Translator: AnubisTL
Buzz!
The five men standing on the high platform to the left had no chance to resist. They were yanked off the platform within seconds, plummeting to the ground in a bloody mess.
The off-road vehicle, unable to brake in time, hurtled straight toward the platform as the men were pulled down.
But then—
The vehicle didn't crash to the ground. Instead, it vanished mid-air, disappearing from its trajectory.
Meanwhile, the man who had been driving lightly tapped the web between his left thumb and forefinger as he descended. A rope shot skyward, hooking firmly onto the platform's edge, pulling him back to safety just as he was about to fall.
The entire sequence was executed flawlessly, smooth as flowing water, with no hesitation or obstruction—a breathtaking display of skill!
It was like watching an extreme athlete performing a perfectly choreographed routine, each movement imbued with artistry and precision.
At that moment, a notification chimed in the ears of all players:
[Congratulations to the Tyrannosaurus Trio squad for successfully clearing the first level and advancing to the second level waiting room.]
"Tch."
Scar Dog leaned back in his chair, legs crossed, watching the three men approaching them along the flat platform. He clicked his tongue in admiration. "These guys are really something. No wonder they're from the mechanical race—their sheer mechanical power is unmatched by human strength."
"So that's why they seemed so confident earlier. They were carrying an off-road vehicle with them all along."
"Impressive."
Just then, two more squads appeared.
This time, the squad that ascended the high platform on the right immediately pulled out tools and began clearing the blood and gore from the platform during the waiting period.
Some members scrubbed the platform.
Others rinsed it with water.
One member trailed behind, sprinkling white powder that looked like a drying agent or anti-slip compound.
It was clear they had planned this beforehand. The moment they stepped onto the platform, they seamlessly coordinated their efforts.
This seven-person squad moved with remarkable synergy, suggesting they were accustomed to operating together.
Meanwhile, the four-person squad on the left high platform looked uneasy, their faces showing a lack of confidence.
"Listen up, everyone!"
A spectacled man standing on the left high platform spoke urgently, his expression slightly strained. "Based on my observations, the previous squads all died because they were pulled off the high platform!"
"Did anyone carefully read the rules for the first round, 'High Platform Tug-of-War'?"
"The exact wording is—"
"To win, pull all members of the opposing squad off the high platform!"
"What does this mean? It means the rules of this tug-of-war aren't the conventional kind where pulling the red flag to our side wins!"
"As long as we don't get pulled off the high platform, we won't lose!"
"So the moment the match starts, none of us should touch the tug-of-war rope. Let the other team pull it over. We just need to stay patiently on the high platform, and that's all!"
"Does everyone understand what I'm saying?"
"But..."
The three teammates standing next to the Spectacled Man trembled, their eyes filled with fear. "Are you sure this will work? Shouldn't we just give it our all?"
"Trust me, okay?"
The Spectacled Man gazed resolutely at the seven men on the opposite high platform. "We can't possibly win a straight tug-of-war against them. Our only chance is to find another way!"
"Just like that group of psychos who publicly executed players, we need to exploit the rules!"
"Trust me. This time, we'll win!"
"Alright!"
The group exchanged glances, took a deep breath, and stood their ground, completely ignoring the tug-of-war rope on the ground. Their faces were set with determination, though a hint of unease lingered in their eyes as they stared at their opponents.
Soon—
The match began!
In an instant, the opposing seven-man squad yanked the tug-of-war rope onto their high platform. The four-person squad offered no resistance whatsoever.
The match ended swiftly.
Yet the Judgment remained delayed.
The crowd quickly grasped the four-person squad's strategy, their faces tightening with anticipation. If this plan succeeded, it meant they too could exploit the rules to clear the game!
Ten seconds ticked by.
Still no Judgment prompt appeared, as if time itself had been paused!
"Yes!!!"
The Spectacled Man, standing on the high platform to the left, let out an excited, low growl. "We did it! Just as I thought, the rules can be exploited! Is that all there is to it?"
"Hey, hey, stop! What are you doing?!"
"I haven't broken any rules!"
Just as the Spectacled Man finished speaking, the high platform beneath their feet suddenly began to tilt, the angle growing steeper by the second!
No matter how loudly the four men shouted, the platform showed no sign of stopping.
Soon, the four men couldn't hold on any longer. Screaming in terror, they plummeted toward the ground!
Thud!
With a sickening impact, three of the men crashed heavily onto the ground amidst their terrified screams, collapsing instantly into pools of blood. The Spectacled Man, his face pale with shock, managed to grab a railing at the center of the platform with one hand, suspending himself in mid-air and avoiding the fall.
"Damn it."
The Spectacled Man glanced at the three corpses of his companions on the ground and cursed under his breath. He then prepared to slowly climb down the railing, figuring that if being pulled off the high platform meant certain death, he simply wouldn't fall.
But just then—
A machine gun slowly extended from the center of the high platform, its barrel swiveling to target the Spectacled Man dangling in mid-air.
"Damn it!"
The Spectacled Man's face paled instantly. He tried to react, but it was too late.
Brrrrt!
The world fell silent.
"Huh."
Scar Dog stared at the Spectacled Man's mangled corpse with a strange expression. "People who risk their lives to test uncertain rules often deserve commendation for their courage."
At that moment—
Zhao Ritian suddenly pointed to the high platform on the right. "Look at that squad."
The others immediately followed his gaze.
On the right-hand high platform, the seven-member squad had secured an easy victory. Instead of leaving immediately, they pulled out a stack of oil drums and began pouring the liquid—which appeared to be oil—onto the platform as if it were free.
But that wasn't all!
Two of the men were still holding tubes of lubricant, which they began applying to the tug-of-war rope with precise, methodical strokes. They coated it evenly, meticulously, and thoroughly, leaving no gap uncovered.
Only after completing this task did the squad leave the high platform via the long plank and head toward the waiting room for the second level.
"What a bunch of bastards," Scar Dog muttered, clicking his tongue in admiration. "With enough people, you're bound to see some interesting tactics. I have to admit, this method is quite effective—it'll definitely eliminate some competitors in the later levels."
"Still, it's kind of... dog-like, you know?"
Soon, the squad leisurely arrived at the second-level waiting room, amidst a cacophony of angry shouts and curses from the audience in the first-level stands.
The air crackled with public fury!
["XXX your mother, you XXX dog XXX!"]
["You XXXX dog!"]
Countless faces, contorted with rage, glared at the departing squad, their voices rising in a chorus of obscenities that had to be censored.
However, all they could do was condemn them; there was no other recourse.
Soon, two new squads ascended the platforms.
The first squad to reach the right-hand platform, their faces ashen, immediately began clearing the kerosene spilled on the ground and the lubricant smeared on the tug-of-war rope without a word.
But they didn't have nearly enough time.
Without specialized tools for cleaning oil spills, they couldn't possibly remove the kerosene and lubricant quickly enough.
And the pre-match preparation time was far too short.
Before long, the competition began.
The squad on the right-hand platform had no choice but to grit their teeth, grip the lubricant-slick tug-of-war rope, and begin pulling against their opponents while standing amidst the spilled kerosene.
As for the outcome...
It goes without saying.
Enough lubricant can turn dry land into a slippery surface. Coating the tug-of-war rope with it was like a dimensional strike.
Even after stripping off their clothes and wrapping the rope to minimize the slipperiness, the effect was minimal.
They only managed to hold on for a few seconds.
The squad on the right-hand high platform was dragged screaming off the edge, their faces contorted with terror.
Just as they were about to be pulled off, one of the men in the squad suddenly roared, "Damn it! If we're going down, we're taking everyone with us!"
"No one's getting out of this alive!"
He pulled a time bomb set to detonate in three minutes from his chest pocket and slammed it against the edge of the platform.
Then, he drew a heavy machine gun, aimed at the squad in the second-level waiting room who had thrown the oil, and began firing wildly.
Since he was already doomed, who cared about the rule against players attacking each other?
However...
During his fall, his aim was impossible to control. He missed almost every shot and crashed straight into the ground, collapsing in a pool of blood.
"Damn it!"
A man watching the chaos from the second-level waiting room gritted his teeth and pulled a potion from his chest pocket, injecting it near the wound on his arm.
This man was a member of the squad that had smeared oil on the rope earlier.
He had been the only casualty of the reckless gunfire. Though none of the shots hit vital organs, the heavy machine gun bullets had torn a fist-sized hole in his arm.
His arm was ruined. He'd survive, but the limb would likely never fully recover.
"Karma's a bitch," Scar Dog muttered, a satisfied grin spreading across his face as he glanced at the wounded man. "This show's been quite a spectacle. Before that guy fell, he pulled something out of his coat and placed it on the high platform. Looked like a bomb."
"I need to get a closer look."
With that, Scar Dog activated an energy block, summoning a phantom gate before him.
Then, an eerie sight unfolded.
On the unmanned high platform to the right, a curious little head suddenly popped into existence, peered around for a few seconds, and then vanished as quickly as it had appeared.
"Got it," Scar Dog said, nodding with satisfaction as he withdrew his head. "It's a time bomb with just over two minutes left on the timer. I tried to pry it off, but it's secured by something strong—magnetic, maybe? It's damn hard to remove."
"Judging by the timer, it's set to detonate right when the next squad takes the stage and the competition begins."
"I have to say, I don't know who started this, but everyone's clearly gone bloodthirsty, each one more deranged than the last. It's hard to even see the tug-of-war anymore."
As the right high platform squad was being dragged down, the left high platform squad followed suit, pulling out a pile of oil drums from their pockets and dumping them onto the ground as they left.
However, they apparently didn't have any lubricant.
After a brief discussion, several men brazenly unbuckled their belts, aimed at the tug-of-war rope on the platform, and began to release their "rootless water."
While this act provided little actual lubrication, it undoubtedly served to thoroughly disgust the next squad.
Minimal damage, maximum humiliation.
"These people are all lunatics," Scar Dog sighed again, then added with a hint of relief, "Suddenly, I'm glad we went before them. Even if we wouldn't have lost, we'd definitely have been sickened."
"Seriously, the players in this event seem... off."
Just then—
Two new squads entered the arena!
Both squads had been busy during their waiting period.
The squad entering from the left immediately began cleaning up the oil slick on the ground.
The squad on the right had an even more urgent task. Not only did they need to clear the oil, but they also had to remove the lubricant from the tug-of-war rope and disarm a time bomb stuck to the ground with just over a minute left on its countdown!
Scar Dog's hunch had been right!
The time bomb was secured to the high platform with a powerful magnet, making it impossible to remove and throw away.
Since they couldn't throw it away, they had to disarm it!
But this time bomb was unlike anything they'd seen before. There were no red or green wires to cut—just a square iron box with a stopwatch-like countdown timer on top.
With only three seconds left until the official start of the match, they were completely stumped.
The time bomb's countdown showed five seconds remaining.
In five seconds, it would detonate, instantly igniting the kerosene covering the entire platform!
"We're done for," the mechanical race player sitting before the time bomb muttered in despair, collapsing onto the ground with a look of utter hopelessness.
"Why does a tug-of-war competition test our bomb disposal skills?"
"Why?"
"This isn't fair!"
(End of the Chapter)
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