Chapter 13

Seeing the door open, Feng Bujue let out a sigh of relief. He did not rush out immediately but instead, using the light from outside, he walked to the cage where the monkey was kept, unlocked it, lifted the gate, and carried out the monkey that was in a deep sleep.

【Name: Drowsy Tibetan Macaque】

【Type: Plot-related】

【Quality: Common】

【Function: Unknown】

【Can it be taken out of the script: Yes】

【Note: A lively and brave monkey, now on the brink of extinction】

"A plot item, yet it shows that it can be taken out of the script, hmm..." Feng Bujue mused. He tried to put the monkey into his bag, and it worked. Then he walked out of the room.

Outside the door was a corridor, mostly made of metal, with a ceiling height of about four to five meters. The lighting was normal, and there were no windows to be found. On both sides of the corridor were some doors and forks, but either they couldn't be opened or were blocked by large debris. The true path was clearly only one, and red spray-painted arrows on the walls occasionally guided Feng Bujue on how to proceed. After several futile attempts, he realized that he wouldn't find anything useful on this stretch of the path, so he sped up and followed the arrows, reaching the end of the corridor in about seven to eight minutes. There, another metal door marked in red appeared.

This door had no handle, but a round valve wheel in the center. Feng Bujue walked up to it, gripped the wheel, and tried to turn it, feeling considerable resistance. He had to use a lot of strength to turn it.

After turning it more than halfway, the door moved, and a cold draft seeped through the gap. Feng Bujue instantly had a bad feeling. When he pushed the door open, he found that the metal door was very thick, and the room was clearly a sealed freezer. A strong cold blast hit him as soon as he opened the door.

The room was truly an "icy world," with white frost and snow covering the ground, and signs of ice on the walls. Looking up, he saw that in three corners of the ceiling, there were pipes about one meter in diameter. As soon as the door opened, white snowflakes began to fall from the pipes, but fortunately, they were sparse and not too many.

Feng Bujue took a deep breath, blew warm air into his palms, and rubbed his hands together before entering the room. After stepping over the threshold, he noticed that the floor was lower than the bottom of the door, not on the same level as the corridor outside. The thin layer of white frost on the ground was actually knee-deep snow. When he stepped in, his ankles sank into the snow, and the cold made him quickly hop a few steps, but it was useless. The snow was soft, and the only way to prevent his feet from sinking was to increase the contact area, so he decisively knelt down...

He didn't close the door and directly knelt down to the opposite wall, where another door was located. This door had no handle but an electronic lock embedded in it, with a display showing four empty password slots. Next to the lock on the wall was a clearly movable iron plate, about ten centimeters on each side, square, with a small handle. When Feng Bujue pulled the plate, the iron door that had let him into the room automatically closed.

Behind the iron plate was a small space with a cassette tape. The next step was clear...

Feng Bujue took out the tape and his Walkman, removed the tape already inside and put it in his bag, then inserted the new tape and pressed the play button.

"Merry Christmas, Arthur. This is a day for family gatherings, and the Christmas spirit also means selfless giving and blessings..."

While listening to the recording, Feng Bujue began a second, more detailed inspection of the room. He had already noticed the most prominent thing in the room: a newspaper that looked quite new, pasted on one side of the metal wall. The wall had clearly been treated, and the ice around the newspaper was not severe. Despite the artificial snow, the room's humidity was not too high, and the words on the paper were still very clear. The most prominent headline was "They Are Not So Different from Us," with a photo of a group of homeless people huddled around a waste oil drum for warmth, with snow falling in the background and the ground white. Of course, this report was also written by "Arthur Sig."

"You often attend charity galas and appear in front of the camera, but we all know that in private, you never donate to any organization. You urge people not to discriminate against the homeless, but you never show respect to anyone with a lower social status than you. Your cruelty and snobbery make everyone around you feel sick. You have also spoken for the elderly, claiming they need more attention and understanding, but you always use work as an excuse to avoid spending Thanksgiving and Christmas with your own parents.

Arthur, you have more than once stood on the moral high ground to criticize the world's indifference and the unfairness of the system, but your actions show that you don't know what you're talking about.

Now, you have the chance to understand how the helpless people get through their difficulties. In this snow-filled room, there is a piece of hard paper with the password to unlock the door. Your task is to reach into the snow under your feet to find that piece of paper.

Just like every person on the street in the snow, you have no time limit, but even if you find something, the best outcome is to survive until dawn..."

The recording ended, and Feng Bujue was already shivering from the cold. The game-provided clothing could keep players comfortable in a virtual temperature of over twenty degrees Celsius, but in this ice-cold room, which was clearly below zero, and with the three pipes on the ceiling slowly adding more snow, the cold was intense.

To keep his fingers flexible, Feng Bujue blew warm air into his palms. He quickly reviewed the recording in his mind and then repeated the last sentence aloud: "Just like those who are freezing... finding 'something' will help you survive until dawn..." He speculated that this was the only clue, quite obscure but definitely significant.

Feng Bujue stood up again, his knees already completely frozen. Now, stepping into the snow with both feet didn't matter because he couldn't feel the cold anymore. He staggered to the newspaper, staring intently at the report and photo, searching for any possible clues.

Feng Bujue knew that this was the best time to search for clues, and physical labor could wait until there was no other choice. If he impatiently stuck his hands into the snow to dig, in five minutes, even if his fingers didn't freeze off, his body temperature would drop, and if he became sluggish and dazed from the cold, solving the puzzle would be impossible.

"Something that can help the homeless survive until dawn..." Feng Bujue said to focus his attention: "A few people huddled around a drum, burning trash to stay warm until dawn? No, no, that's not it..." Suddenly, an image of a man with sunglasses flashed in his mind: "Got it... MADAO's three essentials for street living: a cardboard box, a dog, and a radio." With this in mind, he started to act.

The newspaper was fixed to the wall with four small pieces of tape at the corners. Feng Bujue carefully tore the corners to remove the newspaper without damaging the large central part.

"A dog is impossible unless I make one out of snow. A radio... the Walkman should count. As for the cardboard box..." Feng Bujue had already taken the newspaper off the wall, and although the corners were missing small pieces, it didn't affect what he needed to do.

The newspaper was quite new, so the creases were very clear. Normally, a newspaper is folded no more than twice, but this one had many creases, indicating it had been folded into something specific.

Feng Bujue followed the creases to fold the newspaper. His hands were not yet stiff, but the extreme cold was affecting him. In fact, his game menu already showed the special status "Frozen" next to his survival value.

Despite the missing corners, Feng Bujue managed to fold the newspaper into a small box. He examined it from different angles and finally found a series of letters and numbers where several edges overlapped.

The letters and numbers on the newspaper were not all the same format. Occasionally, there were different sizes and styles, such as those used in headlines or image captions, which differed from those in the text. Additionally, there were issues with capitalization.

The letters and numbers Feng Bujue found were all the same size and style, all in uppercase, and when the newspaper was folded, they aligned neatly in one small section.

"FM27.3MHZ..." Feng Bujue read aloud, "An amateur radio frequency..." He adjusted the Walkman to receive broadcasts.

All frequencies produced static, including FM27.3, but he confirmed the frequency and increased the volume, waiting patiently. Indeed, after about forty seconds of static, a hoarse voice said, "Nine, five, two, seven," followed by more static.

Feng Bujue quickly rushed to the door, inputting the password while muttering, "What a lousy password, meaning 'low-class people and dogs are not allowed to enter'...?"

Sure enough, the password was correct, and the door opened. Feng Bujue tumbled out of the room, rolling on the ground in the corridor, then stood up and did over twenty straight-arm squats. During this process, he checked his menu, and his survival value had dropped to 67%, but the frozen state quickly dissipated in the normal temperature.

Regardless, coming out this way was better than digging through the snow with his hands to find the paper. Feng Bujue's luck in games was usually very poor, and a task like searching for a needle in a haystack would have taken him much longer to find the paper under the snow.

After passing the second level, he didn't immediately turn off the Walkman. He soon discovered the pattern: every minute or so, FM27.3 would repeat the four-digit password, while other frequencies remained static.

After regaining his body temperature, Feng Bujue continued forward. He estimated that the script did not plan or calculate how long it would take "Arthur Sig" to reach the hospital and receive treatment after escaping. The initial recording stated he had forty minutes to find the exit or die from the toxins in his body. However, his menu never showed a "poisoned" status, and he couldn't determine whether the decrease in his survival value was due to the cold or the slow-acting toxins. In short, this was not an obvious poisoning effect but a plot event, meaning he had to complete the script within forty minutes or it would be GAME OVER.

Feng Bujue had already spent over twenty minutes. His speed through the second level was relatively fast, and with the five minutes spent in the first room and the time running, he had about fifteen minutes left when he reached the third level. The system must have considered the possibility that players would choose to dig through the snow, which would take much longer. Therefore, considering the time factor, the next level Feng Bujue faced should be the last one. Completing it would end the script.

{Piaotian Literature}