When Feng Bujue saw the door open, he was relieved. Instead of rushing out, he took advantage of the light outside the door, went to the cage where the monkey was kept, opened the latch, lifted the gate, and lifted the sleeping monkey out.
[Name: Sleepy Tibetan macaque]
[Genre: Story related]
【 Quality: Ordinary 】
【 Function: unknown 】
[Can I take the play out: Yes]
[Note: A lively and brave monkey, now on the verge of extinction]
"Story items, however, are shown to lead out of the script, HMM..." Feng mused, he tried to put the monkey into his bag, and succeeded. Then he walked out of the room.
Outside the door is a passage, the four walls are basically metal, the roof is still four or five meters high, the lighting is normal, still can not find any window. There were some doors and side roads on either side of the passage, but they could not be opened or were blocked by large debris. It was obvious that there was only one real passageway, and after several futile attempts, Feng realized that there was nothing useful to be found on this stretch of road, so he sped up and followed the arrow. After about seven or eight minutes, he came to the end of the passageway, where once again there was a metal door marked red.
The door had no handle, and in the middle there was a round valve handwheel. Feng took hold of the handwheel and tried to turn it. He felt a lot of resistance, and it took him considerable effort to turn it.
After half a turn, the door gave a jerk, and a chill of air seeped through the crack, and a sudden sense of foreboding came over it. As he pushed it open, he realized that the metal door was very thick, and that the room was obviously an airtight freezer. The moment he opened the door, a strong chill hit his face.
Inside, the room was literally "frozen and snowy," the floor covered with white frost and there were signs of ice on all four walls. Looking up, in addition to the lighting equipment, you can see that there is a pipe about one meter in diameter in each of the three corners of the ceiling. At the moment when the door is opened, white snowflakes begin to float out of the pipe. Fortunately, although the pipe mouth is large, the snowflakes are only scattered, not many.
Feng Bujue took a deep breath, breathed hot air into his palms, rubbed his hands together, and walked into the room. As he crossed the threshold, he realized that the floor of the room was not of the right depth. It was lower than the bottom of the door, and it was not at the level of the passage at all, so that what looked like a thin layer of white frost on the floor was actually knee-deep snow. The snow made him jump a little, but it didn't work. The snow was soft, and the way to keep his feet from sinking was to increase the area of contact, so he knelt down...
He left the door open and went straight to the wall on the opposite side of the room. There was another door, but there was no handwheel to open it, only an electronic lock embedded in the door that required a passcode and a screen with space for a four-digit code. On the wall beside the door lock was an apparently movable iron plate, about ten centimetres square on one side, with a small handle. When Feng Bujue pulled back the board, the iron door that allowed him to enter the room automatically closed.
Behind the iron plate was a small space with a tape, and it was clear what to do next...
Feng Bujue take out the tape, and took out the walkman on the body, will be inside the original tape out into the bag, and then put the new disc in, press the play key.
"Merry Christmas, Arthur. It is a time for families to come together, and the Christmas spirit is also about selfless giving and blessings..."
Feng Bujue unconsciously listening to the recording, while the room began a second careful observation. He had noticed that the most striking thing in the room was a rather newlooking newspaper taped to one of the metal walls. The wall was clearly treated, and the ice around the newspaper was not too severe. Although there was artificial snow, the humidity in the room was not too high, and the writing was still legible. "They are no different from us," read the headline, alongside a picture of homeless people warming themselves around a barrel of waste oil in the background of a snowy sky and a white ground. Of course, this report was also written by "Arthur Seiger."
"You often attend charity events and get in front of the cameras, but we all know that in private you never donate to anything. You call on people not to discriminate against those who are homeless, but you yourself never show respect to anyone below you in social status, and you disgust everyone around you with your vitriol and snobbery. You also speak up for the elderly, saying they need more attention and understanding, but you use your job every year as an excuse not to spend Thanksgiving and Christmas with your own parents.
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Arthur, more than once you've taken the moral high ground and denounced human indifference and institutional injustice, but your actions have shown that you don't know what you're talking about.
Now, you have a chance to see how those helpless people get through. In this snowy room, there is a piece of cardboard with the code you need to open the lock on it. All you have to do is reach into the snow beneath your feet and look for the piece of paper.
Like every cold man on the street on a snowy night longing for a glimmer of hope, you have no time limit, but even if you find something, the best thing you can do is wait until dawn..."
By the end of the recording, Feng Bujue was shivering with cold. The game gives the clothing in the virtual temperature of more than 20 degrees Celsius environment can ensure the comfort of the player, and then hot or cold some more, the player will have the corresponding body feeling. Now the ice cave was distinctly sub-zero, and the three pipes in the ceiling were slowly increasing the depth of the snow.
In order to ensure the flexibility of his fingers, he quickly ran through the recording in his mind and repeatedly repeated the last sentence, saying, "Just like those people who are freezing... if they find 'what', they will endure until dawn..." According to his speculation, this is the only hint, quite obscure, but definitely indicative of something.
Feng Bujue did not realize that he was standing up again. He was completely frozen from the knees down. Now it did not matter if he put his feet in the snow, because he could not feel it. He staggered over to the newspaper, staring intently at the story and the photograph, searching for any possible clues.
Feng Bujue realize that this is the best time to search for clues, and physical work can be done when there is really no way. If he impatiently inserts his hands into the snow on the ground to dig, then five minutes later, even if his fingers have not frozen off, the decrease in body temperature will intensify. If he develops into the state of slow reaction and blurred consciousness before freezing to death, it is impossible to solve the mystery.
"Something to keep a tramp till morning..." Feng Bujue aware to speak out to focus: "A few people around a bucket, burning garbage to keep warm until dawn? No, no, not so..." An image of an old man wearing sunglasses suddenly flashed into his mind: "Got it... MADAO sleeping on the street three artifacts, cardboard box, dog, radio." At this thought he struck.
The spread of the newspaper had been attached to the wall with four little pieces of tape holding the four corners together, and he tore off the corners as carefully as he could without destroying the large piece in the middle.
"I have not a dog unless I make a snowbank of one. The radio... The walkman counts. As for the cartons..." Feng had removed the newspaper from the wall, and although a small piece was missing from each of the four corners, it did not interfere with his task.
As I have said, this newspaper is very new, so the creases are very clear. One would not fold a newspaper in half more than twice, but there are many creases in this newspaper, which undoubtedly shows that it has been folded into something.
Feng Bujue's hands are not stiff, but he was still affected by the extreme cold. In fact, in his game menu, the special status next to the survival value was already displayed as "frozen".
Although the newspaper was missing corners, its shape, which perfectly matched the crease, had been sealed and folded -- a tiny cardboard box.
Feng unknowingly took it in his hand and looked at it, turned several angles, and finally found a series of letters and numbers in a place where several paper edges overlap.
The letters in a newspaper cannot all be in the same format. Occasionally, different font sizes and styles may appear, such as the letters used in the title or image footnotes, which are different from those in the article.
The letters and numbers he found were all of the same size and style, all uppercase, spread out on different pages and positions in the newspaper, and folded together into a neat little section.
"FM27.3 MHZ......" Feng Bujue read: " radio band..." He set the walkman to listen to the radio.
There was noise on all the frequencies, as well as FM27.3, but he decided on that frequency, turned it up, and waited. Sure enough, after about forty seconds of noise, a hoarse voice read, "Nine, five, two, seven." Then there was a rustling noise.
Feng Bujue rushed to the exit door, "What break the password, low people and dogs can not enter the meaning of it..."
Sure enough, the code was correct and the door opened. Feng Bujue ran out of the room When he reached the corridor outside, he was so cold that he rolled on the ground. He rolled twice, then stood up and did more than twenty straight arm squats. As he did so, he looked at the menu and saw that his survival rate had dropped to 67 percent, but the freezing condition quickly lifted at room temperature.
In any case, it's less of a loss to come out this way than to get down on the ground and dig for a piece of paper. Feng Bujue's luck of playing games has always been very bad, like just that kind of needle in a haystack general operation, he did not turn over every inch of the room to find the snow under the paper.
After passing this second pass, he didn't immediately turn off the walkman. He soon noticed a pattern on that frequency. Every minute or so, the four-digit code was repeated on FM27.3, while the other frequencies were a constant noise.
Having recovered his body temperature, Feng Bujue moved on. He estimated that the script didn't plan how long it would take for Arthur Seiger to get to a hospital and be treated. The original recording said he had 40 minutes to find an exit or die from the toxins in his system. But Feng Bujue didn't notice that it was on the menu, and at this point he couldn't tell whether the drop in survival was due to the cold or the slow action of the toxin. Anyway, this is not a sexually explicit poison effect, but some sort of story event, which simply means that you have to finish the script in 40 minutes or it's GAMEOVER.
Feng Bujue has spent more than twenty minutes, he passed the second level of speed is fast, plus before the first room consumption of five minutes, and running time, he arrived at the third game, should still have about fifteen minutes left. The system must take into account the possibility of the player choosing to plow snow in Level 2, which would undoubtedly take longer. So from the time factor of consideration, Feng Bujue to face the next game, no accident should be the last one. Once it's done, he can end the play.