Chapter 17
Before Shao Lan could think further, a desperate cry came from outside.
He and Jiang Mingran exchanged a look and went out together.
The cries weren’t on the eighth floor, but the seventh, carrying up the emergency stairwell.
A man in a suit knelt beside the elevator, sobbing himself hoarse. “I pressed it by mistake! It was a mistake! I don’t want to do a scenario! I don’t want to die! Let me go! Please!”
The property manager stood before him, wearing her professional smile. Politely, she said, “Resident, pressing the elevator button is taken as a request to join a game. You cannot change your mind.”
“It was a mistake! I told you, it was a mistake! Don’t make me get in! I don’t want to play again! I’ll die! I’m begging you!” Tears streamed down his face.
The property manager smiled, motionless.
The suited man broke down. He lunged straight for the corridor, trying to escape!
In a flash, the petite property manager was in his path.
“Are you attempting to violate the resident regulations of Xingfu Estate?” she asked gently.
He gritted his teeth and tried to shove her aside.
“I told you, I don’t want to play! You…”
The words broke off in his throat, becoming a scream.
A loud crack came from his left leg. Then his right.
Smiling, the property manager reached out and broke both his legs. Watching him crawl, she reached out again and snapped his arms.
She tossed him, all four limbs broken, into the open elevator like a piece of rubbish. With a smiling bow, she said, “Enjoy your game.”
The doors closed, hiding his blood-smeared face.
It was easy to imagine that he would never survive.
The elevator led to a world of unimaginable horror. He couldn’t even stand.
No wonder she’d told them to take the stairs between floors, warning of grave consequences if they used the elevator.
Pressing its button counted as applying to join a game.
The application couldn’t be withdrawn. You had to honor it. If you refused, someone like the property manager would help you honor it.
Both Shao Lan and Jiang Mingran were a little pale.
“Is she a monster, too…?” Jiang Mingran murmured.
As an athlete, he’d always been confident in his strength. But breaking a grown man’s limbs barehanded was beyond human ability.
And the property manager had looked as relaxed as if she were playing with a Barbie doll. She hadn’t even used her full strength.
The elevator fell quiet again. They stood by its doors for a while, then returned to their rooms.
Before going in, Shao Lan glanced instinctively at 801.
He paused.
Where its door had stood was now a solid stretch of wall.
The room had vanished into thin air.
So that was why… Why the third floor had only 303, with no 301 or 302.
The residents who’d lived in those rooms had already “checked out.”
When a resident died, their room vanished as well.
How had they died? Starved, like the woman in 801? Or forced into a scenario, then killed there?
The thought made him deeply uncomfortable. But there was nothing else he could do. He returned to his room, boiled an egg and a potato, and ate a hasty meal.
After resting for a while, he went to 804 to check on Uncle Bing.
The old man sat staring on the edge of his bed. Everything that had happened was clearly more than he could bear. His eyes were red. His thin right hand held a worn wallet while his left wiped away tears.
With mobile payments so common now, perhaps only older people like Uncle Bing still carried wallets. The cash inside was useless in this building. He only stroked a photograph gently.
Shao Lan looked at it. A little girl gazed out, very cute, with large, bright eyes like two black grapes.
“My granddaughter. My daughter’s girl. Her name’s Tangtang.” Uncle Bing sighed softly at the photograph.
“My wife died in childbirth, after having our daughter. I raised my girl on what I earned at that food stall.”
“At last she graduated, got a job, married. My son-in-law was a good man, too. But neither of them lived long… They just left me a little granddaughter.”
“I named her Tangtang, after sugar. Hoped her life would be sweet as honey, without all the bitterness her mother and grandmother had…”
Tangtang was the main reason Uncle Bing had held on until now.
“Might never see her again.” He wiped away tears. “Don’t even know how she’s doing.”
“Have you eaten?” Shao Lan asked.
Uncle Bing paused.
“You have to stay alive yourself before you have a chance of seeing your granddaughter.” Shao Lan’s voice was calm.
“Is there… still a chance?” Uncle Bing murmured.
“I don’t know. But if you die, there definitely isn’t,” Shao Lan said. “Stay alive first. There has to be a way out. We’ll keep looking.”
He paused. “I want to get out as soon as possible, too. Just like you.”
His words seemed to have some magic. Uncle Bing slowly pulled himself together.
There was something reassuring about this young man. If he said there was a way out, there must be.
Once Uncle Bing had steadied, Shao Lan first asked him about the numbers.
As expected, he found one, too. On the calf of his bad leg.
XCVI.
His number was the largest of the three: ninety-six. More than twice Jiang Mingran’s forty-one.
He clearly had no idea when the scar had appeared, either.
“My leg just felt itchy. Like a wound healing over.” Uncle Bing pressed the scar. “When did I get burned?”
Shao Lan had no answer.
There were too many mysteries here to solve at once. Staying alive came first.
Seeing that Uncle Bing had neither eaten nor drunk anything, Shao Lan tried to take him to his own room.
At first, Uncle Bing refused. “I can’t spend your money.”
“It won’t cost anything,” Shao Lan said. “I’ve bought the induction cooker anyway. Might as well use it. I can at least boil some water.”
Water and electricity were free here. They might as well take advantage.
Only then did Uncle Bing follow him to 802. Shao Lan had boiled some tap water earlier. Now it had cooled to a comfortable temperature.
Uncle Bing drank without lifting his head. He really was thirsty.
When Shao Lan offered him food as well, he flatly refused. He learned to use the vending machine, bought a potato himself, and cooked it on Shao Lan’s induction cooker.
“Xiao Shao, I won’t buy a cooker, then. How about I pay you every time I use yours? Don’t know if we can transfer this money. If not, I’ll buy something and give you that instead…”
His face was a little red. He was an honest man and didn’t like taking advantage of others. But with only five hundred yuan, he really couldn’t bear to spend 128 on a cooker.
“It’s fine. I’ve bought it already,” Shao Lan said. “Using it more will help me feel I’m getting my money’s worth.”
For now, he didn’t mention the ten thousand yuan he had.
Uncle Bing and Jiang Mingran seemed good people. But Shao Lan was cautious by nature. He’d decided not to show his wealth at this stage.
The starving woman in 801 and the man on the seventh floor who’d begged not to enter the elevator proved how hard it was to earn a living here.
Under those circumstances, showing off money would make him an easy target.
Even if Uncle Bing and Jiang Mingran were good people, extreme despair, hunger, and fear could turn a good person into a devil.
Shao Lan didn’t want to gamble on human nature.
Uncle Bing ate his own potato. Shao Lan boiled another pot of water and set it aside to cool. Just then, someone knocked.
“Hey, it’s me. Xiao Jiang.”
“Come in.”
“Something to talk over with you.” Jiang Mingran came in. “There’s a girl who wants to join our team…”