The world has turned into Hell's Game, why should I stay human? Chapter 4 First Takeout Order

Once the rules were laid out, Niu Ma stopped paying any heed to Liu Zheng and flopped down on the floor for a sound sleep.

Glancing around, he spotted nothing to kill time with, so he pulled out his phone to fiddle with.

It was an outdated phone, cut off from the web and stripped of apps, featuring just one pre-installed game: Snake.

"Why Snake of all things?"

Staring at the elongated snake formed by black and white pixels on the display, Liu Zheng pondered deeply.

A delivery rider's fighting strength could squash him in an instant, and given all the weird rules, this scenario clearly favored brain-teasers over brawn.

Deduction wasn't his forte, yet he understood that in puzzle setups, every element typically served a reason.

To figure out a game's value, playing it was the way.

He hit the start button, launching the game.

The black pixel serpent pursued dots popping up randomly across the screen, lengthening with every bite.

Score displayed on the bottom left, timer bar on the right.

Periodically, a big blinking pixel emerged, and the timer bar began contracting.

Normal pixels scored 5 points; big ones up to 25, dropping as the timer waned.

Hitting a score threshold spawned a square pixel.

Steer the snake's head to it for level progression.

Rules were basic; his plan simple: gobble big pixels fast to minimize snake length.

Risks existed, naturally.

Longer snake meant tunnel-vision on big pixels, easy to crash into its tail.

Still, mere child's play—Liu Zheng hit level 10 swiftly.

Level 10 ramped up the challenge sharply: snake sped up, screen cluttered with hurdles.

While laser-focused on big pixels, warm breath tickled his ear suddenly.

He paused and whipped around—yep, Niu Ma's massive head loomed.

"You actually went and played it, huh."

Niu Ma wore an eager expression.

"Shouldn't this game be ignored?"

"Doesn't matter now—humans can't dodge games anyway."

Niu Ma shook its head.

"You've begun, so keep going, and absolutely don't lose,"

it instructed.

"Gotta beat the whole thing?"

"Quit at level 20 if you want, but reopen it and you finish or bust."

"Oh, best I've witnessed is 24 levels."

Liu Zheng eyed the top screen: level counter at 10/25.

"How many kept at it?"

he inquired.

Niu Ma stayed silent, gaze drifting to the wall's crowded lockers.

Each had cycled through multiple occupants.

"Fine then,"

Liu Zheng shrugged and resumed the game.

Niu Ma didn't nap again, hovering nearby to observe.

Level after level, one by one...

Liu Zheng shifted to a cautious, reliable tactic, inching toward level 20.

Level 20 cranked difficulty sky-high again.

Snake velocity doubled beyond level one, obstacles positioned deviously.

Big pixel spawns grew erratic, scoring far tougher.

Worst: screen now spawned spiky pixels.

Liu Zheng didn't know their deal, but mine-like for sure.

After grueling effort to clear it, sweat soaked him.

"Not bad, explains your killer massages,"

Niu Ma complimented.

It couldn't crack level one at Snake.

Good thing game curses hit humans only; Niu Ma folk dodged them.

"Clear reward?"

Liu Zheng queried, wiping sweat.

"Nobody's sure; rumors fly—fat cash stack, job bump, or train pass."

"Train ticket?"

"Yep, Bloody Restaurant exit pass, city escape."

Niu Ma sounded wistful.

Quietly, Liu Zheng closed the game.

Curiosity burned, but not suicide-level.

He wasn't feline, after all.

Abruptly, Niu Ma rose.

"Work incoming."

It announced.

Liu Zheng checked the door; lower panel slid open slowly.

Skinny hand poked in, dropped paper, yanked back fast.

Niu Ma sauntered over, peeked.

"Lucky break, human."

It nodded chin-ward for Liu Zheng to grab the slip.

He approached, snatched it, scanned the text.

"Order: Deformed-eyed Salmon Head Pizza, one serving"

"Address: Merlin District Building 3, Room 503."

"Deadline: one hour."

"Why lucky?"

Liu Zheng wondered.

"You'll see soon. Now deliver your debut order,"

Niu Ma prodded.

Watched closely, Liu Zheng donned uniform, grabbed phone and map.

Stepping from the lounge, the door shut itself soundlessly.

Icy dread crawled up Liu Zheng's neck, unknown peril prickling his flesh.

"Stuck between hammer and anvil, truly."

Liu Zheng mused grimly.

He eyed the food cart, bearing a sealed bag.

Opening revealed a square box, lid bearing a crimson iris.

Liu Zheng paused seconds, then flipped it open.

Scalp-numbing sight hit him.

Dozen-plus salmon heads, eye counts warped, crammed on 9-inch crust, glossy black orbs glaring alive-like.

Those stares pierced soul-deep, trapping Liu Zheng.

Slap!

He smacked his cheek hard.

Pain snapped clarity; refocusing, fish eyes now dull, lifeless.

Eerie vibe gone, raw revulsion surged.

"Name: Deformed-eyed Salmon Head Pizza"

"Type: Item"

"Quality: Excellent"

"Effect: Boosts player perception briefly, slim shot at 'Spiritual Vision' status, permanent Spirit drop."

"Note: Staring at stars might reveal heaven—or hell."

"Carry out of instance: Yes"

An item? Exportable even?

System info sparked wild notion in Liu Zheng.

Timing wasn't right yet.

He slammed lid shut, sealing faint stares.

"Merlin District."

Map indicated 6 km from Bloody Restaurant.

Pre-this, easy jog—he'd crushed half-marathons.

Now? Daunting.

Endurance maybe, but lungs? No.

"Heh."

Liu Zheng gripped his leaden throat involuntarily.

He'd bottled discomfort to hide frailty from Niu Ma.

Body battle lost; willpower war just ignited.