Present
When Zhou Luoyang opened his eyes, he could hear the patter of rain. In the dim hospital room, a nurse was giving him an injection.
Zhou Luoyang’s arms and legs were bound to the bed with leather straps. He had been changed into a hospital gown. He pulled at the leather experimentally, but his body felt like it would fall apart. Even the slightest movement was excruciating.
Where was Du Jing?
The nurse spoke in Khmer. He couldn’t understand her, but he figured she was telling him not to move.
“What did you give me?” he asked shakily.
“Painkiller.” The nurse understood him, but her Chinese was stilted.
Cambodians often had dealings with Chinese people, and so they knew some simple Chinese. But what did it mean for a nurse at a tiny, worn-down hospital to also know Chinese?
She must have come in contact with Chinese people before.
The medication was kicking in. The pain throughout Zhou Luoyang’s body eased, and he slowly calmed down.
Was Du Jing still alive? They weren’t in the same hospital room. Zhou Luoyang looked around and saw mottled walls and a dilapidated wooden bed. Outside the window was a verdant green forest. Thanks to the rain, he couldn’t figure out the time of day, but judging by the timing of the helicopter crash, it was likely already daytime.
Why were they suddenly attacked? Zhou Luoyang’s heart began to race. Had Huang Ting sold them out? No, that wasn’t possible. Huang Ting didn’t seem like a bad guy. And even if Zhou Luoyang couldn’t see through him, Du Jing was an investigator. He would never make such a silly mistake.
From Wan City to Hong Kong and later to Ho Chi Minh, Huang Ting had never done anything to warrant suspicion.
Then did his informant sell them out? Zhou Luoyang didn’t know if Huang Ting and Zhuang Li were all right or if they had been captured.
Maybe Du Jing was in another room close by. He had been more seriously injured than Zhou Luoyang. The moment they crash landed, Du Jing had protected him and had fallen unconscious as a result. Moreover, they hadn’t managed to turn back time as the plane crashed.
Du Jing’s medication interacted badly with some others. He couldn’t let them blindly pump drugs into him…Zhou Luoyang remembered now—he had to find Du Jing soon. What time was it? Where was he?
Zhou Luoyang tried to move. The leather around his limbs wasn’t tightly fastened but he found it was nigh impossible to slip free. He was stuck to the bed.
The room was quiet. Zhou Luoyang could hear the sound of a bed being turned over somewhere nearby, followed by the sound of doctors and nurses running down the corridor outside.
“Du Jing!” Zhou Luoyang yelled. “Is that you?”
When he didn’t get a reply, he called out several more times. Just then, the door opened, and two people entered.
In the lead was a fierce-looking Southeast Asian man wearing camouflage local to the area. He was followed by a young man: Ruan Song!
Zhou Luoyang fell silent. The moment Ruan Song appeared, he realized that was it—they had been captured by the KCR.
He didn’t try to struggle free anymore, opting instead to watch Ruan Song calmly.
The soldier said something to Ruan Song. Ruan Song walked over and released the leather straps from Zhou Luoyang’s wrists and ankles.
“We have clothes ready for you.” Ruan Song pointed at the cabinet on one side of the room. “You can change into them.”
Zhou Luoyang felt a sense of foreboding, but he didn’t ask any questions. He opened the cabinet and found within it his ruined clothes. His passport and the lipstick gun he’d taken from Sup had been confiscated.
He looked closer. Next to his own clothes was a set of Cambodian ethnic wear.
“When you’ve changed, come with us,” Ruan Song said. “Don’t think about running. This place is teeming with guards. If you made it outside, you’d see that it’s all forest, and the forest is filled with electric fences. If you run, they’ll shoot you. I’m not joking. Your only chance of survival is to do as you’re told.”
“Where’s Groot?” asked Zhou Luoyang.
“He’s not in danger, at least not yet. Whether he will be later depends on how you behave.”
The soldier asked Ruan Song a question. He didn’t sound very happy. Ruan Song explained something to him, after which he stopped asking and instead gruffly reprimanded Zhou Luoyang in Khmer. Zhou Luoyang could tell he wanted him to hurry up.
He was led into the corridor. He looked toward the hospital room not far away. He suspected that Du Jing was in there. And yet, though they were separated by mere meters, he didn’t dare act rashly. He understood that they really would be shot at—it was no empty threat.
If they died here, there would be no investigation. Their deaths would be treated as just another disappearance.
He was brought out of the hospital and into an off-road vehicle. The vehicle drove into the unpaved forest. Zhou Luoyang noticed that the soldier behind the wheel didn’t use any form of navigation and was concentrated solely on driving further into the trees.
“They block all communications here, except for their own wireless network. No one will come save you,” Ruan Song told him again.
Zhou Luoyang hummed. “Thanks for the reminder.”
Ruan Song pulled the curtains shut and rolled down the partition between their seats and the driver’s seat. Now the scenery outside was no longer visible.
“Why did you do that?” Zhou Luoyang asked.
Ruan Song didn’t answer him.
In the endless quiet, Ruan Song finally blurted, “Who the hell are you people? What does this have to do with you? Wasn’t living peacefully in Wan City good enough for you? Why would you come to court death in Cambodia?”
Zhou Luoyang didn’t answer him either.
“Do you like Lu Zhongyu?” Ruan Song asked.
“You’re reading too much into it. I don’t feel anything for him at all. I just didn’t want him to die, so I tried to save his life.”
As he spoke, Zhou Luoyang studied Ruan Song intently. “Why?”
“They have my wife. She owes them over two million from gambling.”
Now Zhou Luoyang understood. He didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “Two million? Is this worth it?”
Ruan Song’s eyes suddenly flashed with hatred. He growled, “Is this worth it? Is this worth it? Can you hand over two million? If you can, would you give it to me? Do you know what two million can buy? It can buy several human lives!”
Ruan Song’s face twisted. Zhou Luoyang took a deep breath, but after a moment’s hesitation ultimately kept his mouth shut.
“Then have you earned enough?” he asked.
“If Lu Zhongyu wins,” Ruan Song said, coldly and cruelly, “I will.”
“Win what?”
Ruan Song didn’t say anything anymore.
Zhou Luoyang tried to keep track of the time. Almost an hour later, the car stopped, and he was escorted out.
He turned around, but Ruan Song didn’t get out. He remained seated in the car, staring coldly back at him.
There was a peculiar manor nestled in the dense, ancient rainforest. Just as Zhou Luoyang was about to look up at it, the butt of a gun knocked against the back of his head again, warning him against looking around. The door was hidden behind a fence of spiraling wire netting and surrounded by cameras. Zhou Luoyang surmised that this was the back door of the manor.
He spotted several signal-blocking cars.
The off-road vehicle that had brought him drove away. Zhou Luoyang followed the muddy path into an underground cement passageway. When he entered, he got the sneaking suspicion that the passageway must be the hiding place of countless munitions.
It was very spacious in the underground passage. Underneath the lights that hung from the ceiling, several soldiers were playing poker around a table. Zhou Luoyang studied their uniforms but wasn’t able to identify them as any nation’s military uniform.
Maybe they were mercenaries?
Zhou Luoyang entered an elevator. A soldier swiped his card. The elevator had buttons for only two floors. When they arrived at their destination, he was handed over to another guard in a suit. The guard beckoned politely and walked him down a long hallway and into another elevator. This elevator took them directly to another floor within the manor.
The manor itself was decorated in the European style of the colonial period. Another two guards stood at the door. Zhou Luoyang looked at them, at their appearances and the subtle signs of their training, and knew from Du Jing’s teachings that neither were to be trifled with.
They opened the door for him and brought him into a rather luxuriously decorated study. It was a dark, rainy evening, yet the lights within the study were dazzlingly bright. A Southeast Asian man about forty years old sat at the desk, cleaning a pistol.
He shot Zhou Luoyang a glance and broke into an eerie smile.
“Hello. May I ask what your honorable surname is?” the Southeast Asian man asked in Chinese. “My name is Hong Hou. You are Chinese, so you may call me Hou-ge.”
“There’s no need for formalities—it’s Zhou,” Zhou Luoyang said serenely.
He surveyed the decor in the room. It was so full of relics it could have been made into a private museum. Buddha heads, Vishnu portraits, Ganesha statues, bronze shrines, embroidered rugs of the monkey god Hanuman, Nepalese pagodas, Chinese porcelain, Byzantine sculptures, modern abstract paintings…and Meiji period katanas mounted on either side of the bookshelf.
In the center hung a longbow and arrow, which he estimated dated back to the Siam era.
Hong Hou retrieved two sheets of A4 paper from his drawer. Zhou Luoyang’s picture was on one sheet, accompanied by his basic information recorded in Khmer.
“You’re an antiques dealer?” Hong Hou smiled.
“May I see your treasures?” Zhou Luoyang asked.
“You may,” Hong Hou said graciously. “Chinese people are our friends. Please have a look around.”
Zhou Luoyang walked up to a katana and slid it an inch from its scabbard.
“Do you like it?” Hong Hou asked.
“Meiji period. Forged from tamahagane steel, otherwise known as sponge iron. Where did you get it from?”
Hong Hou smiled. “A wealthy Japanese man. He lost it to me in a bet.”
“Casinos are a profitable business,” Zhou Luoyang commented.
Hong Hou relaxed his fingers and said pensively, “Yes, a profitable business. But thanks to you Chinese people, it’s not so easy anymore.”
Zhou Luoyang returned the katana to its scabbard with a gentle click. “What will it take for you to let us go?”
“Let’s see how you fared in the selection. To be honest, you didn’t do a great job. But your performance in the very last second surprised me.”
He pressed a button on his desk. A projector lowered down behind him. The lights in the study turned off, and the projector began to play a recording of their experience in that escape room in Wan City, half a month ago.
Sometimes the camera lens zoomed out, sometimes it zoomed in. The camera’s distance varied from area to area. The recording lasted only a few moments, but it concisely portrayed his decisions and notable moments. Finally, it got to Zhou Luoyang standing at the altar, forced to choose someone to shoot. The high-resolution camera focused right on his face.
Zhou Luoyang: “…………”
“You caught my attention in the selection. Of course, so did your gay lover. Or perhaps sex partner is the more fitting term?”
Zhou Luoyang would never have thought that Hong Hou had kept tabs on his and Du Jing’s time in the escape room all along!
“You…” Zhou Luoyang’s voice shook. They had come to similar conclusions in the past, but with the answer to the riddle now made clear, he was still extremely shocked!
Hong Hou spread his hands, his lips pulling into a strange smile. “This year marks our fourth season. At first, I was worried that we wouldn’t have enough players. I did not expect you to deliver yourselves straight to my doorstep. Speaking of, please allow me to express my sincerest gratitude.”
He studied Zhou Luoyang intently. “With you and your partner, the fourth season will have six players in total. Thus, the fourth season can proceed as planned. Let’s draw up an agreement. How is that?”
Zhou Luoyang knew he must have a gun in his desk; he just didn’t know how likely it would be in the event that he ran to the katana and unsheathed it that he would be able to chop his hand off and take him hostage.
Hong Hou didn’t look like someone who couldn’t defend himself. Zhou Luoyang gave up on the idea.
“What agreement?” he asked grimly.
Hong Hou pressed another button. The projector switched to a promotional video with an English voiceover and Russian, Japanese, and Spanish subtitles. The camera provided a bird’s eye view of the grand Angkor Wat, accompanied by narration.
“Mystical Cambodian culture, the land where countless gods descended, ancient temples lost for millennia…”
It was the promotional video that Zhou Luoyang had seen playing outside of the escape room in Wan City. Six adventurers entered Angkor Wat and began exploring. They were surrounded by perils up until the moment they arrived at the altar.
“I propose that you and your partner officially participate in our fourth season,” Hong Hou said. “The rules are simple. They are nearly the same as those from the selection, except for one tiny difference.”
“Except for the fact that we would be in real danger and at risk of dying in the maze at any moment. That tiny difference,” Zhou Luoyang murmured.
“Indeed.” Hong Hou reclined in his large leather chair and propped his feet on top of the desk, revealing military boots polished to a shine. There was a knife tucked into the side of one boot. “The real arena is not something a simple escape room can compare to. Are you excited?”
Without waiting to hear Zhou Luoyang’s response, he continued, “You might get the chance to decide who lives or dies at the end again, but you’d best cherish the opportunity, unlike in the selection.”
“What will we get if we make it out alive?”
“One tenth of all stakes gambled,” Hong Hou said. “Nearly two point seven million USD as of right now, and this number continues to climb. Or you may select a piece from my collection and take it with you.”
Zhou Luoyang was not that stupid. He knew that even if he did win, these people would never allow him to walk away alive—otherwise, he would reveal their illicit, blood-drenched death game livestream, their hiding spot, and all the details of their crimes.
It was far more likely that when the game ended, he would be sold to whoever paid for him behind the scenes. And from behind the camera, they would order the game’s champion to be tortured to death.
“And if I refuse to participate?” Zhou Luoyang asked.
“You shouldn’t ask that question,” Hong Hou said, smiling.
Zhou Luoyang thought for a while. “I’ll need to convince my friend.”
“That won’t be necessary. He will definitely join, seeing as he’s an international police officer.” Hong Hou earnestly said, “This is the grandest event of the year. Judging by your performance in the preliminary selection, you two are the biggest dark horses of the fourth season. Don’t let me down.”
“Alright. But on one condition,” said Zhou Luoyang.
Hong Hou nodded at him to continue.
After a pensive moment, Zhou Luoyang said, “Return all of our belongings to us. I’m willing to take part in the competition with my companion.”
“How can that be allowed? You have a silencer pistol. I don’t know where you got it from, but that disrupts the balance of the game.”
“The original rules of the game dictate that I have a gun.”
Hong Hou considered this. Meanwhile, Zhou Luoyang continued, “You can keep our phones, though I suspect they must not work after that plane crash. Are you worried we’ll contact the outside world? We have a watch, a gun, and brass knuckles. Return those to us.”
Hong Hou slipped a cigarette from the desk. “Then we’ll need to revise the rules of the game. If you are allowed to bring things in with you, the others naturally should be, too.”
“That’s fair. You can even outfit the other competitors with extra equipment, such as bulletproof vests. I think that might make it more fun.”
“I suppose that might be a fresh way to play the game.”
Zhou Luoyang knew, of course, that Hong Hou wasn’t worried about them contacting the outside world. If the escape chamber was appropriately isolated from the outside, they would not be able to send signals from within it, even if they did have their phones.
They could not blatantly put on this murder show in the middle of Angkor Wat. The only thing that made sense was that they would recreate a space like Angkor Wat somewhere underground.
“I will discuss this with our designer,” Hong Hou allowed. “You may rest now. In three days, season four will begin. Until then, you must gather your strength. You must not be so nervous that you lose sleep.”
“I want to see—”
“You can’t see each other until the competition starts,” Hong Hou said. “This way.”
Zhou Luoyang knew that the only conceivable result of refusing Hong Hou was to be blindfolded, taken to an empty forest, and shot, and his body disposed of.
He didn’t make any other requests. He spun around and left. Naturally, there was an escort waiting for him, who led him to a guest room.
At the same time, Du Jing was brought into Hong Hou’s study, both hands tied in front of him.
“Please sit.”
Hong Hou was aware, of course, that Du Jing could not be classed with Zhou Luoyang in terms of strength.
“You seem to be injured quite severely,” Hong Hou observed. “Your arm is broken, and you have a bit of internal bleeding. Your soft tissue is bruised. If you rest properly over the next three days, you should be in decent enough shape to join the competition.”
Du Jing’s left hand was bandaged and in a splint. His face was covered in gauze and bandages.
“Nice place,” he said. “You know how to enjoy life.”
“Ah, clever,” said Hong Hou. “I love to do business with clever people most, especially clever Chinese people.”
He opened a drawer and pulled out two clear plastic bags. One of the bags contained Du Jing’s watch, a USB drive, and his brass knuckles.
The other contained Du Jing and Zhou Luoyang’s passports and introduction letters.
Hong Hou casually leafed through Du Jing’s passport, introduction letter, and other papers.
“Thanks to you,” he said mildly, “we finally caught the legendary Huang Ting. I have admired that senior of yours, that maestro of a player, for a long time. It’s a pity we weren’t destined to cross paths.”
Hong Hou finished reading through Du Jing’s files. He opened another clear plastic bag, fingers closing around the strap of the Eye of Forseti. He turned it over and over in his hands, studying it.
“Beautiful,” he breathed. “Such a rare watch. But I have seen an identical one before.”
“It was given to me as a token of love,” Du Jing said. “I hope you won’t do something you regret.”
“Oh? Did your gay lover give this to you?”
Without hesitation, Hong Hou tossed the watch at him. The shining face of the watch traced an arc through the air. Du Jing raised his hand and caught it firmly.
He slipped the watch on his wrist.
“For love,” Hong Hou said, “one can realize unprecedented potential.”
“That’s right.” Without looking at Hong Hou, Du Jing turned the watch’s outermost date ring. Then he looked up politely. “Now let’s discuss terms. What do you want?”
Hong Hou slid Du Jing’s brass knuckles on experimentally, flexing his fingers into a fist several times. Then he tossed that to Du Jing, too.
“Don’t use it in my space,” Hong Hou warned. He took out a third plastic bag. This one contained Sup’s lipstick gun. He pointed it at himself, and Du Jing kindly reminded, “Be careful it doesn’t accidentally go off.”
“Oh,” Hong Hou said solemnly. He didn’t toss the lipstick gun over. But Du Jing had already gotten his most important belonging back: the Eye of Forseti. Everything else he would wait patiently for.
There were metal bars installed over the guest room window. The room was entirely made of anti-flammable material. The door was locked from the outside. There were cameras mounted in all four corners of the ceiling, even in the bathroom. But aside from that, the room was indiscernible from a luxury hotel suite.
The closet contained several sets of clothing, one of which looked odd. Zhou Luoyang remembered where he’d seen it before—it was the costume of one of the characters from the escape room. It seemed they wanted him to play this character, then.
Zhou Luoyang picked up the digital clock at the head of the bed. It was 7:50 PM.
They had requested that Du Jing participate in the competition alongside him. This meant that Du Jing’s safety was at least guaranteed for the next three days.
Zhou Luoyang’s entire body still ached. He lay down on the bed and breathed and breathed. Soon, an attendant brought a dinner of local Cambodian dishes, as well as a menu, which meant he was free to request whatever dishes he liked.
Zhou Luoyang checked off a few menu items. After hastily finishing dinner, he flipped through the travel magazines in the room. Most highlighted Phnom Penh’s attractions. He glanced at the cameras in the four corners of the room, knowing that he was now being closely watched 24 hours of the day.
This was an escape game of a different sense. Zhou Luoyang thought to himself, I need to figure out a way to get the Eye of Forseti back.
11:59:58.
11:59:59.
The instant each digit arrived at zero, Zhou Luoyang suddenly found himself back inside the helicopter!
He could hear Du Jing’s calm voice right by his ear. “Huang Ting, get out of there. We’ve been made.”
Then came the sound of a missile being launched. Zhou Luoyang quickly leaned over, and he and Du Jing hugged each other tightly.
The missile struck the cockpit of the helicopter, accompanied by a deafening explosion. Everything spun. Dizzy, Zhou Luoyang quickly cupped his hand over the back of Du Jing’s head.
“This is such a terrible temporal node,” Du Jing said.
“I made them keep all of our belongings!” Zhou Luoyang shouted as they plummeted down.
“You did a great job. They gave them back to me. Commencing forced landing.” It was impressive that Du Jing still had it in him to joke around at a time like this. “Three, two, one. Parachute malfunction. Best of luck.”
Du Jing braced Zhou Luoyang’s forehead against his chest and held him tenderly in his arms. When he looked up, his eyes reflected the luminous river of stars that painted the sky even as the helicopter broke into pieces.
With a great crash, they met the ground. The helicopter crumbled to pieces, and they were flung out.
Translated by beansprout. Edited by opal.
beansprout translates 
Thanks for the chapter!
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