Days as a Spiritual Mentor in American Comics Chapter 5689 - 4713: Death-Defying Escape (46)

"Is this truly the way?" Bruce inquired, "By invalidating his self-worth, you enable him to achieve self-awareness through an alternate route?"

"You ponder when idle and neglect to think when necessary." Shiller commented, shaking his head. "Why do you suppose these pronouncements are directed at that individual?"

"Are they not?" Bruce countered, turning to face him.

Shiller continued his headshake. "The supposed negations of his self-worth are, in fact, a demonstration that my critique isn't arbitrary but grounded in reason and fairness. The true objective is to convey to the design team: I possess the capability to author a coherent and impactful negative review. If you wish to avoid such commentary tomorrow, it would be prudent to permit our smooth passage."

Bruce was rendered speechless. After a moment, he asked, "So, it constitutes a form of coercion?"

"Precisely. The individuals formulating the mechanics are secondary; the crucial figure is the one who dictates the level's trajectory. This person excels at leaving others with no viable alternatives. The same principle applies to this Mr. Tiger."

"Tony Stark!" The voice from the team channel boomed with an avaricious urgency. "Observe the consequences of your actions! We are destined for lengthy negative assessments!"

"How can this be attributed to me?! Did you not all concur?" Stark exclaimed in exasperation.

"However, we are all incapacitated, with only you remaining within the level. To avert these detrimental reviews, you must proceed to retrieve it."

"What? Absolutely not, the pain will be excruciating!"

"Then hasten your demise!" Greed declared icily. "Each of us has met our end once already; why should you be exempt?"

"But, but... to perish in such a manner would be excessively tragic." Stark's apprehension was evident.

"Was our demise not equally agonizing?" Scarecrow interjected. "Furthermore, given the deficiency in your mechanical design, a tragic end is entirely appropriate."

"You would be wise to act with haste," Greed admonished. "Should I discover that unfavorable review tomorrow, I shall release the recording of our current exchange. Consequently..."

"No, no, no, no, no!!" Stark cried out in immediate protest. It must be acknowledged that Anatoli's assertion held merit. Stark's conceptualization of mechanics was overly abstract, detached from the practical realities of the level. If this conversation were made public, it would solidify that perception, causing Stark immense embarrassment across the multiverse.

Stark, a being who placed immense value on his reputation, was willing to relinquish anything for its preservation. He bit his lip, swallowed with difficulty, his Adam's apple bobbing, and finally, with trembling hands, he reached out.

"Ahhhhhh!!!!"

Blood cascaded throughout the atrium, subsequently flowing downwards, saturating nearly every blade in crimson. Crucially, the objective was dislodged; it bounced among the array of blades, ricocheted off the wall, and ultimately clattered to the floor.

Bruce stooped to retrieve the blood-drenched key. Wiping the crimson residue from it, he proceeded towards the exit, with Shiller accompanying him.

"We are approaching the culmination," Bruce observed. "What do you surmise the final challenge shall entail, Professor?"

"It may prove simpler than anticipated, or perhaps more arduous," Shiller replied. Though seemingly equivocal, Bruce understood Shiller's implication: the external form might appear less daunting, but overcoming it would require considerable effort.

Upon entering the next area, both men were taken aback. The corridor terminated not in a single chamber, but in two distinct rooms, marked by a red door and a blue door. The intervening wall was transparent, affording a view into the spaces beyond.

The interior composition was similarly minimalist. Each room contained a solitary chair, positioned to face the other. Along the shared wall between the chambers, a peculiar mechanism was situated. To label it merely a 'mechanism' would be imprecise; it was more akin to a spatial construct defined by two translucent walls, surmounted by what resembled a descending guillotine.

Shiller and Bruce each entered a doorway. As they settled into the chairs, they found themselves facing one another. Within the enclosure bounded by the transparent walls, they observed an illustration depicting two hands clasped in a handshake, with a distinct palm area and a semicircular aperture at the center of the dividing wall.

The implication was that they were to each extend a hand through the opening for a handshake, reminiscent of an arm-wrestling engagement. However, considering the menacing guillotine suspended above, it was unlikely to be as straightforward as mere friendly competition.

Shiller directed his gaze upwards along the guillotine, seeking to identify its operational mechanism. Concurrently, Bruce, driven by a desire to comprehend how to decelerate the winch in the preceding stage, began a thorough examination of the entire room.

Yet, it appeared that this stage, much like its predecessors, offered no hidden pathways for exploration, its primary focus being this unique apparatus. The element responsible for regulating the winch's speed in the prior section seemed intrinsically linked to the guillotine's control.

But what was the underlying purpose? To insert one's hand, grasp something, and subsequently face decapitation? Did it serve to impede progress in the previous level? Therefore, was the cost of one's limb a sacrifice for the benefit of others?

Both Shiller and Bruce understood that this particular stage was far from simple. Thus far, the paired player levels had primarily focused on their cooperation and willingness to make sacrifices. It seemed illogical to present such a straightforward scenario now. The difficulty wasn't the issue; rather, it was the sheer simplicity that felt off.

The premise was that the two of them would simply sit there, extend their hands, allow the guillotine to descend and sever them, thus enabling everyone else to pass. The underlying logic felt too basic, suggesting an ulterior trap.

They spent a considerable amount of time inspecting the area, even using crowbars to tap against the central mechanism, but there was absolutely no discernible reaction. It strongly indicated that two individuals placing their hands on the platform would trigger a sensor, causing the guillotine to fall, and subsequently yielding some unknown reward.

"Something feels off," Bruce vocalized. "While this appears to be a test of our sacrificial spirit, it's almost too simple. Furthermore, in previous instances, it was always a single person making the sacrifice; why must it be two this time?"

"The crucial question is why we are required to interlock hands," Shiller mused. "In this context, could it be a measure to prevent anyone from attempting to abscond with the prize solo?"

Despite a thorough search of the chamber, no other mechanisms could be found. It genuinely seemed as though they were expected to simply extend their hands and proceed.

Typically, players would exhibit hesitation in such a situation. After all, no alternative solution presented itself. The entrance to the previous section had already sealed shut, rendering any retreat impossible. The entire passage and the room itself had been exhaustively examined, revealing no hidden elements.

However, this particular stage had encountered two exceptionally stubborn individuals. Bruce and Shiller were unconvinced by the presented solution and were determined not to proceed in that manner. Due to their equal stubbornness, neither managed to sway the other. Consequently, no one proposed, "Perhaps we should try placing our hands there," and both remained engrossed in their own lines of reasoning.

"From a level design perspective, even a master like Mr. Tiger wouldn't devise such a simplistic stage. Moreover, multiple designers contributed to this level. While the mechanism's design might be unremarkable, the gameplay from the preceding stages was quite engaging, so why is there a complete absence of gameplay here?"

"Actually, a sense of strangeness began to creep in during the previous level," Shiller offered, analyzing from a more philosophical standpoint. "All the preceding stages allowed for the circumvention of necessary sacrificial acts. This suggests that the level designers are permitting the players to assume the role of antagonists."

"Within these levels, there isn't a single self-righteous, authoritative moral educator. Many games and mechanism designs unfortunately fall into this very trap. They establish a particular mindset and insist that players conform to their views, rendering the level impassable if players deviate, or even subjecting them to ridicule upon success. This can be recognized as a definitive mark of a poorly designed game."

"Yet, looking back at the earlier stages, regardless of whether one acted virtuously or wickedly, whether they were willing to sacrifice or not, passage was always achievable. Even if one's actions caused harm to others, there were no additional penalties. The entirety of the level lacked any didactic purpose, not even a subtle encouragement towards benevolence. And now, this particular stage demands personal sacrifice for the benefit of all."

"Another point of contention," Bruce added, "is that while several mechanisms necessitate a sacrificial mindset for completion, those seem more akin to sacrifices made for a comrade nearby, rather than for the entire collective. This specific design, however, explicitly calls for a contribution that benefits all participating players."

"Wait a moment." Bruce suddenly recalled something. "If the organizer did not participate in the preceding level, and it fell upon other players to make the sacrifice, could this be a form of 'tit for tat,' a guiding principle of 'everyone for me, I for everyone'?"

"Does this imply that if other players sacrificed themselves to allow us entry into this stage, we are now expected to reciprocate by sacrificing ourselves to permit other players to pass? Is that the Professor's meaning?"

"You've finally engaged your intellect, though unfortunately, this is the final stage," Shiller responded with a touch of weariness. "That is indeed a contributing factor. Had the organizer not encountered difficulties here, and had we not persuaded him to offer an arm, it would inevitably have been other players who made the sacrifice. And when those other players sacrificed, we might have felt a pang of guilt, and upon entering this room, finding ourselves compelled to sacrifice an arm for the passage of others, we might not have hesitated."

"But there's a flaw in that reasoning," Bruce countered. "How could the organizer possibly presume that the players at the bottom echelon are inherently kind-hearted individuals prone to feeling guilt?"

"According to the standard procedure, the identity of those entering the final stages can be determined by the organizer," Shiller pointed out the critical juncture.

Bruce's expression cleared, as if a realization had dawned. He remembered that in the level prior to this one, the lantern stage, the sequence for opening the doors was actually governed by a control panel situated within the lantern itself, entirely independent of game outcomes or player wins or losses.