Days as a Spiritual Mentor in American Comics Chapter 5691 - 4715: Deadly Escape (48)

"Correct, they mentioned an execution, yet they never explicitly stated that you would certainly perish," Shiller remarked. "It’s a mere narrative ploy."

"Don’t overlook the fact that in the preceding phases, there were absolutely no puzzles that mandated a death, nor were there any eliminations for the last-place participants. So, tell me, why did they suddenly necessitate the elimination of the final group during the lantern stage?"

"Ah, I comprehend," Bruce responded with swift understanding. "The so-called ’elimination of the last group’ is merely a diversion. In actuality, it serves to isolate the final group externally, thereby enabling the progression of the Cultist storyline."

The predicament facing the last group likely involved a malfunction in the execution mechanism or sabotage by an insider, allowing the final pair to escape. Concurrently, these two would inadvertently stumble into the Cultists’ stronghold, embarking on a singular questline.

This scenario isn't without its consequences. Firstly, if the game unfolds as intended, the group that endured the most pursuit has probably already sustained significant injuries and lost vital body parts. Secondly, these Cultists might prove formidable adversaries—requiring either brute force or puzzle-solving. That final group, most likely, would be incapable of completing the game; they would simply be engaging with supplementary content.

Should they, however, succeed in completing their task, they could return through an undisclosed passage and provide hints to the active players, advising them against engaging with the illusory stage quests and instead urging them to rectify the mechanism and uncover the genuine path to victory.

Naturally, if that group meets their demise, Bruce and Shiller’s party might need to make sacrifices to traverse the Cultist route and achieve victory.

"That’s actually rather ingenious," Shiller commented. "Typically, by the time a group reaches this point, those lagging behind have effectively lost their capacity to act. A solitary questline such as this can at least offer some engagement for players unable to complete the main objective. The game’s designer is truly grasping at straws for positive reviews."

In Shiller’s assessment, this design doesn't solely aim to enrich the level's content; its primary purpose is to mitigate the frustration experienced by the lagging groups.

Within a high-difficulty dungeon of this nature, a substantial number of players are bound to struggle and still fall short of completion. In such circumstances, these groups would perceive the game as overwhelmingly difficult and unenjoyable.

The method to alleviate that frustration is to bestow upon those lagging groups a sense of significance. This could be achieved by either allowing them to discover an alternative route to completion or by enabling them to make a sacrifice that aids others in succeeding. This way, their demise at least holds meaning, offering a degree of psychological solace, and diminishing the likelihood of them leaving negative feedback post-game.

However, this particular cohort of players undeniably epitomizes the adage, "Everything about the process is flawed, yet the final outcome is satisfactory."

Three attempts in the lantern room resulted in no eliminations, rendering the side quest likely un-triggerable as no one remained behind to undertake the Cultist storyline.

Yet, Anatoli's single strike shattered the lantern device, sending the organizers into a desperate flight. Stark, in his haste, collided with the skylight stage, trapping Batman and the others outside, compelling them to seek out the Cultists’ lair.

Normally, entry to this area is inaccessible without proceeding through a specific cutscene. However, the lantern’s uncontrolled trajectory exposed the staff passage. Everyone took a circuit within; Batman, too, passed through the staff passage into the Cultists’ lair, uncovered crucial clues, and returned to sound the alarm.

If one must assign responsibility, the most significant contributor to the entire process veering wildly off course, yet miraculously continuing, is the agent. He orchestrated the sabotage of the game, providing Anatoli the opportunity to destroy the lantern and thus unveil the staff passage; furthermore, he was the one obstructing the staff passage, causing the organizers to disperse, allowing the others to rush into the stage and ensnare the external group. Worry not about the program's flawless execution; merely ascertain if it is functioning at all.

Naturally, the presence of so many eccentric individuals within this group is also a pivotal factor. Anatoli initiated his action, and the rest promptly joined the ensuing team battle. They exhibited remarkable unspoken coordination in other instances as well—for example, when Bruce and Shiller completed the stage and did not immediately return, not a single person displayed anxiety, nor was there the faintest inclination to investigate the mechanism.

Regardless, the situation inexplicably righted itself. Shiller and Bruce successfully discerned the Cultists’ stratagem and acquired the legitimate method for game completion. The primary enigma now was: how to execute it?

They were now aware that the penultimate stage and the final stage were, in essence, identical—the true concluding level—the one where the Cultists’ deceptive stage is dismantled, and the genuine path is uncovered.

The difficulty of this stage was definitely not low, and the way you cleared it might even determine the story’s ending. So how exactly do you break the fake stage and find the true way out?

"We need to first find out what parts the Cultists altered," Bruce said. "Right now the chains run downward. If the exit is above, then this is the most important change. Originally, the chains probably went upward, and the blades probably didn’t exist, because that’s just way too gory and violent."

"I think we should try to figure out what the company’s original clear method was. It should be in line with their usual style—probably needs someone to sacrifice themselves, but it’s not mandatory, and scheming and cooperation coexist among players."

"Does the panel above the skylight exist?" Bruce asked himself and answered himself. "I think it should, since it’s part of the large‑scale construction; they can’t just fiddle with that. Which means by design you could only stick your arm out. But what’s the point of sticking your arm out to grab the chains?"

"Could it be that the people on the lowest level are supposed to step on others’ hands to climb up?" Shiller floated a possibility, but quickly shot it down himself. "That’s a bit too simple. If it were Anatoli, he wouldn’t need anyone to grab the chains—he could climb up on his own. If you run into a rope‑climbing expert, that kind of cooperation becomes pointless."

"If you want cooperation to matter, then grabbing the chain has to be a necessary step. So what thing needs this many people grabbing the chain together?" Bruce frowned in thought, then suddenly froze and spit out a word: "Electricity."

"The human body has high resistance and can be used to share current. And the reason it’s an iron chain and not a hemp rope is probably for conduction."

Shiller caught up too: "So originally this stage was that the iron chain carried current. The person on the lowest level can climb the chain, but can’t withstand the Electric Shock; the others can’t climb the chain, but they can share the current. In that case, you need enough people holding the chain for the person at the bottom to climb up, open the escape route, and let everyone else climb up."

"Exactly. It’s that classic good‑and‑evil game theory again—will the people above deliberately let go so the person on the chain gets electrocuted, and will the ones who climb up later come back to save the others? But no matter what you choose, there’s no forced sacrifice. Worst case, you just don’t clear the stage."

"If that’s the case, there’s no need to mess with the iron chain," Shiller said. "Then the winch is actually just like the blade, it doesn’t really need to exist. If that thing was added later, we can probably find a way to break it."

"But the two of us can’t go back now," Bruce said. "Why is that? Does choosing the Cultist route mean we can never clear the game using the normal route again?"

"That’s possible. After all, we didn’t get the Cultist clues in the normal way. Under normal circumstances, they might move a lot faster. The last group might even make it down to the bottom level, who knows. Instead of like now, where the two of us are already in the trap and only then do the clues for clearing the level show up."

"So do we have to finish this stage?" Bruce looked again at the guillotine. "It seems like completing the flesh-and-blood sacrifice is the only way now."

"No need," Shiller said. "Have the previous lessons still not made you give up being Batman?"

Bruce froze for a moment, but Shiller had already sat back down on the chair and said, "We just need to sit here and wait for people to come save us."

As soon as he finished speaking, Anatoli in the lightwell level had already stood up. He said, "From what I know about A Zhi, 36 minutes is his limit before he snaps. Add in time for solving puzzles, it won’t exceed 50 minutes. And it’s already been an hour. He must be stuck."

Lucifer was full of confusion. He said, "Thirty‑six minutes? How is it that precise?"

"Don’t ask, I don’t want to talk about it," Anatoli said. "It’s not exactly a pleasant memory."

"Then I absolutely have to hear it," Lucifer immediately laughed.

"Business first, I’ll tell you when we get back." Anatoli glanced up at the lightwell and said loudly to the others, "When the key fell, I was already observing the pattern of the Rebound. Under normal conditions, as long as I throw an object of a certain mass at a certain time, in a certain direction, the blade and the lightwell walls will help me bounce it right into the openings on the other levels. We can use this to pass items around."

The remainder of the group essentially listened, baffled, questioning the reality of the situation. Wasn't this supposed to involve psychological strategies? How had it devolved into mathematics and physics?

"So, precisely how are we meant to hurl it?" Thor inquired.

"No clue, I'm dreadful at math," confessed Anatoli. "However, I believe you individuals should be capable of calculating it. The blade's trajectory adheres to a predictable pattern, so it shouldn't prove excessively challenging."

While some individuals continued to express their skepticism, others had already begun contemplating the feasibility of the plan. The former group comprised those with weaker math and physics skills, whereas the latter consisted of individuals possessing at least some background in mechanics.

Although the concept sounded somewhat unconventional, it wasn't entirely beyond the realm of possibility. They had all witnessed the key's erratic bouncing earlier. If it could ricochet its way in, perhaps they could indeed send items downward.

However, a crucial question arose: for what purpose were they sending items? The liberal arts contingent commenced a discussion on this very point. Anatoli promptly provided the answer: "We need to devise a method to disable the winch situated below. The individuals on the second floor should be in a position to accomplish this."

Conveniently, Harley and Pamela were located on the second floor. Directly beneath the aperture through which they extended their arms lay the winch. As previously mentioned, the winch was not affixed to the ground floor but rather to the underside of the bottom ceiling – which also served as the floor of the second story – placing it conveniently close to the opening.

"I shall propel this apparatus downwards," announced Anatoli, brandishing the iron rod with its attached chain before the opening. "Then, combined with the one attached to your person, we ought to be able to lower it onto the winch and immobilize the mechanism."

From his vantage point on the third floor, Loki assisted in estimating the required distance and then nodded. "Indeed, two chains plus the rod should be more than sufficient. But..."

He cast a glance toward Harley, his hesitation palpable. The reason for his reluctance stemmed from the fact that if both were required to succeed, regardless of whether the other could be successfully thrown down, Harley's piece would undoubtedly need to be detached.

Yet, Harley had already begun working on her clavicle. Pamela attempted to intervene, but once Harley became determined, even Pamela found herself unable to restrain her. Fearing further injury from struggling, she could only voice her concern from a distance, unable to bear watching.

Harley, however, paid it no mind. The process of extracting the clavicle ring mirrored Shiller's method: her approach was one of embracing "short-term pain for long-term gain," severing it cleanly with a single, decisive snap. The surge of adrenaline and dopamine masked any significant discomfort. "Alright, alright, it's done! Let's begin!" she exclaimed with fervent enthusiasm.

The academically inclined members of the group, naturally, did not falter. Erik, Loki, and Pamela meticulously calculated potential trajectories for the maneuver. Still, due to the multitude of variables involved, they harbored reservations about its reliability.

As anticipated, Anatoli's initial throw proved unsuccessful. Nevertheless, the first two rebounds closely approximated their calculated predictions, thereby validating the feasibility of trajectory forecasting through calculation. It merely required a greater degree of precision in execution and enhanced rigor.

Next, it was Erik's turn, positioned below Anatoli, to remove his clavicle ring. Erik demonstrated exceptional fortitude, snapping his clavicle without uttering a sound. Charles maintained a stoic demeanor, offering no verbal comment.

This time, their efforts saw improvement, with the object even bouncing close to Harley's opening. Harley instinctively moved to retrieve it, but Pamela swiftly pulled her back, averting a potential arm injury.

Now, the sole remaining individuals possessing an iron rod were Loki's contingent. They represented the final glimmer of hope.