Inside the lantern, everyone was drenched in sweat. Greed was still reading the script, Stark was already wiping his sweat, Mephisto was studying the panel's patterns, Scarecrow was tinkering with the mechanisms, while the Joker was looking up at the ceiling, whistling.
Only the agent seemed completely at ease. His only hope was for someone to come along quickly and kill everyone.
Without a doubt, the groups down below had almost figured out the whole script. When Bruce deduced the cultist's sacrifice, Greed still wore a "don't worry, I have a twist" look; but when Charles deduced the conflict between the company and the rich men, Greed wore a helpless expression.
Indeed, their guesses were mostly correct. Although it's a not-so-plot-focused escape room scenario, it still had a background story with a double twist. Essentially, it's a battle royale game sprinkled with some religious and big capitalist company plotlines, making people initially think the villain was the rich men, then the cultists, but ultimately the company reaping the benefits.
The specifics of the entanglements no longer mattered, because once a twist is guessed in advance, it's no longer a twist. Now, whatever happens in the script later on, there will be no surprises. As for how the cultist sacrifices and how the company profits from the chaos to eliminate competitors, these can already be guessed.
If this were just a tabletop game, the plot could be adjusted. But unfortunately, the mechanisms have already been set, and the story must proceed in this order, otherwise, they cannot access the next level. No choice left, even if their script is unveiled, they must continue to act it out.
In truth, performing in front of fools, anyone seems like a Great Artist; but performing in front of ace minds, even a Great Artist seems like the Joker. Especially when they knew that the players have guessed most of the plot, it's inevitable to feel a bit guilty.
"Alright, I'll announce the rules." Greed gave up on struggling. Although he still attempted to speak with a dramatic and excited tone, it carried an undertone of resignation.
Luckily, here were... one... two... three... four... five people skilled in the Mind Reading Technique, which was nearly half of the participants. The remaining people focused on the rules.
"The hunters with guns can hunt tigers. Tigers can eat wolves. Wolves can eat weasels. Weasels can eat chickens, and chickens can sting scorpions, while scorpions can kill humans. This is a perfect cycle. Now, you can decide, through the notes distributed by the mechanisms, whether to stay in the nest or go out hunting."
"If you decide to go hunting, you must also choose whether the mechanism should rotate clockwise or counterclockwise. The mechanism will rotate in the direction that receives the most votes from the hunters, with the number of spaces decided by us. If your hunting note is thrown into the room of your predator, and they are home, you will be eaten; but if it's thrown into the room of your prey, and you are home, you can eat them."
"The hunted must provide a certain weight of 'food' in the feeder embedded in the wall. It must be a part of your body, clothing, shoes, or jewelry will not do. Only by providing food can you start the next round of the game. You can also choose not to provide any, but the mechanism won't provide you with notes afterward, although others can still throw notes into your room. The game will last for six rounds, and the group who gets hunted the most will be executed and unable to leave the room."
"The enclosures you are in are completely soundproof. None of your discussions can be heard by other players. During the game, we won't communicate with you but can hear your voices. All we control are the number of spaces the mechanism rotates. If you have concerns, raise them now, if not, we'll start."
"You can always hear us talking, right?" Harley was the first to ask, "So, you know everything we say."
"Yes." A voice came from the broadcast.
Pamela raised her eyes to look at Harley, who sighed and made a face at her. Somehow Pamela understood what she meant — "I know the optimal solution, but I can't say it, otherwise they will definitely find a way to mess it up."
Pamela began contemplating what the optimal solution might be. From the perspective of their group's interests, the timing to leave is crucial. It's hard to predict the space where a note will be thrown once they leave. The entire cycle is arranged clockwise from large to small; their superior naturally wants to rotate up so that they can stay inside and wait for "takeout"; on the other hand, they naturally desire downward rotation as their inferior is smaller, which could ensure a successful hunt.
Actually, there is a more idealistic state, which is nobody leaving. If no one leaves for six rounds, and the mechanism doesn't move at all, everyone ends up neither hunting nor being hunted, resulting in zero points. According to the rules, they can't punish everyone for being hunted the most.
But this is clearly another psychological game. It's impossible that everyone in six teams chooses not to leave because not everyone wants to eliminate others. Most people would want to secure themselves first, so they will definitely act. Even though they know what the ideal situation should be, it's hard to remain still.
After all, having gone through previous levels, they know how vicious these room designers can be, and that the execution is bound to be extremely brutal. Under such survival pressure, even Batman would salute you as Batman if you lasted six rounds without moving.
If even one person moves, it's over; someone will be eliminated, and there's no way to achieve a draw. What if the victim happens to be yourself? To avoid that, you must also move, which ultimately keeps the game active.
"After jumping, will the next round reset and return home?" Charles asked.
"Whether the animal successfully preys or is preyed upon, they will return home. Those who don't trigger these actions will stay in place, and decide the next move from within the room. But, the count of preyed upon or successful predation still belongs to the original."
"Hiss..." Each room erupted into discussion. This evidently was another level of strategy, more complex than previously thought.
If you jump into an empty room, neither getting preyed upon nor preying, you must stay there and let the room's occupant decide if you go out.
If they are larger, they can keep you there, waiting for one from their own room to return and swallow you whole; if they are smaller, they can send you away, possibly even to a larger predator to be eaten.
Thus, calculating how to jump and which direction to jump requires extensive strategy, likely calculating several rounds ahead to ensure the number of times you are preyed upon doesn't become the most.
First, consider if the slot you plan to send to will have anyone. Second, if the predation fails, where are you most likely to be sent? Lastly, would there be anyone in the slot where you are sent...
And this also involves guessing the character of the other five groups. Some people act conservatively, some act aggressively, some hope for peaceful coexistence, and some wish for the world to be destroyed, which will all affect their actions.
"Professor." Bruce looked at Shiller with great anticipation, never before wishing so much that Shiller's mind reading technique was real. Because in this situation, if you could know the other's personality, you could figure out their behavior patterns, greatly increasing the odds of winning.
"Do you really want to win?" Shiller asked.
"It's not exactly that I want to win," Bruce said, "but if one group has to be eliminated, I don't want it to be ours. I've considered the possibility of peaceful coexistence, but the hope is too slim."
"I would like to eliminate the most deserving group, but the problem is the most deserving group might be us," Shiller sighed, "In the balance test, we didn't shed a single drop of blood, so we might just be the antisocial elements that the other groups aim to eliminate."
"So, you're saying our teammates are all justice enforcers?" Bruce keenly grasped the focus in Shiller's words.
Shiller shook his head: "I'm just thinking, is this round really an elimination contest? It seems a bit..."
"A bit what?"
"A bit off." Batman said, "The intellectual difficulty of this game is adequate, but the biggest issue is, why is there a part decided by them?"
"What do you mean?" Superman asked.
"I mean the people above," Batman explained, "Why do they get to decide the number of spaces we move?"
"Didn't you say it before? They want to be the grass, the ball, and the goalpost all at once."
"I said this isn't fair. The first few tests were fine, but this reduces the overall quality. The spaces are the key factor, arguably the only important one. If they're manipulating things from behind the scenes, we have no way to resist, which doesn't add up."
"So, what do you think..."
"What I'm saying is, if they want to manipulate things behind the scenes, they don't need to tell us that they're the ones deciding. They could just say it's random, and secretly change the random numbers. But they told us, what does that imply?"
"Uh, implying they won't manipulate things in secret?"
Batman shook his head, but didn't say the rest. Superman could only think for himself. Batman's words were a bit contradictory, sometimes suggesting manipulation, sometimes not, sometimes fair, sometimes not, making him confused.
Superman had to think of it another way. He thought about what Batman had told him before, that based on the storyline, this group of people is unlikely to be united, otherwise, it would be too unfair. Batman's conclusion was that there might be a mole among them.
Then combining what Batman said about them announcing their manipulation of the spaces, it sounds like someone is hinting to the players—it's us manipulating it, but someone among us will sabotage it, derailing the millionaire's plans.
But what is the purpose of this hint? Superman thought about it, but couldn't figure it out. He then supported Batman, hoping Batman would give him a hint. Once Batman understood his confusion, he wrote a word on Superman's hand—"No draw."
Superman was still confused, but Loki over there understood completely. This so-called space voting rule was likely established and announced by the mole. He wanted to tell the players, I can mess things up.
And the goal of doing so is to encourage players to act boldly. Because if players truly trust each other, staying still in their nests, then this game would indeed end in a draw, which the mole doesn't want.
As for the mole's intention not to want a draw, being a mole, he certainly isn't working with the rich against the players; he's likely aiming to team up with the players against the rich, or more accurately, borrow the players' hands to attack the rich. In a draw situation, neither the mechanisms nor people move, giving him no chance to target the rich. To ensure the players don't choose a draw, he gave such a hint.
"Why don't we just not move," Thor said, "My luck is so good, maybe just staying home, and nobody will eat me."
After thinking for a moment, Loki said, "No, we not only need to move, but move every round."
"What about the voting? Which direction should we vote in?"
"Clockwise," Loki said, "Vote all in favor of clockwise."
Other compartments were either discussing or silent; it seemed an exciting game was about to begin. But everyone knew in their hearts that this game was destined for a vastly different ending.