

Inside the hut.

The hearth still burned brightly, and the group was clearly divided.

Because of the hidden knife, the tattooed man had been ostracized by the others, sitting alone at the corner of the table with a sullen face.

Everyone else kept their distance from him, even going out of their way to walk around him.

When Youhuo returned, Yu Wen sprang up at once.

“Brother! Did the proctor do anything to you? Did they punish you? Are you okay?”

He waved the answer sheet knife and fired off a rapid stream of questions.

Everyone turned to look.

Youhuo frowned, stepped away from the blade, and used his foot to push him farther, saying, “It’s fine.”

“Are you sure?” Yu Wen didn’t believe it at all.

He glanced toward the corner, lowered his voice, and said, “That person was only captured once and ended up like this — the method of punishment must be terrifying, right?”

Youhuo glanced toward the corner against the wall; the shaven-headed man who had been put in solitary confinement was hunched there, his eyes yellowed and cloudy, bloodshot and bulging. He swayed nervously back and forth, muttering something under his breath, his words slurred and indistinct.

Clearly driven mad with fear.

Seeing the shaven head made Youhuo think of that locked cell, and he felt a wave of nausea rise up.

“Has he always been like this?”

“Yeah. Three hours, and I still haven’t recovered at all.” Yu Wen shivered, then lowered his voice and added, “He kept muttering to himself the whole time — I even crouched there to listen for a bit.”

“Saying what?”

Yu Wen shook his head. “I only caught ‘bad luck’ — oh, and something about ‘burning paper money’ — couldn’t make out the rest.”

Youhuo made a thoughtful “hm” and didn’t say more.

“You even punished him one more time, how come it seems to be okay?” Yu Wen asked, curious.

Youhuo couldn’t be bothered to explain further and replied perfunctorily, “The methods were different.”

Yu Wen: “So what punishments did you give?”

Youhuo gave a curt list: “Slept for a while, delivered a bucket of blood to the proctor.”

Yu Wen: “???”

“Why would he donate blood to the proctor?”

Youhuo sneered coldly, “Who knows, maybe he likes him.”

Yu Wen keenly noticed that when his brother said “he,” he meant him, not them.

“Which one? Likes that thing? Is he a pervert?”

Youhuo: “001.”

Yuwen: “Ew…”



You and the invigilator don’t get along, so I don’t want to talk about that topic.

He scanned the room, frowned, and asked Yu Wen, “You just sprawled out for three hours like that?”

“Impossible.” Yu Wen pointed to the answer wall and said, “Bro, your solution inspired me, so I went and wrote a few characters.”

Youhuo looked toward the answer wall.

All over it were Yu Wen’s cramped, scrawled characters.

Youhuo: “……”

Yu Wen said, “Our teacher said, write whatever comes to mind, even if you don’t know—write down the thought process; maybe you’ll hit a few right points by accident.”

Youhuo: “So you wrote an essay?”

He strained to make out the scrawl, pointed at one line and asked, “What’s this sentence?”

Yu Wen strained even harder than he did. “Looks like… ‘We know there are thirteen of us in total, but only twelve sets of cutlery.'”

Youhuo: “…Why are you copying the question?”

Yu Wen: “…When I get stuck on exams and have nothing to write, I sometimes emphasize a key part of the prompt to add a few extra words.”

Youhuo: “……”

Get to the damn point of the question.

He pointed at another cluster of circles: “What’s this?”

Yu Wen: “G = mg, g = 9.8 N/kg……”

Youhuo: “What does this have to do with optics?”

Yu Wen: “Mostly… I don’t know what tableware has to do with optics either.”

Youhuo: “…”

Yu Wen, afraid his brother would get furious, added: “There is some optics involved.”

Youhuo was too lazy to read the long-winded nonsense and asked directly, “What did you write?”

Yu Wen replied sheepishly, “Um, I wrote about refractive index, parallel light, spheres, lenses, focal length, imaging… those all count as optics, right? I also drew a couple of simple diagrams of mirror imaging.”

Youhuo showed no expression. Yu Wen thought for a moment, then pulled his brother away from the answer board and changed the subject, “Let’s not talk about that unhappy stuff. Besides answering questions, we did a few other things.”

In fact, after the answer board was updated, they had turned the room upside down.

The prompt said: This is Huntsman A’s little cottage; he has 13 sets of tableware, but the food only feeds 12 people.

But they searched the attic, the cupboards, the jars and bottles — not a sign of Huntsman A, and not a single set of tableware; as for the food…

That was just a pipe dream.

“We’ve been looking for over two hours,” Yu Wen said despondently. “For such a tiny dump of a house, two hours! You can imagine, we really turned the place inside out. There’s nothing here—what a load of crap for a prompt.”

Youhuo asked, “Are you sure you’ve searched everywhere?”

“Not exactly.” A bamboo-stick-thin man in a hospital gown beside him coughed a few times and interjected, “There are two places we didn’t touch.”

He raised his gaunt, bony finger and pointed at the two locked rooms.

On the doors of the two rooms hung a hen and a rooster. Their necks were twisted; their jet-black eyes stared unblinking out the window.

Maybe it was because those two rooster-shaped things looked so weird — every time they crowed, either a rule was broken or the session would be shut down, so nobody dared touch them.

“We looked for the key but couldn’t find it.”

Youhuo nodded, stepped closer to inspect the two padlocks, then turned his head to scan the walls.

Yu Wen, afraid his brother would grab the axe and chop the door down, hurriedly said, “Bro! I’ve played more games than anyone here. For a door that’s locked like this, you really shouldn’t force it.”

Youhuo asked coolly, “Do I look like an idiot?”

Yu Wen pulled his neck back, not daring to speak.

After a moment, he awkwardly said, “Then why were you staring at the wall?”

“Who’s been handling the hunting gear?” Youhuo asked.

Everyone turned their eyes to the tattooed man.

“Fuck, what the hell are you looking at me for!” The tattooed man bristled under their stares. “Last time you accused me of hiding the knife, now what are you trying to blame me for?”

“Blame you?” Youhuo frowned.

“So many people piled together—who the hell knows where the knife fell out from.” The tattooed man cursed a few times and, irritated, snapped, “I’m done—it’s impossible to explain anything to you idiots!”

Youhuo looked at him coolly.

Tattooed man: “……”

Two seconds of silence, then the tattooed man said, “Forget it, forget it, you—what do you want to ask, ask!”

Youhuo lifted his chin toward the wall: “Hang the hunting gear you took down back where it was. I want to check the placement.”

The tattooed man glared at him: “Am I sick? Take it off and then have to hang it back up?”

……

Three minutes later, the tattooed man walked around with a pocketful of hunting gear, hanging each item back in its place.

Youhuo kept his hands in his pockets and followed behind.

“I’m not a dog—can you stop acting like you’re walking me around?!”

The tattooed man grumbled his discontent, but obediently put the last item back anyway, spat into the air, and walked off.

“Brother, what’s wrong with the hunting gear?” Yu Wen asked.

Youhuo pointed at the final wall and said, “There are two empty nails.”

“So?”

“What happened to the things hanging on the peg?”

The room fell silent for a moment.

Suddenly someone said, “Yeah… two things are missing. Nobody hid them, right?”

Everyone shook their heads.

Old Yu: “It was like that before.”

Everyone looked at him.

“Well… before the exam, I was going out for a walk, right?” Old Yu said to Youhuo. “You were sleeping, so I didn’t wake you. When I was leaving I wanted to check whether there were any umbrellas in the room — at that time those two pegs were empty, I’m sure.”

“You mean, since we came into the room, two of the hunting tools have been missing?”

“Then who has them?”

“Hunter A?” Yu Wen guessed. “So… there actually is a Hunter A, it’s just that he’s not in the room—he went out hunting?”

Everyone panicked a little: “We can’t go out, and he won’t come in—how are we supposed to find him?”

Youhuo: “Time hasn’t come yet, right?”

……

The others were half convinced by the guess about the time, but Youhuo had already dragged over a chair and sat down to warm himself by the fire.

Everyone else, anxious and uneasy, sat down as well and stood around the stove in a daze.

Yu Yao put her hands on her hips and carefully edged closer. She watched Youhuo for a moment; the firelight traced the planes of his profile, making him look slightly softer than usual, but his lowered brow and eyes still gave off a coolness.

She said with a face full of guilt, “I’m sorry.”

Youhuo looked up at her.

Yu Yao said softly, “That ink… it was obviously my handwriting, but you were punished for it. I meant to apologize earlier, but before I could open my mouth you were taken away by the proctor.”

Youhuo: “…”

Yu Yao said, “I know apologizing won’t help, but if anything happens next time, I’ll go in your place.”

Youhuo: “…”

He glanced at Yu Yao with half-lidded eyes, then looked away and went back to tending the fire. “No need.”

Yu Yao opened his mouth, as if to say something, but in the end said nothing.

She sat there zoning out for a while, then suddenly asked Youhuo, “Aren’t you afraid?”

Youhuo stretched out a leg; the stove was too warm, making him a bit sleepy.

He was quiet for a moment, then lazily asked, “Afraid of what?”

“Afraid of death, afraid of breaking the rules… or whatever. Everyone’s curious, they think you’re amazing, like you’re afraid of nothing.”

“Does being afraid help?”

Yu Yao nodded slightly and said softly, “True, but you can’t always control it. I’m really afraid of—”

Youhuo didn’t even look up and said, “You’re not exactly timid. You even dared to write that kind of ink on the wall without knowing what it was.”

He spoke effortlessly, as if he couldn’t even be bothered to move his lips. His voice was low, with a kind of cool texture. But warmed by the fire, there was no real tone of reproach.

Yu Yao lowered her head, still so full of guilt she didn’t know what to say.

She held it in for a long time before she managed to force out one sentence: “Actually, I…”

But before she could finish, she noticed Youhuo with one foot propped on the edge of a chair, his elbow resting on his knee, as if he was about to fall asleep again.

She paused for a moment, but swallowed the words. She didn’t wake Youhuo, and slowly moved back to sit beside the two old women.

“How did he fall asleep again?” the old woman said softly. “Did he not sleep before he came?”

Yu Wen vaguely heard that line; he glanced at Youhuo and thought to himself, no way, my brother looks that sleepy even when he’s asleep.

Yu Yao didn’t say much. She leaned against the old woman, her gaze fixed on a corner of the wall in the distance, as if daydreaming again.

……

After an unknown amount of time, the clock on the cupboard ticked forward by one notch.

Beijing time, exactly 4:00 a.m.

The sudden crowing of a rooster jolted everyone awake.

They suddenly sat up, looking at each other; only then did they realize they’d somehow dozed off in a daze.

Yu Wen slapped himself twice, coming to just a little more alert.

He had barely let his hand down when he heard a strange sound.

“Ssh—”

He raised his hand to signal, and asked softly, “Did you hear that?”

“What?” Old Yu glared at his son acting like there were ghosts, completely baffled.

“Didn’t you hear it?” Yu Wen said. “Just… this creaking, creaking sound.”

The room suddenly fell silent; no one dared move.

Everyone wore expressions of startled suspicion, holding their breath to listen to the sound.

Sure enough, after a few seconds.

The creaking sound started up again, and this time everyone heard it.

It was like… something in the snow was dragging a heavy object.

The sick man with the thin bamboo staff suddenly made a gesture, pointed toward the window, and silently said, “This way.”

Before he could close his mouth, the door creaked open.

A dark shadow was cast in from the doorway.

Then a pale-faced man came in, dragging a length of hemp rope.

He had broad shoulders but wasn’t tall; his face looked like overexposed paper, and his eyes were strange—the black of his irises so large there was barely any white left.

He hunched his back, coiling the rope little by little; the wide-bladed knife and small snare hanging at his waist clinked.

No one in the room spoke. Everyone watched as he dragged a burlap sack inside, then shut the door.

Only then did he turn toward the hearth. His jet-black eyes blinked twice. “Ah… wonderful, guests have arrived.”

Everyone: “…”

……

The one who came to cause trouble was the hunter A they’d been waiting for a long time.

He slowly rubbed his hands together and said, “With the heavy snow sealing off the mountains these past few days, I knew more food… uh, I mean, more guests would be coming.”

The guest: “…”

“It’s really cold out there.” He spoke softly and slowly. “The snow piled up so thick everyone hid; it’s nearly impossible to find prey. It took me a very long time to dig one out.”

He kicked the sack, smiling obligingly at the others, his mouth nearly splitting to his ears. “You’re really lucky—you caught me at mealtime.”

He sighed again and explained, “There’s nothing much on the snowy mountain, so groups only come through very infrequently. I have to tighten my belt to survive. So I only eat two meals a day.”

“There’s a meal at 4 a.m. and another at 4 p.m. — chances to dine with me aren’t that common.” He looked at the clock on the cabinet and said, “Ah, perfect timing. You’ve been waiting here so long, you must be starving. I can even hear your stomachs. Can’t wait, can you?”

Guests: “…”

“How many of you are there again?” He held up his fingers, counting people off one by one, “Old woman, sickly fellow, little rascal, drunkard, drunkard’s son…”

None of the titles were flattering, and everyone he counted turned noticeably green.

He hesitated when it came to Youhuo’s name, sounding displeased: “Why’s there still one who can’t wake up.”

“Forget it.” Hunter A’s mood was spoiled; he glanced at the question board’s prompt and said, “I heard there are 13 people in total, but my food is a bit short—only enough for 12. What a pity.”

He said that and licked his lips: “I’m really hungry. But you’ll have to wait a bit longer—I need to get things ready. It’s my first time seeing so many guests.”

Yu Wen: “……”

It’s the first time I’ve seen such an effeminate hunter.

Hunter A bent down and grabbed the sack.

The sack looked especially heavy—who knew what was inside, and no one really wanted to find out…

He dragged the sack to a corner of the room and stopped in front of the room where the hens were hung.

Keys jingling, Hunter A carefully selected one and opened the door.

A foul, decaying stench wafted out.

It’s hard to describe just how awful the smell was—like rotting flesh, dust, and decayed wood piled together.



The room with the hen hanging up—everyone had always assumed it was a bedroom.

Only now do they realize it was actually a kitchen.

Inside there’s a long worktable; a person could lie on it without a problem.

On the other side is a long red wooden cabinet, with several locks hanging on it.

Hunter A smiled at everyone, bowed again, and said, “Just a moment, it’ll be ready soon.”

Then he closed the door.

……

The hearth fell silent for a long while before someone cried out in panic, “I don’t want to eat. I want to go home.”

“Who the hell doesn’t want to go home!” The tattooed man had somehow edged into the crowd; maybe he was also afraid of that Hunter A. “Think you can get out? You got the guts to open the door and run right now?”

The crowd fell silent again.

After a long moment, Old Yu swallowed and said, “That hunter’s got a big mouth. Swallowing a head or two wouldn’t be a problem. I’ve always felt like he’s going to eat people…”

Yu Yao murmured, “What’s in that sack?”

Those two sentences together sounded terrifying.

Everyone’s gazes turned toward the window.

Outside, the heavy snow still hadn’t stopped. Before the exam, Lao Yu had gone out to scout and said it was snow in all directions; the trees all looked the same. For a hundred-mile radius there were no houses, no signs of people—an eerie silence…

What prey could there possibly be?

Besides, Hunter A said the food was dug up by him.

When they arrived here that afternoon, a man disobeyed orders and took apart the radio, and not long after, his corpse was buried in the snow…

Everyone recalled that incident at once, faces showing deep fear.

Yu Wen was on the verge of vomiting.

“Turn your head if you need to vomit.” Youhuo’s voice cut in coldly. “Don’t get it all over me.”

“Bro, you’re awake?!” Yu Wen cried out in surprise.

“What are you shouting for! Can you keep it down?!” the tattooed man barked in a rough voice.

Youhuo glanced at the tattooed man and said, “I wasn’t sleeping.”

Yu Wen: “Oh—then why do you keep your eyes closed?”

“My eyes are uncomfortable.”

Yu Wen remembered that his father, Old Yu, had mentioned once that Youhuo had undergone eye surgery; looking at bright things for a long time would make him tired and feel unwell. But in daily life, he had never heard Youhuo mention it himself, so he always forgot about it.

“Brother, did you hear everything the hunter said?” Yu Wen asked.

Youhuo made a soft “hm.”

Yu Wen: “What should we do?”

Youhuo said lazily, “I’m a little hungry — wait until they serve the meal.”

Yu Wen: “……”

Who are you trying to scare?

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