(3/4)
Lucky Cruise
Chapter 557: Following the rules blindly
“The ten horses participating today all have extraordinary potential!”
Seemingly unaffected by the solidified atmosphere in the arena, the dealer on the screen wore a smile. Her enthusiastic voice poured from the overhead speakers, echoing through the vast audience seating.
“First up is Horse No. 1! He has strong limbs and abundant stamina—a powerful contender for the championship of this race!”
Accompanying the dealer’s introduction, the camera zoomed in, and in, and in again, finally freezing on the man in Lane 1.
On the screen, the man’s terrified, despairing, and twisted face appeared. He maintained a posture with his forelimbs elongated, all fours on the ground, looking around in panic and extreme unease.
But indeed… in a certain sense, the introduction was correct. His body did look very robust.
“Although Horse No. 2 doesn’t have a physique as burly as No. 1, it is slender and light, possessing greater agility. It might just achieve unexpected results in the race…”
The introductions continued.
One after another.
The evaluations of “horses” were applied to living human beings, creating an indescribable sense of distortion. Watching it made one’s stomach churn, producing a physiological discomfort.
“Aren’t those people…”
Down in the stands, Wen Ya stared at the disturbing images. After a brief loss for words, she finally found her voice.
Wen Jianyan’s expression was grave as he nodded almost imperceptibly.
“Yes, they should all be debtors.”
Although they knew that owing high-interest loans to the casino would have severe consequences, when those consequences were displayed nakedly before everyone, it still evoked an excessive amount of fear.
The current state of the debtors had almost completely departed from the realm of humanity…
They had turned into deformed props for others’ amusement.
Soon, all ten “horses” had been introduced.
“Everyone can begin placing your bets!” The dealer’s enthusiastic voice echoed overhead. “Different horses have different odds. Of course, while the winning bettors will receive a high payout, the winning horse’s entire debt will also be written off!”
“More importantly, the winning side—whether it is the participant or the bettor—will also directly receive the ultimate grand prize!!” As if to raise everyone’s anticipation, the dealer dragged out the last syllable. “That is————”
A golden, glittering voucher slowly appeared on the screen, dancing above everyone’s heads. The light was dazzling, almost suffocating.
“A pass to Floor B5!!!” The dealer’s voice was excited and high-pitched, reverberating through the massive venue.
“?!”
Wen Jianyan’s breath hitched, and looks of astonishment appeared on the faces of the others as well.
The pass for this floor wasn’t exchanged with won money??
“Alright, it’s time to place your bets!” The dealer said warmly. “Good luck to everyone!!!”
As the dealer’s voice faded, several waiters in uniforms walked down from the back, carrying boxes strapped to them. The boxes were divided into ten small compartments, each labeled with the odds for different horses. They approached the seats, waiting for the audience to place their bets.
Soon, a waiter arrived at the row where Wen Jianyan was sitting.
“Sir, would you like to place a bet? One bet is one hundred thousand, and each ticket is limited to buying one horse.”
Chen Mo looked at Wen Jianyan inquiringly.
Wen Jianyan shook his head.
“Sir, even if you don’t bet, the admission ticket is non-refundable,” the waiter persuaded enthusiastically.
Wen Jianyan: “…Thank you, but still, no.”
The waiter didn’t push further and left with the betting box.
Aside from Wen Jianyan, who didn’t bet, the other anchors basically all placed bets to some extent—it wasn’t that they didn’t sympathize with their own kind, but in the Nightmare, sympathy was always cheap.
Furthermore, the cost of an admission ticket was too expensive. No one was willing to spend such a high price to enter only to return empty-handed.
Compared to worrying about the fate of others, trying to win money so they wouldn’t end up as one of the participants was far more important.
Soon, after everyone finished betting, this bizarre horse race began.
“Ready—”
“Three, two, one—”
“Start!”
With the dealer’s emotion-filled command, the ten “horses” began to run for their lives toward the finish line. They were clearly not yet adapted to moving on all fours; they stumbled as they started running, and some even smashed their heads against the ground, struggling for a long while before crawling back up.
On the giant screen, a smile appeared on the dealer’s face.
That smile was strange, as if she were anticipating what was about to happen. It sent a chill down one’s spine.
“Audience members, the race has officially begun. For the sake of victory, we are granting you the power to influence the race—please open the armrest to your right. You will gain a greater sense of participation.”
The audience was stunned. Following the dealer’s guidance, they opened their right armrests one by one, only to find a list and a blood-red fountain pen inside.
Wen Jianyan looked down and scrutinized the list, his breath hitching involuntarily.
[Create a Normal Obstacle for Horse No. __ :
Razor blades, steel nails, noose, trap…]
[Create a Supernatural Obstacle for Horse No. __ :
Headless Ghost, Water Ghost, Starvation Ghost…]
[Apply Status Effect directly to Horse No. __ :
Broken leg, broken hand, blindness, confusion…]
Different obstacles had different prices; the further down one read, the bloodier and more terrifying they became.
Besides these, there were also some healing and buff options, but compared to the obstacles, their prices were exorbitantly high, practically suffocating.
They were just a few lines of ordinary text, but under the lights of the racecourse, it looked as if fresh blood were oozing from them.
Instantly, the entire audience fell silent, as if shocked by the excessively cruel content.
On the track, the ten “horses” had gradually gotten used to their strange limbs. Their running was no longer as stumbling as before, and the distance between them finally began to widen.
Overhead, the dealer’s voice sounded again:
“One-tenth of the race is complete! Odds for Horses 1, 3, and 5 are doubled!”
Dead silence still reigned.
“One-fifth of the race is complete! Odds for Horses 2, 3, and 4 are doubled!”
The silence spread; only the heavy breathing and chaotic footsteps from the racecourse could be heard.
It was unclear how much time passed—perhaps a few minutes, perhaps a century—when the dealer’s voice rang out again:
“Three-tenths of the race is complete. Odds for Horses 2, 5, and 8 are doubled!”
And the moment her voice faded, “Horse” No. 6, running at the very front, suddenly let out a miserable scream. As the camera tracked and zoomed in, No. 6’s face, twisted in pain, appeared on the screen. His face was deathly pale, mouth wide open, rolling on the ground. Several sharp razor blades were deeply embedded in the soles of his feet. Gushing blood flowed out, quickly wetting the track and turning it a glaring red.
…Tempted by the increasingly high odds, someone finally couldn’t resist making a move and using their privilege.
The scent of blood began to spread through the arena.
It seemed to be a terrifying omen.
Barely a few seconds later, another tragic howl rang out. The “horse” numbered 9 had his foot entangled by something invisible. A pale, dripping hand reached out from the shadows on the ground, firmly grabbing the man’s foot and dragging him downward.
The man struggled and kicked with difficulty. Only after consuming two items did he barely manage to break free and climb up, stumbling.
Clearly, although these anchors had become racehorses, their items and talents had not been disabled.
Even so, the state of the race had been overturned.
“Two-fifths of the race is complete! Odds for Horses 5, 6, and 9 are doubled!”
It was as if a switch had been flipped.
One after another—razor blades, iron nails, traps, vengeful ghosts, shadows…
The items listed on the menu were manifested one by one, turning from text into reality.
As the race progressed and the competition turned white-hot, all bloody, cruel, and greedy desires were released, pouring onto the racecourse in the most terrifying forms, without any concealment.
Voices began to ring out from all directions.
“Run, dammit! Run forward!!”
“No. 3, get up! It’s just a broken leg!!! Keep going! I put two million on you!!!”
“Pull that No. 2 down!! Hurry up, quick!!!”
Uncontrollable madness filled the spectator seats. With each sum of money invested, the stakes climbed with unstoppable momentum. The sunk costs grew higher and higher, and the fanatical atmosphere rose with the tide.
The smell of blood, the sound of screams, vicious curses… everything mixed together. All participants lost their bottom line; one by one, they turned from onlookers into executioners, ruthlessly pouring malice upon their own kind on the field.
The entire racecourse had practically turned into hell.
Finally…
After an unknown amount of time, Horse No. 5—unrecognizable and tortured beyond human shape—crawled to the finish line.
His legs had been severed neatly. Internal organs flowed from a huge gash in his stomach, dragging a long, sticky trail of blood behind him, mixed with shreds of flesh.
“Our winner has emerged!”
The dealer’s impassioned voice came from overhead:
“All spectators who bet on No. 5 have won this victory!! —However, it’s a pity, it looks like he won’t be able to collect his reward.”
Five seconds after crawling past the finish line, No. 5 stopped breathing.
In the spectator seats, the dimmed lights brightened bit by bit, illuminating everyone’s twisted, sweat-drenched faces.
Behind them, the originally tightly closed doors swung open.
“This race has ended. Please exit in an orderly manner.” The dealer’s voice was still as enthusiastic and full of emotion. “The next race will be held in six hours. See you there!”
By the time they came back to their senses, the group had already left the racecourse.
They stood in a clean, very civilized area. The large doors behind them had closed tightly at some point. The living hell they had just witnessed seemed like a fleeting dream.
But, perhaps it was an illusion, the heavy taste of rust seemed to linger on the tip of the tongue…
Hovering for a long time, refusing to disperse.
After a long while, Blond finally spoke, unable to hide the tremor in his voice:
“…My god.”
It wasn’t their first time in an instance, and they had witnessed countless cruel, disgusting, and terrifying scenes. But in terms of sheer discomfort, what had just happened could absolutely rank in the top three.
Clearly, it wasn’t the casino doing the dirty work, yet it had forcibly created the most insane scene, exhausting almost all human imagination regarding torture and sadism.
In the “Integrity First” live room chat:
[I finally dare to breathe now, oh my god.]
[Damn, watching that just now felt so good. I really didn’t expect this new instance to have such a project. I take back what I said about it being boring earlier!]
[True, it was a bit of a slow burn a while ago, but finally some intense stuff. Nice!]
[Hahahaha really, if the instance just did it itself, the dramatic effect wouldn’t be this strong. It’s because everyone was a participant that the final effect was so awesome. Alright, alright, I’m satisfied too.]
[This is only the second day. Floor 4… hehe, I wonder what surprises will appear later.]
[This floor… really makes people a bit too uncomfortable.]
Chang Feiyu frowned.
Even as a mercenary who had seen his fair share of terrible scenes, what had just happened still delivered a certain shock to him.
Chang Feiyu spoke pragmatically, “However, if we want to leave this floor, I’m afraid there’s no way for us to keep our hands clean.”
Unlike the other floors, this time, the pass to the next floor couldn’t be exchanged for; it was the so-called betting “reward.”
That meant, on this floor, so-called skills were useless. The only thing one could do was join this massacre and use the spectator’s privileges to eliminate every competing horse except the one they bet on.
Although they didn’t want to admit it, they had to say Chang Feiyu was absolutely right.
Everyone present fell into silence.
“However, the basic framework of this instance is becoming clear.”
Chen Mo pinched the bridge of his nose, his voice sounding exhausted.
“To stay alive on the ship, you have to spend more money every day to buy a safe room. To earn money, you must participate in gamble after gamble. Once you lose everything and owe high-interest loans you can’t repay, you become a racehorse on Floor B4—and we just saw what happens to the horses.”
As for what the remaining two floors would be…
He couldn’t guess.
“It’s simply like a freefall that doesn’t stop once it starts.”
Ji Guan’s expression was grave as he gritted his teeth.
The worst part was, they could only watch themselves sink into the quagmire, sinking fast, yet completely helpless.
If different instances had different themes…
Then, the theme of this instance was [Despair].
“Captain? What do you think?” Wen Ya turned to look at Wen Jianyan, feeling a slight unease at his silence. “You haven’t said much since just now.”
“Yeah, you didn’t place a bet at all just now,” Chang Feiyu chimed in, as if realizing something. “Could it be, Captain, that before the race started, you had already guessed what would happen later?”
“Hmm?” Wen Jianyan turned his head to look.
He still appeared very calm. Aside from his face being slightly paler, he was almost indistinguishable from before.
“Me? Unfortunately, I don’t have any ideas for the time being.”
In the “Integrity First” live room chat:
[Didn’t expect that. There’s actually a day where the anchor has no ideas.]
[Ugh, if you ask me, solving this is simple. The anchor’s points can be counted as among the top on the whole ship, right? As long as he’s willing, he could totally become the mastermind of this bloody carnival.]
[Exactly. With his wealth, he could totally just smash money to make one horse win. Don’t understand why he doesn’t do it.]
[Don’t get it… already inside an instance and still holding onto that useless kindness. Truly weak.]
“Give me a little time, let me think about it,” Wen Jianyan said. “Let’s dismiss for now. Everyone is free to move about—but it’s best not to stray too far from each other. There are quite a few people itching to rob others right now.”
“What about you?”
Wen Ya paused.
“I have an auction to attend this afternoon. I need to prepare.”
Wen Jianyan waved at them, smiled, and walked straight away.
Wen Jianyan took the elevator back to Floor B9.
Floor B9 already had very few people, and now it was completely empty. Wen Jianyan returned to his cabin without obstruction.
He closed the door, went to the bathroom, and turned on the faucet.
Water rushed down with a splash.
Wen Jianyan propped his hands on the edge of the sink and dry-heaved violently, tearing at his lungs.
In the “Integrity First” live room chat:
[Ah this, throwing up just like that?]
[Uhh, what is this? Is his tolerance that low?]
[Right? There wasn’t even a chase scene or anything this time. The anchor has seen plenty of disgusting scenes before, why is the reaction so big this time?]
After a long time, the uneasy spasms in his stomach finally ceased.
Wen Jianyan lifted his eyes to look at himself in the mirror.
Through the misty grey fog, his face remained only a blurry outline. On his excessively pale skin, a sickly red flushed his cheekbones.
Wen Jianyan stared at himself in the mirror, as if gazing at a shadow from a distant past, his expression thin.
He didn’t like this instance.
Many parts of this instance easily reminded him of unpleasant, forgotten memories.
He caught some water, washed his face, and then straightened up.
His dripping wet hand wiped across the mirror, revealing a wet semi-circle.
Wen Jianyan stared at his own reflection from within it.
His gaze was clear and sharp.
Don’t forget, no matter what, this instance is fundamentally a time-limited instance.
But within this rule, there was a loophole.
Or rather… a trap?
The condition for ending the instance was completing the route, without any specific date.
So how long would this ship sail on the sea?
Unknown.
No one knew.
Indeed, just as Chen Mo said, the framework of the instance had taken shape—
The deeper the floor you went to, the more you earned, and the longer you survived.
Debtors died miserably; winners survived like dogs.
This also brought a new question…
Could it be that as long as you didn’t owe debt, you could wait until the day you disembarked?
Although Wen Jianyan hadn’t thought of a way to break the game yet, he knew one thing… listening to the guidance of the instance and allowing oneself to become a slave to the rules would only end in becoming a thrall. Not only would one never be free, but they would also become a living, bloody sacrifice.
For many years, Wen Jianyan had been very clear on one principle:
Following the rules leads to a dead end.
