Yao knew her primary advantage was gone. The moment the others finished their puzzles, the true apex predators would descend upon the lower prison levels like threshing machines, reaping points and treasures with ruthless efficiency. A glance at the constantly shifting leaderboard confirmed it. Names like Hong Yan, Xie Yiyuan, and Li Cang were skyrocketing, their scores jumping in brutal increments. They were harvesting—inmates, other examinees, it didn't matter.
Even if I could accept being beneath them, Hong Yan will eventually figure it was me. Someone like him won't tolerate being used. He'll come for me. And if he, or someone like him, has a truly debilitating mental disruption or instant-kill control technique… would I even get the chance to withdraw?
So far, she hadn't killed a single examinee. Was it a lack of capability? No. First, it was unnecessary (except for Qin Minfeng, that was personal). Second, it was strategic—avoiding the full, scorched-earth wrath of powerful families. But she held no such illusions about Hong Yan and his ilk. They would erase her without a second thought, consequences be damned.
"So…"
She had to act. Weaken their momentum, strengthen her own. Thankfully, she'd come prepared.
Her mind raced, overlaying the mental map from the solved puzzle. The locations of the remaining six hidden chambers glowed in her consciousness.
"Right now, their focus will be on the third and fourth levels. But some, like me, will want to avoid the crowds, to hunt the special chambers alone."
"Ten puzzles, ten solvers."
Her greatest advantage was still not raw power. It was perception and speed. Her dual ocular arts, she was certain, were at least on par with—if not superior to—the Blue-tier talents of the Xie scions. Their bloodline gifts might be more refined, but she had two, and the synergistic boost was immense. The only one she truly needed to worry about was Xie Yiyuan.
First, she activated her shapeshifting. Her form blurred, condensed, and reshaped. Not into a person, but into a creature—a sleek, iridescent dragonfly, its compound eyes granting a panoramic, hyper-detailed view of the world. She mimicked its biological structure perfectly, gaining its inherent aerodynamic efficiency. Then, she fused fully with Little Locust, sharing its prodigious agility. Finally, she activated the Winged trait of her new ring.
Dragonfly biology + Symbiotic Agility Share + Winged Ring (High-altitude speed +30%).
She vanished from sight, a cloak of light-bending and psychic dampening wrapping around her form. The flight was utterly silent, devoid of the usual mana ripples. Only someone with ocular arts surpassing hers could possibly detect her now.
Whoosh.
She became a phantom, a whisper of displaced air shooting down to the third level. She avoided the most direct routes—the ones others would logically take. She chose the third-most efficient path to the fourth-level descent. It took her past Donglong Zhao's team, still cautiously clearing a cell. She didn't pause, but noted their progress. She even flitted directly past Li Yu. The Orange-blood scion, sharp as he was, showed no reaction.
Fourth Level.
She descended. The moment her feet (or rather, her delicate insectoid legs) touched the cold stone, she froze.
Another figure had materialized at the entrance at the exact same moment.
A young woman. Tall, willowy, with a cascade of dark hair that fell like a shadow down her back. She moved with an eerie, boneless grace. Her skin was pale to the point of translucence, giving her a sickly, melancholic beauty that was both fragile and deeply unsettling. She turned her head, just a fraction, as if sensing a disturbance in the air.
Yao held perfectly still, a living statue made of chitin and light.
The woman's gaze swept the empty corridor. Seeing nothing, she raised a slender, alabaster hand. From her palm, a billowing cloud of pure negation erupted—a void-black mist that greedily devoured light, sound, and even the ambient mana in the air. It spread, corrosive and searching, inch by inch, seeking to identify and annihilate any foreign presence.
Seven seconds. The mist filled the junction, leaving a vacuum of dead, sterile space.
"No one?" Her voice was a soft, breathy sigh. She tilted her head, a gesture of mild surprise, then shrugged. Dark wings, shot through with veins of amethyst energy, unfurled from her back with a soft shush. With a single powerful beat, she was gone, disappearing down a side passage. Her speed was terrifying, not far off Yao's own maximum.
Safely embedded within the wall itself—a trick of light manipulation and density shifting—Yao let out a mental breath she hadn't realized she was holding. She thought she'd escaped detection. Then, from the direction the woman had gone, a cataclysmic explosion of force rocked the very foundations of the level.
She's fighting!That was why she left. Not because she was satisfied, but because she'd sensed a differentprey arriving first.
Who is she?Not Li Cang, not Xie Yiyuan. Not in the top ten dossiers Zhou Linglang provided. Not an Orange-Blood either. Like Hong Yan, she was an outlier, a monster born outside the privileged cradle. But where Hong Yan had some renown, this girl was a complete unknown. A dark horse from some distant, forgotten city.
And crucially… she hadn't seen through Yao's camouflage. Her perception was a hair's breadth short.
The close call sent a cold sweat trickling down Yao's spine. Her plan needed adjustment. Going to the fifth level now was too risky. Instead, she used her supreme speed to bypass the epicenter of the battle ahead. She didn't head for the fourth-level special chamber to fight for its prize. No.
As she flew, a new idea crystallized. She manifested her First Sequence appendages—the formless, density-shifting tentacles. They wrapped around her dragonfly form, further blending her into the background, mimicking the exact density and mana signature of the surrounding stone and air. Another layer of defense.
If this can be pierced… it would take Orange-tier ocular gifts. I can't be that unlucky!
She arrived at the fourth-level special chamber. Instead of attacking the door, she retrieved a small, innocuous-looking object from her storage—a dull grey brick about the size of her palm. With precise movements, she wedged it into a crack in the wall near the chamber's entrance, ensuring it was flush and nearly invisible.
Then she was gone.
She repeated the process on the fifth level, finding another strategic crevice near its special chamber to plant an identical "brick."
All the while, the sounds of combat from above grew more intense. Not just one duel, but a chaotic melee. At least five of the puzzle-solvers are fighting.The shockwaves made the very stone of the fifth level tremble.
Yao paid it no mind. She had a schedule. She shot down to the sixth level.
The atmosphere here was different. Thicker, colder. And laced with the coppery, cloying scent of fresh blood.
Someone's already here?
The thought was a bucket of ice water. Her speed was already pushed to the limit. She was the first to solve the puzzle. Hong Yan was second. If someone was here aheadof her, having made up the time difference in solving… how fast were they?
She forced down the instinct to flee. Her plan was in motion. Aborting now meant failure.
She took a steadying breath, activating her dual vision to scan the mana currents. No traces of recent, violent spellcasting. No one was fighting the inmates here. The blood scent was just… ambient. A leftover from the prison's grim history? Or a warning?
Flying on, she observed the five regular cells on this level. Each inmate glowed with a deep, potent blue aura. Level 40. Each one, by Elite LV standards, a boss-level threat of around LV40.
Every single one.
And the special chamber inmate? She didn't want to think about it.
Sticking to the plan, she didn't approach the special door directly. Instead, she merged her light filaments with her Lumistrand wires, creating near-invisible tethers. With exquisite control, she used them to maneuver the puzzle fragment itself, hanging it right in front of the special chamber's door. Not stopping there, she deployed more filaments, attaching them to the doors of the other five regular cells.
Then, she retreated. Fast. She hid not in the sixth level, but at the very entrance to the seventh.
But before concealing herself, she performed one final act. She subtly manipulated the ambient light particles in the air, weaving a faint but detectable trail of disturbed photons. A trail that pointed, as clearly as a painted sign, directly towards the seventh-level descent.
For another scenario, she thought. If someone like Xie Yiyuan does have Orange-tier eyes and can see through my layers… let him see this. Let him follow the breadcrumbs.
She waited, a specter in the shadows. Her enhanced hearing picked up the faintest scuff of a boot on stone from the sixth-level entrance.
He's here. Fast. Which one is it?
She waited a few more heartbeats, until she sensed the newcomer approaching the cluster of cells—close to the five regular ones, but not yet at the special chamber.
Her finger twitched.
Click.
All five regular cell doors swung open simultaneously.
In the sixth-level corridor, a young man with jet-black hair, slightly disheveled, and features so sharp they looked carved from ice, froze. His cool, assessing eyes swept the scene.
Five sets of eyes, burning with decades of pent-up malice, met his from within the now-open cells. A white-haired old man, elegant and refined even in his prison rags, gave a thin, bloodless smile. "My, my. Such ambition, young man. Opening all our doors at once? Do you intend to entertain us all?"
The youth—Xie Yiyuan—didn't flinch. A flicker of understanding crossed his icy gaze. "It seems I've been… played."
He made a dismissive gesture. "Step aside. I have business elsewhere. I'm not here for your lives yet."
His tone was arctic, his disdain for their points and pitiful cell treasures evident. But his pupils shifted, a kaleidoscope of colors swirling within as he activated his ocular art. He scanned, seeking the trapper. And he found it—the faint, lingering trail of manipulated light, leading enticingly towards the seventh level.
Too obvious.A sneer touched his lips. Lure me to the seventh, then spring the same trap with the floor boss? Amateur.
Despite his suspicion, he shot towards the seventh-level entrance, his movements a blur. A quick, penetrating scan revealed… nothing. No one hiding. The special chamber door was still sealed.
He fled. Back to the fifth level? Or hiding nearby, waiting for me to be distracted?
The inmates, however, were done waiting. "An exam? The Guild uses us as stepping stones? Then we'll use your flesh and blood as payment!" the old man hissed. "Kill him!"
As Yao had predicted, their power was monstrous. Each was a match for Que Baige. They surrounded Xie Yiyuan, attacks flying.
Xie Yiyuan's expression turned frosty. His eyes flashed. A wave of invisible psychic force—a soul tremor—hammered into all five simultaneously, stunning them. In that split-second opening, he raised a hand. The temperature plummeted. Hoarfrost raced across the stone, the very air crystallizing. A localized blizzard erupted, countless razor-sharp ice shards forming and hurtling towards the stunned inmates.
He's really fighting them all at once!
In the colosseum, spectators gasped. "Xie Yiyuan is terrifying!"
"No wonder he's perpetually in the top three with Hong Yan… I wonder how Li Cang compares?"
"Look! He's going to pick them off one by one…"
As the crowd buzzed, Xie Yiyuan's face suddenly contorted in alarm. He whirled, arms coming up in a cross-block.
BOOM!
A massive, fur-covered arm the size of a tree trunk slammed into him. The impact sent him flying across the corridor to crater into the far wall. He slid down, a shimmering suit of orange-hued armor flickering around him. Before him stood the true horror of the sixth level—a hulking, misshapen ape-like monstrosity, ten feet tall, with eyes like burning coals and fists that could pulverize stone.
All the cell doors are open?!The thought was a thunderclap of fury in his mind. Five plus the boss?! Who did this? What kind of sewage-dwelling, ancestor-defiling bastard schemes like this?!
Even his aristocratic composure frayed at the edges.
The ape-boss roared, its maw opening. A beam of condensed crimson annihilation lanced out.
BOOM!
Xie Yiyuan barely dodged, the beam carving a three-meter-deep gouge in the wall where he'd stood. The other five inmates, recovering, layered him with curses and debuffs—slowing, weakening, poisoning.
Bad!
In the Xie family section, people shot to their feet in horror.
On screen, Xie Yiyuan burned another precious resource. A second genetic talent activated, cleansing the debilitating effects. A small, sapphire-blue creature—a spatial-weasel—popped into existence on his shoulder. It squeaked, and the space around the massive ape-boss warped, gravity increasing tenfold for a crucial moment. Using the boss's own immense weight and the distorted space as a springboard, Xie Yiyuan shot backwards, a streak of frost and light, fleeing up towards the fifth level.
His logic was sound: the monsters should be bound to their own floor. They wouldn't chase.
He was wrong.
The moment he burst into the fifth level, a new wrongness assaulted his senses. The ambient mana… it was being sucked away. Not just one element. All of it. And at a rate far too fast for any normal battle.
A device!
He looked around frantically. The ape-boss and its five lieutenants were already pouring out of the stairwell behind him. And on the wall, he saw it—a section of seemingly ordinary brickwork was glowing with a faint, insidious light. A mana-siphon, cleverly disguised.
The siphon was draining the energy that powered the floor's restraining runes. The barriers were weakening.
Xie Yiyuan's face darkened. He was locked onto. He couldn't fight them all. He had to run. And he had to lead them… to someone else.
On the fourth level, Hong Yan had just blasted open the special chamber door and claimed its prize. He felt the disturbance immediately—the unnatural mana drain, the tremors from above. With a punch, he shattered the wall near him, revealing the hidden "brick." He pulled it out, staring at the crude, non-magical-looking object.
A Meditation Puppet. But a horribly warped one. Its primary function—focusing mental energy—was crippled. Instead, it had been perverted into a supremely efficient elemental vacuum.
Who the hell makes a Meditation Puppet look like a brick?! And who is twisted enough to modify it into a mana siphon?!His worldview shuddered for a moment.
"The same snake," he muttered, his smoldering eyes narrowing. "There's another one."
He grabbed his loot and moved to retreat, but it was too late. The fifth level had erupted. The ape-boss, cunning and brutal, had ordered its minions to throw open every cell on the fifth floor as they passed.
Twenty Level 35 Blue-tier boss inmates were now free.
Chaos, pure and utter chaos, descended on the fourth and fifth levels. Examinees who moments before had been hunting each other now found themselves scrambling for their lives, forming desperate, temporary alliances against the tide of furious, overpowered convicts. It was a slaughterhouse.
At the entrance to the seventh level, where Yao had hidden, a creeping sense of primal dread crawled up her spine. She'd come here as her contingency—if the ape-boss had some way to track the door-opener, she'd be safe one level down, where the inmates presumably wouldn't dare venture.
The seventh level was the king's prison. It housed the ultimate super-boss.
And now… she felt eyes on her.
She turned slowly.
Five meters away was… a bathroom. A single, stark toilet in a recessed alcove. Sitting cross-legged on the closed lid was a young man in a faded blue-and-white prisoner's uniform. He looked boyish, almost cherubic, with soft features and tousled hair. He was reading a book. Heavy, crackling chains of solidified lightning bound his neck, wrists, ankles, and waist, each link etched with dense, glowing sigils. A final, massive energy gate sealed the alcove shut.
The strongest prisoner… was in the bathroom.
He looked up from his book. His eyes met hers. They held no obvious malice. Just a deep, profound… loneliness. A sadness that tugged at the heart, that whispered of unfair suffering, that made one want to reach out, to comfort, to… free.
Yao felt a wave of overwhelming pity and affection wash over her. Her feet, of their own accord, took a step forward.
Then, the scent hit her again. That faint, metallic tang of blood. The same scent from the sixth level. It cut through the fog of empathy like a knife.
Her mind cleared with a painful jolt. No. This is wrong.
She didn't think. She moved, throwing herself backwards out of the alcove.
The instant she did, the floor where she'd been standing erupted. Dozens of rotting, blood-caked hands shot up, grasping at empty air.
The boy on the toilet didn't seem angry. He slowly folded his newspaper, a sigh escaping his lips. "Such a pity," he murmured to the empty cell. "Such a pretty girl finally visits. And such a strong will… what a shame."
Outside, pressed against the cold stone of the stairwell, Yao was drenched in a cold sweat, her heart hammering against her ribs.
Too close. That was too close.
She'd made a catastrophic miscalculation. The seventh level wasn't a hiding spot. It was the final challenge, designed for the combined might of the entire first tier. And she'd wandered in alone.
She bit her lip, the taste of copper fear sharp on her tongue. Gritting her teeth, she flew back up to the sixth level. The special chamber door hung open, untouched. The five regular cells were empty, their occupants rampaging above.
No one here. No inmates.
This was the ultimate goal of her reckless, treacherous plan. As for the consequences…
I merely… released the point-giving monsters. Encouraged unity among the examinees. Fostered a spirit of human cooperation against a common foe. Is that so wrong?
No. It wasn't wrong.
It was just profoundly, hilariously unethical.
A flicker of genuine guilt pricked at her conscience. But it was extinguished the moment her fingers closed around the jade box resting inside the sixth-level special chamber.
The cool, smooth surface seemed to pulse with promise.
Because in the end, she was just a fallible, grasping mortal. Mortals chased advantage. They weighed profit against loss. In that brutal calculus, bones were piled high, and corpses were stepped upon. But she… she was the one still standing.