Free Web NovelChapter 138: Chapter 138: This Might Be the Key to Breaking the Deadlock
The Lord sent something to Jiang Che again?
Xiong Jie didn’t say anything, just lowered his head silently. He didn’t know what it was, but that didn’t stop him from feeling jealous.
The groups of people were becoming clearer and clearer. Everyone lined up according to the color of their wristbands, forming several clusters.
Compared to the growing order inside the Dungeon, the live stream room was erupting into chaos.
The bus had stopped picking up new arrivals. It seemed the Lord up above had ordered it, and now even the bus driver stopped pretending about their scam.
At the entrance,
Viewers in the live stream saw a dozen humanoid models appear around the ticket vendor. Those humanoid posts sprouted fingers like the ticket vendor’s own, densely packed like sea urchins, growing out with no gaps at all.
The fingers on top kept twitching, as if they had lives of their own.
Ever since that group chopped off the ticket vendor’s finger and he didn’t resist, everyone was guessing if something would happen to them.
But nothing unexpected happened on the bus. They’d lost sight of that group once they got off.
After a few runs, those in the back started getting bolder.
Some still chose to harm themselves, or hurt others, but very few went the same route as Jiang Che—dodging the fare.
Because everyone believed, since this was a rules Dungeon, the rules had to be followed.
Some people set their sights on the ticket vendor.
After all, that was the only way that didn’t require hurting themselves or anyone else.
One group entered the station and, as usual, charged toward the ticket vendor. Just as they were about to chop off his fingers, the ticket vendor pulled out a dozen humanoid posts.
Those models had a forest of fingers growing out of them, identical to the ticket vendor’s hands.
The ticket vendor’s intention was obvious—he was providing everyone plenty of goods right here. You could cut fingers from these posts instead.
For a moment, everyone froze.
The ones about to make a move quickly withdrew their hands.
They stared in horror at those humanoid finger posts.
You couldn’t even see their faces anymore—their faces were completely covered in clusters of fingers.
But you could vaguely make out the clothes on some of the posts in the middle.
At a glance, incredibly familiar.
Modern clothing styles, and somehow so familiar—just like people who’d entered the Dungeon before.
At that moment, outside viewers watching the stream felt a jolt in their hearts. The comment feed went berserk.
[That’s the shirt! I know it! The guy who first chopped the ticket vendor’s finger!]
[Wait, aren’t they all dead?!]
[That’s just one batch. There are others who haven’t become finger posts, right?]
[It’s only a matter of time. They just went in later.]
[So what the hell happened inside?]
...
With the finger posts standing by the ticket vendor, those outside wanting to enter the Dungeon instantly regained their senses. Before, they hadn’t seen death; now, seeing people die—and dying like this—any lost reason snapped back into place.
"I want to know, how many are still alive inside?"
"I don’t know..." The people standing at the entrance hesitated for a long time. Some eventually gave up.
At first, their blood had rushed to their heads, turning into impulse—they thought they’d be the genius who beat the Dungeon with brains.
But as time passed, the impulse faded.
Since the live feed from the buses was blocked, they could only watch the station itself.
Apart from seeing people fight their own kind, there were no signs of deaths outside the Dungeon.
So, though they wanted to quit, a stubborn fire still smoldered within them.
A burning urge to try—but now that they’d seen death, even that urge evaporated.
Honestly, you could say those waiting in line to enter the Dungeon were all hesitating inside.
They didn’t stop anyone from cutting ahead, so they just kept standing at the back.
No new people entered the Dungeon anymore—even if they did, it was only small groups.
At the gate, people had already grouped up. Once colors were sorted, they realized—all the teams except white had almost the same number of people.
Even if there were differences, it was only a single extra person.
Jiang Che’s group wore white wristbands—from start to finish, only that handful had them.
After seeing this, many cast confused looks their way.
"I think, before we slaughter each other, we should take care of the outliers among us first." One person stepped forward, eyes fixed on Jiang Che’s group.
A weird mix.
Most importantly, he and his friend had come in together, on the same bus, but now were split into two different teams.
He couldn’t understand how Jiang Che’s group managed to stay in the same team.
"Let me make my strength clear: I’m Level Eight, basic tier. I know some of you here must be higher level." He squinted at the other group.
When he said his rank, he didn’t tell the truth—but he really was an entry Level Eight.
"Since we have to fight anyway, since our teams need winners and losers..."
"I think our first move should be solving the issue of this unusual group." He squinted, pointing at Jiang Che’s direction.
"Everyone must have noticed—no team here only has a few members, right?"
"I even wonder if the key to passing this round... is killing them?"
At his words, many turned toward Jiang Che’s group.
A few stood together, completely unlike the surrounding clustered groups.
"I agree. Maybe that’s the trick to breaking the game?" The lower-level ones stayed put; those who felt their levels were decent stepped out.
They looked at each other—clear understanding in each other’s eyes.
Jiang Che’s group was just a handful.
Maybe the advancement quota this round... was only as many as their number. Kill one, get a spot.
None of them doubted the possibility that a thousand people could be eliminated here.
If this were an event in the real world, it would never happen—human activities go for step-by-step elimination, removing a part at each round, keeping enough to participate in the next phase.
But for the world of evil spirits, they didn’t think the spirits cared for human rules.
Every past Dungeon—hundreds or thousands gone in a snap. Never seen a scrap of mercy from evil spirits.
They stared at Jiang Che’s six-person group.
What if—this round’s quota matched their number exactly?
Just as they wondered, the dozen or so who’d stepped up had a prompt whisper into their ears, audible only to themselves.
Chilling voice, followed by a wave of blood stench flooding their minds.
[Kill those six. The rest of you get to live.]
