Hua Hualong, who had watched the Oscars for over a decade, had honed her acting skills to perfection.
Upon realizing that she was the weakest among everyone present, she put on a calm and composed front, as if everything was under control.
There was a reason for acting this way instead of continuing to appear weak — she was the only girl among the nine participants, already drawing enough attention.
Her delicate and fragile appearance had already placed her at the bottom of the hierarchy.
If she continued behaving in a timid manner, it might backfire, leading others to label her as someone “pretending to be weak,” which could result in her being targeted.
Therefore, appearing “calm and composed” would be more effective at this point.
Creating the illusion of forced composure would reinforce the impression that she was “fragile” and “easy to defeat,” helping her avoid being labeled as a manipulative faker.
A quick glance revealed that the other eight participants were also sizing each other up.
They all seemed to be in their early twenties, but their body types varied greatly.
One of them was by far the most physically imposing — muscular, bald, and with a fierce face that gave off gangster vibes.
Most notably, he was dressed in athletic wear and sneakers, as if he had come prepared.
Without a doubt, he posed the greatest threat in the competition — the complete opposite of the fragile, seemingly bottom-tier Hua Hualong.
Another man in a black suit was in the middle of taking off his shoes.
Sitting on the ground, his gaze appeared to drift aimlessly but would frequently pause a little longer on a man in blue.
That man in blue, meanwhile, was fiddling with his buttons in a peculiar way, as if—
Hua Hualong suddenly recalled a familiar scene — wasn’t this exactly like students signaling each other during an exam?
The similarity was 99.99%.
No mistake — they were using secret signals.
After realizing this, she began observing the others more closely, noticing that several of them were acting oddly, seemingly communicating covertly and plotting something.
A man wearing glasses, dressed in a white shirt like a typical office worker, was adjusting his sleeves — but his pinky finger was sticking out, subtly pointing toward the bald strongman.
Was he signaling someone to target the bald guy?
Hua Hualong realized she was being completely ignored.
Even though she stood out as an oddball — a strikingly different presence — she still failed to hold anyone’s attention for long.
Droplets of water slid down her cheeks and fell onto her chest.
It was unclear whether it was cold sweat or leftover water.
This sensual scene stirred no excitement in the others.
In a life-or-death situation, such things naturally became irrelevant.
Should she form an alliance?
After all, the bald guy had become everyone’s common target.
Should she try siding with him?
No!
That would be a mistake.
Right now, she was like an invisible person.
There was no need to thrust herself into the spotlight.
From the contemptuous glances the others gave her, it was clear that her acting and appearance were working.
She looked at the track — she was assigned to lane 9, the far right outermost lane.
This was advantageous; it allowed her to further minimize her presence.
Could this be her chance?
She scanned the varied expressions of the others again, and the game’s rules began to resurface in her mind.
Suddenly — a flash of insight struck her.
She grasped the hidden meaning embedded within the rules.
…
Ten seconds remained before the race began.
Everyone had found their designated lanes.
The bald man was in lane 2, the black-suited man in lane 5, the blue-clad man in lane 6, and the office worker in lane 1.
The three clearly appeared to be scheming against the bald guy.
3…
2…
1…
The bald man shot off like an arrow — but not straight forward.
Instead, he dashed left and swung a clenched left fist hard into the office worker’s face.
The office worker never expected to be the first target.
The punch landed squarely, sending him tumbling across the ground several times, face covered in blood, condition unknown.
She guessed right!
Hua Hualong jogged forward at a slow, deliberate pace.
She appeared to be running with all her might, but was actually only using half of her strength — her speed was nowhere near fast.
If the rules didn’t explicitly forbid something, it meant it was allowed — such as hitting or even killing others.
[Special Mechanism 1, Clause 2]: The teleport location corresponds to the focal point within your line of sight.
[Special Mechanism 1, Clause 3]: If no focal point is detected, teleportation defaults to the furthest distance directly ahead.
These two clauses implicitly permitted interference in the race — including violence and possibly murder.
As for the second clause, it clearly stated that the teleport location was wherever your eyes were focused — meaning, whatever spot you’re looking at, pressing the red button on your left hand would teleport you there instantly.
Now let’s talk about the third clause: if there’s no focal point — meaning, for instance, if you’re blind and can’t see anything — the system will default to teleporting you 100 meters straight ahead.
Yes, did you catch that in the rules?
Not only do the rules not prohibit attacking others, but they even include allowances for disabled participants.
That alone implies that this whole setup is designed to provoke conflict.
This isn’t just a simple 1000-meter sprint — it’s a test of both intelligence and physical strength.
The man in lane 3 also dashed forward to try attacking the bald guy.
But he quickly realized he had been played — the people who had made prior agreements with him were now sprinting forward with all their might.
They never had any intention of helping him attack the bald guy; they just tricked him into doing it.
After all, anyone can use hand signals.
It costs nothing to try, and if you can deceive someone, that’s a win.
There’s always some fool who believes they’re the exception.
Not every man with an eight-pack is as savage as Ripped-Ripped-Ripped, and not every bald man is as overpowered as Saitama.
But to build such a powerful body in this shadowy world — if it’s not for show, then it’s truly badass.
The man in lane 3 took a kick to the abdomen, followed by a punch to the face.
His jawbone shattered, and his face was gruesomely disfigured.
And it wasn’t over.
The bald guy raised his foot and stomped hard, snapping the man’s right arm.
Then he grabbed the limb and twisted it violently — a gut-wrenching scream rang out as the man’s right arm broke backwards at a horrifying 90-degree angle.
It was a display — a warning to the remaining five.
Why five, and not six?
Because the bald guy didn’t even consider Hua Hualong, whom he saw as totally useless, to be a threat.
Seeing everyone scheming, seeing that towel-clad woman completely out of place, he became certain — that woman was the newcomer from the group chat: BookletNa.
What really concerned the bald guy, though, was a different member of the QQ group — LeftHandForFriendship.
That guy was the real problem.
Just a few days ago, in a previous mission world, LeftHandForFriendship had used a female body.
That mission world was intelligence-based and quite unusual.
At the time, he had teamed up with another group member named Wind of Remembrance, who later recounted the events in the chat.
That’s what made things complicated.
At 2 PM earlier, the group leader had called out three people: sinAmaterasu, LeftHandForFriendship, and BookletNa.
But in the 30 minutes since then, LeftHandForFriendship had already created a male character — clearly a move designed to counter sinAmaterasu.
There was no way the bald guy would believe the towel-wrapped woman was LeftHandForFriendship.
Her appearance and behavior didn’t match at all.
So he was confident that she was BookletNa, the one lured in by two of his group buddies.
This race clearly wasn’t going to be easy.
The remaining seven contestants were all running forward with hidden agendas.
Even though it was only a two-minute run, every single second felt agonizingly long.