Chapter 93

The three were arranged in two rooms—Zhao Xiaoyu in one, Su Bei and Si Zhaohua in another. The rooms were indeed luxurious, like five-star hotel suites, with fresh fruit platters clearly meant for enjoyment.

The three gathered, and Si Zhaohua first activated a Jammer in the room, another item from the Campus Store that could disrupt Abilities and electronic signals. Su Bei had redeemed one during the team battles.

Once sure no one could eavesdrop, he spoke: "If it comes to it, we find the person who can touch the crystal ball first. If we hold them hostage and take the crystal with us, we can surely find a way to escape safely later."

This was indeed a plan, and Zhao Xiaoyu perked up: "Then we split tasks. You two find a way to escape, and I’ll find that person."

Su Bei thought for a moment and raised his hand: "I’ll go alone. At my age, no one should deliberately trouble me."

"What are you going to do alone?" Si Zhaohua was puzzled. Though to reassure others about eating the pill, this place likely wouldn’t hassle a surrendered Su Bei, he was just a kid—what could he do alone?

Su Bei blinked with a smile: "Maybe I’ll have some unexpected gains? Don’t underestimate a kid’s ability to act."

Zhao Xiaoyu made the final call: "Then you go alone, but you must return at noon and 8 p.m. every day, okay?"

"No problem!"

Late at night, Zhao Xiaoyu went to sleep, and Su Bei and Si Zhaohua washed up and went to bed. Less than ten minutes after lying down, Si Zhaohua’s voice suddenly sounded in the dark: "Yan Nan, are you asleep?"

"Not yet," Su Bei answered immediately.

Si Zhaohua turned to look at him: "I have the Jammer on now; no one can hear us. Can I know who brought you to the auction?"

As expected, he was suspicious of his identity. Su Bei wasn’t ready to reveal himself yet, so he feigned hurt: "You don’t trust me?"

Si Zhaohua quickly explained: "I trust you, but..."

Before he could finish, Su Bei cut him off: "Then that’s that."

After a pause, Si Zhaohua said: "Okay, I actually don’t fully trust you..."

Su Bei interrupted again: "What a coincidence, I don’t fully trust you either, so I can’t tell you my identity."

Si Zhaohua: "..."

He finally realized: "You little punk, are you messing with me?"

With this attitude, where was any trace of hurt? He was clearly teasing him!

Hearing "little punk," a phrase Meng Huai often used, Su Bei couldn’t hold back a laugh. Si Zhaohua, such a refined young master, had lost his elegance—his homeroom teacher’s influence was indeed strong.

Hearing his laughter, Si Zhaohua felt even more played, growling: "You’re done. When we get back, I’m telling your parents!"

Su Bei’s smile faded slightly, and he looked at the ceiling: "Talk to them when you find them."

The next morning, the three pretended to visit the reception room to persuade surrender but were actually hinting not to give in. Then they left with sighs and went their separate ways.

Su Bei wandered aimlessly like a real kid, going wherever seemed fun, showing no intent to gather intel all morning.

The people here mostly spoke foreign languages, with only those frequently dealing with hostages using their familiar language. Though he understood and could speak, to maintain his eight-year-old persona and lower others’ guard, Su Bei pretended not to understand foreign languages.

That evening, he read manga in the hall, which others saw as study materials. Though there was no signal, downloaded content remained, so no one suspected anything, just thinking he loved studying.

The next morning, he played all day again, exploring the base and even strolling outside under the kidnappers’ noses.

It was indeed a sea island, not large, with only one dock. The terrain sloped from low to high, with a high cliff opposite the dock. Even with the sea below, jumping would mean certain death.

That evening, he pretended to study a bit more, then approached the kidnapper who had most appreciated his studiousness.

"Sister, I’ve finished the study materials I downloaded. Do you have others here?" The brown-haired boy spoke in slightly clumsy, grammatically flawed foreign language, looking earnest. No one would doubt his passion for learning.

But how could a group of adults, long graduated, have study materials? He was destined to get no satisfying answer.

Seeing the Yellow-Skirt Kidnapper look troubled, Su Bei sensibly settled for less: "Then are there books? My teacher said extracurricular materials are useful too."

They did have those, but not everyone could access them. Seeing Su Bei’s expectant look, Yellow-Skirt gritted her teeth: "I’ll apply for you. If it works, you can go. If not, take a few days to relax—studying isn’t urgent."

Su Bei knew not to push, nodding obediently: "Then thank you, Sister."

That evening, Yellow-Skirt went to her superior, the Scorpion-Braid Woman.

"You want to let that kid Yan Nan go to the data room?" The Scorpion-Braid Woman frowned. "Since when are you so soft?"

Yellow-Skirt wasn’t too nervous, just sighed: "I have a younger brother at home, but he hates studying. We’ve fought over it several times. It’s rare to see such a studious kid, so I thought I’d help."

Seeing her superior still unconvinced, she persuaded: "What schemes could an eight-year-old have? How could he know I’d help? Even if he did, how could he know only the data room has books? And even if he saw the data, he probably couldn’t understand it. Adults struggle with it."

This was why she dared make the request. Even if Su Bei had ulterior motives, he was powerless against the key data. A pile of numbers could dizzy an adult—let alone an eight-year-old third-grader.

With them watching from the monitoring room, there was no worry about him taking photos. There’d be no issues.

The Scorpion-Braid Woman was swayed, hesitating: "Wait, let me check."

She opened the surveillance, reviewing Su Bei’s actions over the past two days. At least from the footage, he showed no intent to gather intel. Due to the kidnappers, he barely dared speak, playing alone in the morning and obediently reading in the afternoon.

Such an obedient kid was rare, so the Scorpion-Braid Woman nodded: "Fine, but while he’s in the data room, you must arrange someone to accompany or monitor him to prevent any actions against us."

One could never be too cautious—many had suffered losses underestimating kids.

Getting permission, Yellow-Skirt excitedly returned to Su Bei, telling him the good news and arranging for him to go to the data room tomorrow.

Hearing it was the data room, Su Bei smiled with satisfaction. Though he hadn’t chatted with anyone these two days, he could tell from their behavior that the base’s members weren’t highly educated—likely Ability Academy graduates who hadn’t attended university and hadn’t read in years.

Without reading, there was no need for a library or archive. The most likely place for books was the data room.

Sure enough, he was right.

Yellow-Skirt said this during dinner, with Si Zhaohua and Zhao Xiaoyu present. They only showed surprise but didn’t tactlessly ask to go too.

But once Yellow-Skirt left, they surrounded Su Bei. Zhao Xiaoyu praised: "Not bad! You even got into the data room—how’d you do it?"

Si Zhaohua was incredulous: "They actually agreed? Just because you’re a kid?"

Su Bei struck an obedient, chin-resting pose, looking innocent: "Probably because I’m obedient and cute."

The table fell silent.

Thank goodness only Zhao Xiaoyu and Si Zhaohua were here, or there’d be a chorus of gagging.

The next morning at eight, Yellow-Skirt came to fetch Su Bei, taking him to the data room door. She told him he could only read books, nothing else, then left for the monitoring room, citing an excuse.

She was a bit afraid of misjudging him and wanted to supervise personally.

After Yellow-Skirt left, Su Bei entered the small library-like data room, casually strolling through it. In one lap, he already spotted where the important data was.

Unlike the neatly bound books, there were stacks of File Folders and a few single sheets, likely the data.

But Su Bei only glanced briefly, looking uninterested, and passed by. After skimming the entire data room, he returned, picked a travelogue, sat on the sofa, and read with relish.

Yellow-Skirt watched from behind for a full hour. Su Bei showed no sign of moving, quietly reading without even changing posture. If not for occasional page-turning, she’d think the feed froze.

Such behavior satisfied Yellow-Skirt, confirming she hadn’t misjudged him. She assigned someone else to watch and went to her tasks.

Su Bei didn’t know the watcher had changed, but even if he did, he wouldn’t act rashly. It had only been a short time—some things couldn’t be rushed.

Meanwhile, the reception room’s group, under Zhao Xiaoyu’s hints, held firm. It wasn’t about strong willpower but the knowledge that compromising would ruin their futures unless everyone but the compromiser died. Who among these ambitious climbers would dare act rashly?

Fortunately, Zhao Xiaoyu’s guess was spot-on. The next day, the kidnappers brought food. Though the quality was poor, it was enough to fill them up.

The kidnappers called it pity, but the group, forewarned by Zhao Xiaoyu, felt reassured, not believing a word.

This food delivery stabilized the hostages’ emotions. They realized Zhao Xiaoyu’s hints were correct—the kidnappers wouldn’t let them starve or die easily.

Before rescue arrived, they’d only suffer, not face mortal danger.

With this realization, anyone who cared about their future wouldn’t surrender.

While the rear stabilized, the front made progress. In the two days Su Bei read his travelogue, Si Zhaohua and Zhao Xiaoyu completed their tasks.

Si Zhaohua found an escape method. The island was surrounded by sea, so the only escape route was the dock.

Naturally, the kidnappers knew this, so the dock was heavily guarded, making escape nearly impossible.

But since it was the only route, they had to investigate. Every Friday at 2 p.m., a supply ship arrived, docked for an hour, and left. That hour was their best chance to escape.

The ship was manned by ordinary people, easily subdued. If they could distract the others, they could board and leave.

While his side was manageable, Zhao Xiaoyu found the only person who could touch the Loyalty Crystal, but bad news followed. The person was in a coma, and only the Scorpion-Braid Woman could wake them.

But obviously, the Scorpion-Braid Woman would only wake them when the Academy arrived. By then, she’d have prepared thoroughly, making it nearly impossible for them to succeed.

If the crystal was taken, those who hadn’t eaten the pill would die instantly. Did they really have to risk Zhao Xiaoyu testing if touching the crystal would make her explode?

Finding no other way, Zhao Xiaoyu became despondent, locking herself in her room.

She really didn’t want to die. All her efforts were to live better. If this didn’t involve her and only she could save others by trying, she’d refuse—she wasn’t that selfless.

This was a nine-out-of-ten chance of death! The Scorpion-Braid Woman said that though weaker Ability users could theoretically touch the Loyalty Crystal, only one succeeded. The rest died!

But since it involved her—if she didn’t try, not only would others die, but she would too. This made Zhao Xiaoyu miserable.

Rationally, she knew she had to try, but emotionally, she couldn’t help thinking—what if the Academy had a solution when they arrived? That was better than her going to her death, right?

In short—Zhao Xiaoyu didn’t want to do it.

After learning what happened, Si Zhaohua didn’t persuade her. Who could righteously urge someone to die? That was too shameless, and Si Zhaohua couldn’t do it.

He tried finding other solutions, ideally without involving Zhao Xiaoyu. But Zhao Xiaoyu was so meticulous and smart. If even she, facing life and death, thought there was no other way, how could Si Zhaohua find one?

As everything stalled, Su Bei suddenly came to borrow Si Zhaohua’s Jammer.

"What are you doing?" Si Zhaohua, still tirelessly seeking solutions, asked, puzzled.

Su Bei put on a sage-like expression: "You’ll know later."

An eight-year-old making this face was somewhat comical, but Si Zhaohua wasn’t in the mood to laugh. He didn’t refuse, teaching Su Bei how to use the item and warning: "Don’t use this carelessly. If they find out, we’ll all be locked up again."

Su Bei nodded. He wouldn’t use it carelessly—he was seeking a way to break the stalemate.

Unlike Zhao Xiaoyu and Si Zhaohua, who were in the situation, Su Bei, with his omniscient perspective, knew Zhao Xiaoyu could safely touch the Loyalty Crystal. Otherwise, how could this situation be resolved?

After all, she was part of the protagonist group—she had to have something special.

But how could he tell her this?

A simple method was to reveal his identity and tell Zhao Xiaoyu he foresaw she could touch the Loyalty Crystal.

It was a method, but it would ruin his persona. As a fun-loving character hiding his identity to watch the show, revealing himself just to tell Zhao Xiaoyu she could destroy the crystal would scream cowardice.

A cowardly persona could work—Zhao Xiaoyu could pull it off, and sacrificing herself despite it would win readers’ love.

But not him. His persona wasn’t like that.

To be a true fun-lover, you had to care about no one’s life, including your own. Wanting to watch the show while fearing death made you a sleazy villain.

So he couldn’t directly give the answer. He had to find clues leading to it himself.

That afternoon, he went to the data room as usual, watched by the assigned monitor, who, as usual, observed him via surveillance.

But Su Bei had been well-behaved for three days, causing no trouble. The watcher had long relaxed, dozing off in the chair, occasionally glancing at the screen to confirm Su Bei hadn’t moved before closing their eyes again.

This had been his state for three days—motionless while reading except for page-turning. The watcher was used to it.

But he didn’t know that today’s footage wasn’t live but a still image. Su Bei posed, activated the Jammer, and froze the surveillance.

Meanwhile, he was frantically searching through the data.

Opening File Folder after File Folder, some contained text records, others data. Text records were easy to distinguish, but none were useful.

There were a few data sheets. Excluding those with headers and irrelevant content, Su Bei finally found a table with only data, no other markings.

The leftmost column was numbered 1-10, likely experiment numbers. The top row, from left to right, was 6-0, which Su Bei didn’t yet understand.

The middle numbers were chaotic, with the only pattern being the rightmost column, where all but the first and fifth were 0.

What did these numbers mean?

To understand a table, you needed to know what the rows and columns represented. If this was indeed data on touching the Loyalty Crystal, the leftmost column likely represented experimenters 1-10.

What did 6-0 mean?

Thinking it over, Su Bei decided to brainstorm. He wasn’t alone—why think it through himself? His two teammates were smarter than the next. Seeing it was almost his usual break time, Su Bei quickly memorized the data, restored everything, returned to the sofa, and deactivated the Jammer.

He didn’t have a photographic memory and couldn’t recall the chaotic numbers in such a short time. But that was fine—memorizing what mattered was enough. What mattered? Besides what he didn’t understand, the outliers.

As usual, he read until 7:30 p.m., then left. After dinner, he looked at the pale, cold-faced Zhao Xiaoyu: "Sister, come to my room. I need to talk."

Hearing this, Zhao Xiaoyu slightly raised her eyes, uninterested: "What? Sister’s tired. If it’s nothing..."

"It’s important," Su Bei cut her off, emphasizing. "I didn’t understand some study content and want to ask Sister."

Study matters important? Zhao Xiaoyu was about to refuse when a spark hit her. Studying? Hadn’t this kid been in the data room studying?

Her eyes lit up: "Alright, let’s go now."

Si Zhaohua naturally followed. Su Bei wrote down the data he memorized, admitting some he forgot: "I’m just a kid—how could I remember so much? Those numbers seemed random anyway, so it probably doesn’t matter."

The other two didn’t blame him. For a kid to find such crucial intel alone was already impressive.

The three studied the table. The middle numbers indeed had no pattern, fluctuating between 100-0, whether top-to-bottom or left-to-right.

The only patterns were what Su Bei noted: the rightmost column was all 0 except the last, which was 20, and the leftmost column (besides the number column) ranged between 99-95.

With no other leads, the unique data deserved attention.

Among the zeros in the last column, only one ended in 20.

More notably, unlike the chaotic data, this set was orderly, decreasing steadily from 95 to 20 without fluctuations.

If nothing else, this was likely the only successful experimenter. The 0s, they vaguely guessed, meant death—"These 0s probably mean death, right?"

Now the key was figuring out what the header 6-0 meant.

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