Days as a Spiritual Mentor in American Comics Chapter 5677 - 4701: Deadly Escape (34)

Mere minutes prior, Bruce had executed his daring strategy: ascending via the elevator, he reinserted the disc above and then secured the cage. His plan proved effective, as the cage became firmly lodged.

Indeed, Shiller, who remained below, detected an unusual sound emanating from the upper section of the right wall. A "clang" was followed by a strange grinding noise. They deduced that the pulley system was situated within the wall of their current chamber, not far away.

It stood to reason that a mechanism requiring adjustments and maintenance would necessitate an adjacent room, and consequently, an access corridor for personnel. Regrettably, despite hearing the sounds, the wall tiles proved impossible to dislodge. Had they succeeded, they might have apprehended the repair personnel on the spot.

However, even without capturing anyone, they could ascertain if someone was present. With the mechanism malfunctioning and the stage immobilized, the organizers would be compelled to initiate a rescue.

While this incident could be characterized as self-inflicted trouble, a portion of the blame also fell upon the flawed design of the mechanism, lacking any failsafe. To simply dismiss it as a malfunction would undoubtedly result in at least two negative reviews following the conclusion of the event.

At this precise moment, all personnel in the control room had donned their masks and prepared for deployment. Greed had just begun to instruct the agent to proceed with repairs when he realized that including the agent, their team numbered exactly six. Should the agent depart for repairs, with the first group now inside, there would be one fewer actor stationed above, demonstrably undermining the narrative's coherence.

The agent, however, maintained a composed demeanor. "Summon Deathstroke," he advised. "At worst, we can compensate him with some Points."

After deliberation, Greed concurred. Given this group's propensity for causing disruption, a single repairman would clearly prove insufficient. Sooner or later, additional personnel would be required, making it prudent to summon assistance immediately.

Thus, Deathstroke from the Prime Universe was summoned. While the other six were engaged in their performance, he undertook the roles of repairman and janitor. Yet, he had evidently not fully relinquished his flamboyant combat persona, possessing no inclination for stealth and making no effort to quiet his footsteps within the service corridor. His progression was marked by distinct "thunk thunk thunk" sounds echoing down the passage, clearly audible to Shiller and Bruce from outside.

Furthermore, his actions while servicing the pulley set and the disc control mechanism were astonishingly noisy. Encountering difficulties midway, he resorted to banging and tossing objects, generating an auditory disturbance equivalent to that of three or four individuals, leaving Bruce somewhat bewildered.

"Is their human-resources surplus truly this abundant?" Bruce inquired, his brow furrowed. "Does it genuinely require such a multitude to repair a pulley set and a mechanism?"

"I suspect they've implemented precautionary measures," Shiller responded. "Bear in mind the information we gleaned from the plot prior: an employee was incapacitated and subsequently eliminated. I wager they've since refrained from dispatching single individuals for repairs, to prevent them from being ambushed by players."

"What a collection of cowards," Bruce scoffed. "It appears the notion of seizing hostages to facilitate an escape is hardly feasible. Engaging three or four armed guards presents far too great a hazard. We must now focus our efforts on the energy systems."

"Are you contemplating a power outage?" Shiller posed. While not directly involved in extensive experimentation, he frequently interacted with Victor in the laboratory. "The power supply for the mechanisms and the lighting systems must be distinct, as evidenced when we repaired the scales earlier; the drive power was severed, yet the illumination remained unaffected."

"We simply need to sever the drive power. However, our initial step must be to map out the building's structure and identify the location of the power source. This task is not overly complex, as the drive power must be cut prior to any structural repairs. Consequently, the energy room is invariably situated in the most central position to minimize transit time. All employee corridors will converge at the energy room. By pinpointing the direction of the employee passage behind each chamber, their intersection point will reveal the energy room's location."

Bruce directed his gaze toward the wall. "His footsteps are so loud, indicating the employee passage is in close proximity to the wall and ascends vertically. This suggests the energy room is situated directly beneath us. If we conceptualize this as a building, we are likely positioned above the central axis."

Shiller mentally sketched the plan, grasping Bruce's intentions. Essentially, the employee passages functioned as countless pathways, with each stage room marking the termination of one such path. Their current objective was to ascertain the starting points from the known destinations.

"We're currently facing two potential scenarios," Bruce explained. "The first is that the designers were meticulously thorough, constructing the employee passages according to physical laws and architectural principles, even in areas out of sight. They would connect adjacent rooms and utilize spiral staircases to manage verticality. Some inclined stairs might exist, but their angles wouldn't be excessively steep.

"The alternative is that, in the unseen portions, the Battleworld stage designers adopted a completely random approach to their layout—drawing innumerable lines directly from a central point, each terminating in a distinct room. From a design standpoint, this is the most straightforward method and also more beneficial for the staff navigating the area, as every route would be a single, direct passage, preventing them from getting lost..."

"It's likely the latter," Shiller interjected. "I'm familiar with Greed's methods; he prioritizes efficiency and favors allocating the budget to critical areas, ensuring funds are spent where they truly matter. Areas visible to players would invariably feature well-funded modeling and art. However, in places concealed from player view, resources would be conserved by implementing a makeshift solution."

"Isn't the dev team's budget essentially infinite?" Bruce inquired, a trace of confusion in his voice.

"Not at all," Shiller countered, shaking his head. "While they don't expend funds on material assets, their time and effort are finite. They aren't full-time developers; the majority merely pursue this as a hobby in their spare moments. Furthermore, they must consistently introduce new stages within specific deadlines, imposing a strict limit on the time dedicated to each one. Endless refinement isn't feasible; delaying new content leads to public outcry."

"That makes sense," Bruce agreed, nodding. "If the wiring is indeed random, it simplifies our task."

With that, he retrieved Andrew's notebook, noting the ample blank pages remaining at the back. Lacking a pen, he dipped the tip of an iron spike into some water on the floor and began sketching on the available pages.

He started with the room in the first stage, then two connected rooms, followed by a long corridor and the room at its conclusion. Next, he moved upwards to the second floor, continuing to ascend to the scale room, then further up to the steel-needle room, and so on.

Bruce was meticulously creating a three-dimensional structural diagram of all the mechanism rooms, estimating the locations of the maintenance rooms. Utilizing the known data acquired from their current room, he indicated the steel-needle room. "I surmise that the power room is situated at the center of this polygon.

"There's ample space here, and it's directly beneath our present location, aligning with the direction from which we just heard the footsteps. Most crucially, the scale system and the steel-needle system represent the most vital mechanisms. Locating the power room here would facilitate easier power disconnection and streamlined debugging processes."

"It's unfortunate we departed too soon," Shiller lamented. "If Anatoli had indeed damaged the scales, we could have exploited the repair period to corroborate your hypothesis."

"We'll have another opportunity," Bruce affirmed. "I anticipate further co-op stages will emerge. When that time comes, we'll simply find a way to communicate with them and inquire."

"I hadn't anticipated the co-op stage you desired would materialize so quickly," Shiller remarked, standing in the lantern room and gazing up at the six silhouettes above, a sigh escaping him.

"What troubles you, Professor?" Bruce inquired.

Then, he paused for a moment, his eyes suddenly gleaming. "Wait, Professor, you possess the Mind Reading Technique, don't you?! I mean, your Mind Reading Technique isn't classified as a Superpower, so it's not subject to restrictions! Doesn't that mean you could simply..."

"I believe some occasions call for adhering to the rules," Shiller stated, echoing Bruce's earlier words back to him verbatim, before proceeding towards the door without further comment.

"Ah, please don't be like that, Professor, it's not as if I'd reveal it to anyone," Bruce pleaded, hurrying after him. "Just tell me, or at least provide a hint. Perhaps I can deduce it from their subsequent actions and dialogue..."

Seated above, Stark nearly choked to death on the words he had just managed to suppress. Clasping his throat, he coughed forcefully but dared not make too much noise. How could he have forgotten that Shiller possessed the Mind Reading Technique!

He likely would have shattered them into pieces within three seconds of his arrival. And the most galling part? This wasn’t even classified as a Superpower, leaving no avenues for restriction. What recourse would they even have? All that could be offered was a solemn moment of silence, a tribute to the holder of the legendary loot-box weapon.

Mephisto, still clinging to a sliver of hope, uttered, "As long as we remain silent and still, he can’t possibly just magically..."

"Beware of Devils," Shiller cautioned Bruce. "Their forte lies in honeyed words and the art of misdirection."

Mephisto clutched his throat, succumbing to a coughing fit alongside Stark.

Bruce felt a pang of confusion. Wasn't this topic shift rather abrupt? What connection did Devils have to this? After a moment's thought, he ventured, "Professor, are you suggesting this might be a form of religious ritual?"

"Ah, I see. On the surface, it appears to be one of those entertainment-focused battle royale games where wealthy individuals place bets. However, in reality, it’s highly probable that it serves as a sacrificial ritual tied to religion..."

Cough, cough, cough... Greed, too, was overcome by coughing.

"The participation of affluent individuals in such games doesn't surprise me in the least. This setup is far too conventional. If that were the entirety of it, the narrative would be rather bland. Were I the architect of this plot, I would certainly inject more spice." Bruce theorized, "Imagine designing it such that one of the wealthy participants is secretly a Cultist, intent on sacrificing everyone—both the affluent spectators and the players themselves. That would serve as a compelling entry point and a justifiable twist. It might be somewhat rudimentary, but considering this isn't a stage prioritizing story depth, such a level of construction is already more than sufficient.

"In the initial phases, clearing rooms depletes one's energy and Physical Strength. Then, in this current stage, the wealthy patrons and their pawns emerge, deliberately inciting Hatred. Subsequent to that, implementing a 'stage malfunction' would lead players to mistakenly believe the wealthy are at fault, prompting them to hunt the patrons. But precisely at that critical juncture, the true Believer makes their appearance, forcing players and the wealthy alike into an uneasy alliance against this new foe. A significant number would likely perish or sustain injuries. As the story culminates, survivors would face a moral quandary: whether to permit the wealthy to depart or not—and that concludes the arc."

A chorus of coughs erupted from everyone confined within the lanterns.

"You see? This is the inevitable outcome of overly simplistic plot structuring," Scarecrow lamented, clearly having harbored grievances for some time. "I told you, a solitary twist isn't enough and it becomes far too predictable. But you were unwilling to listen. Are you satisfied now?"

"It’s of no consequence; only their particular group has deciphered it," Stark remarked, taking a measured sip of water and catching his breath. "The others likely haven't perceived anything amiss yet."

"Why do I have the unsettling feeling that the individuals observing us from above are the wealthy patrons themselves?" Harley mused, crossing her arms and leaning against the partition wall.

"Surely not, right?" Pamela questioned with evident skepticism. "Are these wealthy individuals truly deranged? Choosing to position themselves so close to a gathering of lunatics such as ourselves? Aren't they genuinely fearful of being slain?"

"How could they possibly ascertain our 'hardcore' nature?" Harley retorted. "The individuals they previously ensnared likely failed to progress beyond the initial stages. By the time they reached this point, they were probably on the verge of death. Naturally, they wouldn't harbor any fear."

"Furthermore..." Harley deliberately prolonged her speech, her voice dropping to a lower register. "I suspect within that group of six, there lies a traitor, someone poised to betray us during this very stage."

"How can you be so certain?" Pamela inquired, her surprise palpable.

"Instinct," Harley declared, tapping her temple. "You know me—when the pressure mounts, my gut feelings tend to be unerringly accurate."