Doomsday Wonderland

Doomsday Wonderland Chapter 1391: An Unspoken Discovery

Chapter 1391: An Unspoken Discovery

In theory, what Horst said wasn’t exactly wrong.

For posthumans, the law of the jungle was their survival principle, especially in pocket dimensions. Those who couldn’t adapt or overcome difficulties would simply die. However, Lin Sanjiu thought the current situation was different.

Just two days ago, they had all collaborated seamlessly in the Blue Wall Watcher game.

Not everyone had a life-and-death bond with each other, but it didn’t stop them from helping one another back then. They had divided responsibilities for searching eyewitness reports, collecting the sighting locations of the Blue Wall Watchers, and someone was even on a high point responsible for alerting. Now, just one game had changed, and they were so divided that they didn’t hesitate to risk other people’s lives. From advancing and retreating together to a fight for survival, it had taken only two days.

What was the difference between these life-threatening games?

When Lin Sanjiu sat down beside Han Suiping, her mind was full of these questions.

“You have a fever,” she murmured, unsure how much Han Suiping had heard. “Just hang in there until we get out, then we can treat you.”

Han Suiping seemed about to shake his head, but his strength gave out as soon as he moved. As Ji Shanqing quietly took a seat next to him, Han Suiping’s gaze wandered to the grand prize, and he opened his dry, chapped mouth.

“I… I know everything.”

Lin Sanjiu remained silent.

“You thought I was out cold… but I caught bits and pieces, here and there,” he said, his voice raspy from dehydration. “Today’s the second day, right? If we don’t make it out by tomorrow… even if you give me food, I’m going to die, aren’t I?”

Lin Sanjiu didn’t want to entertain the thought, but it was inevitable.

Han Suiping turned his gaze to the grand prize. “You’re so smart. You must have a plan, right?”

Ji Shanqing glanced at Lin Sanjiu. From her reaction, he had an inkling of how hard it was for humans to accept his solution to death.

“There is… a way,” he began. Seeing Lin Sanjiu stiffly nodding her head, he leaned down and quietly explained his idea to Han Suiping again. Lin Sanjiu could only stare at the two of them motionlessly, feeling like her mind was filled with splas.h.i.+ng thoughts and ideas, as if she was a stone slab shattered by heavy pressure.

What should she make of this solution?

Han Suiping’s body, memories, and even scars from the modern world would all be rewritten from the same set of data. From this perspective, he was still himself, only the vessel containing all his biological information had changed from a physical body to a storage component in the grand prize.

However, if the grand prize a.n.a.lyzed Han Suiping’s data at the age of 24, and then Han Suiping lived until he was 68 before dying, how could the rewritten 24-year-old Han Suiping possibly be the same as his 68-year-old self?

The more she thought about it, the more confused she became, so she decided not to think about it anymore. Han Suiping seemed to have also fallen into the same confusion and doubts she had just had and didn’t speak for a while.

“No human has ever faced this before, so there’s no philosophical or moral groundwork to help understand it,” Ji Shanqing said, shaking his head gently. “So, while I wouldn’t find it strange, you can choose how you want to think about it.”

“Guess it all… comes down to perspective.” Han Suiping’s face was pale, his expression caught between pain and shock. “I… I won’t feel any weird side effects or anything, right?”

“That’s right.”

“Really? None at all?”

“Really.”

Han Suiping was quiet for a moment. “So, let me get this straight…” He frowned, then continued, “My data gets uploaded… and then downloaded into another body. Even though the body is different, it’s still me, right?”

Ji Shanqing tilted his head, pausing thoughtfully before letting out a small sigh. “Yes, you could think of it that way.”

Han Suiping needed to find a perspective he could accept—Lin Sanjiu understood this very well. If someone believes their original body will die and only a copy of them will take their place, it’s hard to accept. But if they think they only switch bodies that are identical, with the same consciousness, it’s easier to accept.

One thing was clear: Han Suiping was leaning towards accepting the grand prize’s solution.

Perhaps this was only to be expected.

After living in the modern world, Lin Sanjiu understood Han Suiping—he was quick-witted and courageous, willing to use all his abilities and resources to overcome any difficulty. Now, he had suddenly changed from being a reliable teammate to a burden or even an hindrance, which he couldn’t bear.

As she had expected, even the vulnerability brought on by high fever and illness didn’t affect Han Suiping’s determination.

Lin Sanjiu didn’t leave. She quietly sat by his side for a while, talking sporadically, until he gradually lost consciousness and fell into a deep sleep. Then she stood up with the grand prize and returned to the fields.

Whether she would see Han Suiping again or not, at least she had properly said goodbye.

Nu Yue lifted her head from the field, asking with a bit of worry, “How is he? He… he’s okay, right?”

Lin Sanjiu nodded and coughed, attracting the attention of the remaining people. The more they were divided, the more openly she and the grand prize needed to share their plans.

Especially when it came to Han Suiping. Even if she was reluctant to bring it up, she had to admit that “removing” Han Suiping might temporarily mend the rifts between them, allowing them to work together again. At least, Horst’s proposal of each person paying their own taxes could be postponed for now.

After Ji Shanqing explained, Louisa responded with a hint of skepticism, “You can actually do that? It sounds like a win-win.”

She clearly hadn’t pondered the depths of the situation like Lin Sanjiu.

“To a.n.a.lyze his body’s information, I’ll need at least a day. Producing more food b.a.l.l.s today won’t be possible,” Ji Shanqing said calmly.

“If it’s just one day, that’s no big deal,” Horst said, looking slightly embarra.s.sed. He must not have antic.i.p.ated that his earlier outburst would lead to this point. “I was backed into a corner by the situation… I mean no harm to Han Suiping. I respect him a lot and would be glad to see him survive. So, we’ll distribute everything equally today, as usual.”

The months they had spent together had created some affection. Lin Sanjiu sighed softly.

“Not just today,” Ji Shanqing said. “We aren’t just sacrificing Han Suiping for an extra food ball or two.”

Horst raised an eyebrow.

“Our survival is at stake here, and every day, all our energy goes into just maintaining our livelihood,” Ji Shanqing said, reiterating what he had shared with Lin Sanjiu earlier. “You get that, right? Our actions are actually reinforcing the game’s rules, constantly intensifying our predicament.”

“It’s not like we have a choice. If we don’t cooperate, we’ll starve to death,” Jian Sheng replied.

Ji Shanqing continued as though he hadn’t heard him. “In the past day or so, the game has been running very smoothly, very stable… and during this time, we’ve also discovered that there’s no way out of this room. There’s a connection between these two facts. I believe when the game operates without hitches—”

He paused, scanning the faces around him as if worried they might not grasp his point, then clarified, “When this farming tax, this system where we feed others, works without issues, there’s no exit from this room. If we don’t change our approach, nothing will change, and we’ll remain trapped.”

“With Han Suiping out of the picture, we won’t be feeding a freeloader anymore,” Horst added impulsively. “So, does that mean we’ll see a change in the room today?”

Ji Shanqing looked at him, slowly blinking. For a second or two, Lin Sanjiu thought he seemed like a regular person unsure of what to say—but that must be her imagination.

“What’s your plan to change our approach?” she asked, eager to help move the plan along. He hadn’t yet shared the details with her.

“We could completely change the game, rewrite its rules from the ground up,” Ji Shanqing said, smiling at her. “We could go on strike.”

“Huh?” Nu Yue said, taken aback.

“We’ll keep working hard at first, stockpiling enough food b.a.l.l.s, and then we start the strike,” Ji Shanqing explained, looking around with a slight frown. “During the strike, we only take the bare minimum to survive, trying to prolong the strike as much as we can. The rule says we’ll die if we don’t work for three days, but there’s a loophole—we could work just ten minutes or even half an hour, then stop before producing any food b.a.l.l.s. We still meet the work requirement, avoid death, but don’t add to the food supply.”

“I don’t get it,” Louisa muttered. “What do we get out of this? What’s the point of a strike if it just makes us hungrier?”

That puzzled look crossed Ji Shanqing’s face again. Lin Sanjiu had the same doubts: what good would a strike do? Why avoid producing any food b.a.l.l.s?

“Wait,” Ji Shanqing said, scanning the faces before him in surprise. “You guys—”

“Ji Shanqing!”

Silvan’s voice cut through the air from the other end of the room. Everyone turned to see him stand up swiftly and stride toward them, his expression stern.

“Stop talking for a minute.” He shoved his hands in his pockets, stopping about five or six steps from the group. “You noticed it too, didn’t you?”

‘Noticed what?’

Lin Sanjiu thought.

Ji Shanqing nodded slightly.