Chapter 1 The Choice

The man wearing the golden crying-face mask was clearly no pushover either.

He had already gleaned clues from the organizer's words, and therefore used the prerequisite "we at this moment" in his question.

In fact, many people had not yet realized... there was also a prerequisite in the organizer's words, namely "those who have become my possessions"; that is to say, before you become his "thing," he will still treat you as a human being; and for "humans," he will naturally keep his promises.

However, once you choose to accept the organizer's "protection," or rather... "enslavement," then you must be prepared for the corresponding mental and emotional consequences.

The so-called "losing all rights as a person" is not just empty talk.

Asking you to kill someone is already a good deal...

He can not only "make you" do anything, but if you don't, he can also "do" anything to you.

No one will come to save you, just as no one would go to save a "thing" that belongs to someone else.

"Is it interesting to ask about killing people? You lack imagination." Two seconds later, Feng Bujue spoke again, raising his voice to the organizer on the second floor, "I'll just ask... if you're willing, can you turn us into human centipedes? Or make us film heavy-taste movies with other species, or kill us and sell our organs?"

Before he could finish speaking, the crowd in the venue was in an uproar.

Although Feng Bujue's tone was very relaxed, he still managed to cause a small panic.

"Heh..." The organizer laughed again. In just a few minutes of brief contact, he had already strongly felt that... the man wearing the crow mask was a person similar to himself—a madman.

"Yes," the organizer replied to Jue-ge's question a few seconds later, using a calm tone and clear articulation.

This time, the crowd below completely exploded, and whispers turned into a hubbub.

"It is my freedom to use these 'things' however I want," the organizer then said. "However... I can assure you that the examples mentioned by this gentleman... have never happened so far." He paused. "In fact, I have not asked anyone who failed in this game to kill anyone."

The organizer spread his hands and said in a frank tone, "If I want someone to die, I will hire a professional to handle it. There is no reason for me to find someone with no experience or relevant skills to do such a thing." As he spoke, he slowly turned his face, making a gesture of looking around the audience, and then said, "Everyone... has their own strengths; without a doubt, everyone here has considerable outstanding talents in a certain field, and what I want is nothing more than your 'talents.'"

He was lying.

Not everyone could see through it, but some people did...

Feng Bujue understood very well that the organizer's words were half true and half false, and his core intention... was simply to appease and fool these people, lest no one choose to accept his "protection" later.

"Of course, I won't be too polite either." The organizer was a person who deeply understood the changes in people's hearts and had extremely strong language skills. After some appeasing words, he added a relatively cold passage, "If you think that after accepting my 'protection,' you can still get a salary and vacation... then you are thinking too much; what awaits you... will only be dark and dreary work and basic survival guarantees, until you 'repay what you owe me,' there will be no way to escape."

"Owe you..." At this time, the short, fat man wearing a Peking opera mask asked again, "... refers to the money you spent when you accepted your protection?"

"Heh... this gentleman understands very quickly." The organizer replied with a smile, "In this world, more than 90% of things can be solved with money. So... debts or crimes, no matter what you have done outside, as long as you are willing to accept my 'protection,' I can use money to solve them for you. From that moment on, all your debt relationships will be transferred to me alone." At this point, he began further inducement, "And I, this creditor... am also reasonable; after a few years, if you successfully repay what you owe me, you can regain your freedom... heh... of course, the exact number of years depends on the amount of your debt and the efficiency of your 'labor value' output."

"Hmph... is it equivalent to being in a labor camp here?" In the crowd, a man wearing a white opera mask snorted.

"Hmph... labor camp?" The organizer also responded with a disdainful snort. "Can labor camps free you from your current predicament?" he asked rhetorically. "I said—'What I want is your talent.' I will let you shine in 'positions that suit you,' instead of letting you do some simple labor that anyone can do. If I want to find a group of people suitable for working in sweatshops, I will open another game and draw up another guest list." He smiled. "Heh... there are people everywhere who owe hundreds of thousands in gambling debts and know that they will never be able to repay them with their own abilities..."

The organizer's remarks were like sugar and a whip. He gave the group below a little sense of superiority, but also a sense of reality. Most importantly... he also gave them "hope."

This group of people was already desperate and staking everything.

Under such inducement, they would easily tend to "take a chance."

Yes, accepting the organizer's "protection" was terrible; but... what about returning to shore?

Returning to shore meant facing huge debts or imprisonment, or even both.

Living in the shadow of debt day after day, or spending long years behind bars, becoming a marginal person who is difficult to integrate into society after being released...

Burdening family, being abandoned, being discriminated against, life... no more chances.

As a group of people who once occupied certain social resources, they knew more about the operation of this world than those who had never stood at a high place. They had seen more darkness and understood more about so-called human nature...

They knew that falling was not terrible... what was terrible was losing the chance to climb up again. In this world, "opportunities" were always in the hands of a few people, and most people just muddled along. Even if they saw a glimmer of light from above, they would be easily snatched away by those who already occupied more resources.

Therefore, they also knew very well that leaving this ship... was equivalent to giving up the last "opportunity."

Compared with "clearly visible despair," perhaps, the "vague abyss" provided by the organizer was more attractive to them.

…………

"I can do it."

"I've been through so many storms, this is nothing."

"It's just working day and night, like a high-interest loan secured by labor..."

"Anyway, it's better than going out to do low-level jobs and being chased for debts every day."

"Bite the bullet, with my ability, ten years... no, five years to pay off, then I can go back outside and make a comeback."

"Besides..."

"Besides..."

"Besides..."

"I... may not lose!"

"Yes, as long as I win..."

"If I win, I can not only pay off my debts, but also have a surplus."

"There are eight places in total."

"How could someone as good as me not even make it into the top eight?"

…………

During the organizer's speech, the guests were also struggling in their hearts, weighing the pros and cons of the two options...

And under the double illusion of "I can win" and "accepting protection can also turn things around," most people tended towards the second option.

"Okay... I think you all understand the two ways out after failure." The organizer did not let them think for too long. He opened his mouth and said, "I don't want to waste any more time answering all kinds of details about 'things' one by one..."

As he said this, he deliberately glanced at Feng Bujue. Even wearing a mask, Jue-ge noticed the gaze and responded with a sneer.

"In short, the choice is in your hands. I won't force you to accept my 'protection.' Those who want to get off the ship after failing, please feel free." The organizer shrugged. "However... before I announce the rules of the game, you must first make a choice."

Before he finished speaking, the several entrances on the first floor were opened one after another, and some men in suits and sunglasses came out pushing trolleys with expressionless faces.

The things on those trolleys were the same—pens, contracts, and cash.

"Everyone, I will only say the following words once, so please listen carefully." As the organizer said this, the suit men had skillfully pushed the trolleys to several designated locations and stood still. "Today, we will have more than one game, and each one requires the use of 'chips,' which I will 'lend' to you."

At this time, the attention of the crowd had basically been attracted by the small "mountains of banknotes" around them. The trolleys were full of US dollars. A rough estimate showed that each trolley was stacked with more than five million US dollars in paper money (in the universe where Feng Bujue was, the evil American Empire had canceled 100 and 50 dollar bills many years ago in order to reduce the crime rate to a certain extent and eliminate the obstacles to the implementation of negative interest rate policies. Therefore, the money on these trolleys now was all 20 dollar bills).

"Each guest can borrow money from the staff, and the loan amount is limited to two to ten thousand dollars." The organizer's explanation continued. "Please do not borrow in units below 'ten thousand,' as that will take too much time. After completing the loan, the amount you receive will be used in the subsequent games... Of course, this money must also be returned." He paused consciously for two seconds as he said this. "The winners of the game, needless to say, this little money is nothing to you, and you can repay it later; and among the losers... those who choose to accept my 'protection' don't need to care about these, the part you can't repay will be included in the 'money you owe me'; however, those who choose to leave the ship after failing... you better be mentally prepared, I don't buy the idea of 'too many debts, no worries.' Once you get off my ship, you are no longer my 'guests'; at that time, I will only give you one month to pay back the money. After one month, I will use a way that is more effective than any high-interest loan you know to make you pay off your debts."

Many people in this venue knew about the "way" he was talking about...

Putting aside the factors of gender and appearance, a healthy adult can at least be squeezed out for a value of about 500,000 (RMB).

According to the (universe, current era) exchange rate, that was almost exactly one hundred thousand US dollars.

Of course... the result of this kind of "squeezing" usually meant death.

"I have prepared two types of loan contracts, one for 'those who get off the ship after failing the game' and the other for 'those who accept protection after failing the game.' Please consider which one to sign and... how much to fill in." As the organizer said this, he waved his hand, indicating that the suit men holding the glass cabinets beside him could leave. "You have fifteen minutes to make a decision, and then use the contract to exchange for cash." After saying this, his tone changed slightly, and he added, "Oh, right. Please do not sign any strange names on the contract or try to muddle through, because you need to hand in the 'magnetic card' from your room when borrowing money. Your identity will not be confused... Randomly signing or other behaviors are just embarrassing yourselves."

With that, the organizer paused for another second and stepped back half a step, saying very politely, "Well... everyone, please excuse me for leaving for a while."

…………

After the organizer left the main hall, a depressing silence descended.

Those small groups who had been chatting so happily, as if they had met late, were now silent.

Everyone was struggling with their thoughts, calculating their own accounts.

No one went to discuss with others... because here, no one would truly trust anyone else.

Whirr——

At this quiet moment, suddenly, the sound of rustling paper came from somewhere.

In that instant, people's eyes were naturally drawn to the sound.

And as they turned their heads to look, Feng Bujue had already picked up a pen, filled in the amount of 100000 on the contract, and cleanly signed the name "Jiang Daode".

"Take the money." After signing, Jue-ge handed the contract and his magnetic card to a few suit men in front of him, saying these two words succinctly.

In order to prevent anyone from muddling through, three suit men stood next to each trolley.

"Uh..." After a collective daze for three or four seconds, one of the suit men reacted, took Feng Bujue's contract and magnetic card.

He glanced at the amount and signature on the contract, and then read, "Ten... ten thousand..."

Then, he turned to look at his colleague beside him and nodded.

The other suit man also responded with a nod, and then picked up a sealable plastic bag and began to fill it with money.