Awakening the Daily Intelligence System

Chapter 804: 403 an angry python_2

Mark’s face twisted into a cold sneer as he suddenly lifted his foot. Like he was kicking a filthy, grimy soccer ball, he forcefully punted those three horrifying severed heads aside and spat out a few icy words: “If you’re dead, stop being an eyesore. Get lost!”

At that moment, a crackling electric sound filled the room and the live stream simultaneously. The noise was like countless tiny bugs crawling near their ears, sending shivers down one’s spine. Soon after, that chillingly cold voice, as if it could freeze one’s soul, floated into the space once again:

“Congratulations to you both for passing the first trial. Now, you have one minute to decide whether to stay here and face death or proceed into the next room. Make your choice.”

As soon as those cold words faded, the iron door that had been tightly sealed with hydraulic locks let out a sharp “click” and began to slowly creak open, revealing a slim, narrow gap. It was like a mysterious passageway leading to another unknown world.

When the iron door began to open and Lin Mo’s voice echoed once more, the live stream audience, upon realizing there truly was a second trial, immediately erupted with excitement. They became as ecstatic as if they’d been injected with adrenaline.

“Haha, I knew there would definitely be a second round! No way the streamer would let these two scumbags off so easily, that’s impossible!”

“These two jerks just barely managed to remove the collars from their necks unharmed, and now there’s another challenge waiting for them. I seriously wonder what they’re thinking right now—I bet their expressions are priceless. I really want to see.”

“Hurry up and go in already! Why are these two idiots dawdling? I can’t wait to find out what kind of traps the streamer has set for this round. It’s bound to be thrilling!”

“Hmph, no matter what kind of traps are set, it’s just more of the same—torture methods. What’s there to look forward to? It’s all just blood and violence.”

“Oh please, it’s easy for you to talk from your high perch. How about you go and experience one of the streamer’s traps yourself and see if you’d still be spouting this dismissive nonsense then?”

“Exactly! People like you who hypocritically criticize from the sidelines while watching the stream should be forced into this death game to get a taste of their own medicine!”

“If you’re so uninterested, why are you even watching the stream? Stop pretending. People like you talk all high and mighty, but your curiosity locks you in just like the rest of us.”

While the live stream viewers argued back and forth, Oscar and Mark still hesitated in the room, unable to make a decision.

Mark glanced over at the three headless corpses slumped against the wall, then turned to look at the slowly opening iron door. Anxiety churned inside him as he blurted out, “Brother Oscar, what should we do now? This whole situation is a nightmare.”

“What else can we do? That person has made it crystal clear: staying here means certain death. We really don’t have another option. Let’s go!” Oscar’s expression was grim, his voice laced with a sense of resignation and determination.

With that, he took the lead, striding toward the door. He pulled it open forcefully and stepped through.

Mark stood frozen for a moment, as if suddenly remembering something. He quickly rushed to the corner of the room, picked up the three keys he had previously discarded, carefully tucked them into his pocket, and then followed Oscar into the doorway.

“Bang!”

As soon as Mark passed through the iron door, it slammed shut behind him with a heavy thud. The hydraulic locks once again sealed the door firmly, as if severing them completely from the outside world.

Suddenly, bright lights flickered on, illuminating this new room. In the center stood a rectangular iron box, shaped eerily like a coffin. The box emitted a cold metallic gleam, exuding an inexplicable sense of dread. On the side facing the iron door were five circular openings, like gaping mouths, while the top was covered with reinforced glass. Through the glass, five chainsaw blades were visible, each corresponding to one of the openings. The last opening was distinctly larger, roughly the size of a soccer ball, making it stand out from the rest.

Beneath the box was a cage formed by steel wires thick as fingers. Inside the cage sat a beaker as wide as a bowl and as long as a forearm. A thumb-thick rubber tube extended straight into the beaker, and near the top of the beaker, two wires were installed. The wires coiled from the beaker opening and snaked all the way to another tightly sealed iron door within the room.

“Welcome to the second trial, Sacrifice. The human body is an extraordinary masterpiece. Normally, the red fluid within a human body accounts for about eight percent of total body weight. For an average person weighing 60 kilograms, this amounts to roughly 4,800 milliliters of red fluid. Losing 1,000 milliliters of that fluid in a short period poses a severe threat to survival.

The beaker in front of you has a capacity of 3,000 milliliters. The purpose of the device before you is for one of you to make a sacrifice and contribute your red fluid. If you want to escape this room, you must fill the beaker to at least halfway, thereby activating the mechanism to open the escape door. This apparatus offers no shortcuts—it is designed only to extract one person’s red fluid to achieve the goal. And keep in mind, losing 1,000 milliliters of red fluid could put your life in grave danger.

However, all of this is secondary. The true focus here is time.

You have five minutes. If the beaker is not filled to the required level within this time frame, the explosives planted around the room will detonate, and the door will forever remain sealed.

So, I must ask: how much of your red fluid are you willing to sacrifice to save your life?

Your fate is yours to decide.”

As the voice faded, the chainsaws inside the iron box roared to life, spinning furiously and emitting a terrifying hum, like a pack of ravenous beasts preparing to attack.

At the same time, the timer above the iron door lit up, beginning its five-minute countdown.

“Beep… beep… beep…”

The sound of the electronic timer ticking echoed through the eerily quiet room, each beep seeming to hammer directly onto Oscar and Mark’s chests, quickening their heartbeats.

The oppressive atmosphere weighed heavy, making it hard to breathe. Oscar exhaled a deep, stifled breath, but his face grew even darker, resembling the sky before a raging storm.

Beside him, Mark couldn’t hold back any longer and let out a furious stream of curses: “Damn it! You bastard, let me out of here now! What kind of sick game is this?! What the hell is this place?!”

In truth, both men knew full well that even if they each placed their hands into the machine to sacrifice their red fluid within the five minutes, the resulting massive, grisly wounds on their hands would cause them to rapidly lose blood. Even if they managed to open the door and escape, they’d likely collapse from blood loss within minutes, ultimately meeting their end.

They both understood that this device was yet another meticulously planned trap by the Dark Law Enforcer, meant to completely destroy their fragile trust in one another with precision and cruelty.

Witnessing this scene, the live stream audience quickly grasped Lin Mo’s intent.

“Haha, even if both of them sacrifice their red fluid, while they might not die immediately, the gaping wounds on their hands will keep bleeding. In the end, they’ll die anyway. Now, this is going to be fun to watch!”

“The streamer is brilliant, using their survival instincts to pit these two scumbags against each other. People like them only care about their own lives—there’s no way they’d sacrifice for someone else.”

“Honestly, I have a gut feeling that this isn’t as straightforward as it seems.”