In front of the row of houses was an open space, and beyond that was the fence. As far as Zhang Chenyan could see, there were no other buildings, just a winding road leading to an unknown destination. Compared to the last place he entered, this area was incredibly barren. The incandescent light hanging from the eaves provided limited illumination, barely lighting up a small area, unable to dispel the surrounding darkness.
Zhang Chenyan looked up: no sky, no stars, no moonlight... He was now certain that this time, the virtual world he had entered was modeled after the underground city.
If it weren't for knowing about the barrier and remembering all his experiences entering this place, Zhang Chenyan might have thought this was just another part of the underground city that he had never visited.
He glanced at the clock on the wall. It was now 9:20 PM, and he had been here for less than two hours.
In those short two hours, he had already found some clues, but trying to fully understand what was happening felt a bit too hasty.
Zhang Chenyan looked around. To his right were the dormitories where the children had just gone, behind him was the classroom he had come from, labeled "Classroom 1," and to the left were "Classroom 2," "Classroom 3," "Cafeteria," "Administrator's Rest Room," "Discipline Room," and finally, a "Spare Room."
He walked down the row, observing through the windows. To his surprise, aside from Classroom 1, which looked a bit shabby with only desks, chairs, benches, and a blackboard, the other two classrooms were quite decent. Classroom 2 had various musical instruments, and Classroom 3 had all kinds of sports equipment. The cafeteria, while not luxurious, was at least clean and tidy.
When he first arrived, Zhang Chenyan almost thought this place was a refugee camp, but now it seemed that wasn't the case. The conditions here weren't particularly good, but they weren't bad either.
Zhang Chenyan recalled his own school days. Although the school buildings were much better than this, the interiors weren't much different. What's more, back then, he had to share these resources with over a hundred other students, while here, there were only about twenty kids. In that sense, they were even better off.
But the man who brought him here had mentioned that the children were always trying to escape.
Why would they want to escape? Were they simply tired of school?
Zhang Chenyan shook his head, unable to understand.
The door to the Administrator's Rest Room was open, so Zhang Chenyan walked in. The setup was simple, just a regular room where everything was in plain sight.
Although it was small, it had all the essentials. The living necessities were meticulously prepared, and while the bathroom was somewhat cramped, Zhang Chenyan was generally satisfied with the rest of the place.
Behind the door was a coat rack with a set of keys hanging on it, likely for unlocking the different rooms.
In addition, the wall displayed a list of rules for administrators:
Your working hours are from 8:13 AM to 9:07 PM.
Ensure the students' health and learning quality. If any students misbehave, send them to the Discipline Room.
No student may be sent to the Discipline Room more than three times in one day, or it will result in death.
No student is allowed to die.
If the number of students changes, ignore it.
These five simple rules were easy to understand, but Zhang Chenyan couldn't connect them all logically on a single page.
For some reason, he even felt like these rules were incomplete, as if they lacked explanations or additional guidelines to tie them together.
But there were already so many oddities about this place. As the saying goes, when it rains, it pours. Zhang Chenyan couldn't fully understand the barrier, nor could he figure out its intentions in a short time. Holding the keys, he continued outside, planning to check out the Discipline Room. Earlier, Zhao Muyang had mentioned "punishment," and while Zhang Chenyan initially thought Zhao Muyang was worried about getting beaten, it now seemed more likely that what he feared was this place called the "Discipline Room."
Standing at the door of the Discipline Room, Zhang Chenyan looked at the keys in his hand. Fortunately, the barrier hadn't turned this into a riddle—each key was labeled with the room it corresponded to.
He found the key to the Discipline Room and inserted it into the lock. As he turned the key, he couldn't help but wonder why such an old-fashioned key was being used. But on second thought, if the place had used something like fingerprint recognition, with the frequent turnover of administrators and the number of rooms, every new administrator would have to go through the registration process. In that sense, using old-fashioned keys was actually more convenient.
With a "click," the door to the Discipline Room opened. Before entering, Zhang Chenyan had imagined many horrific scenes, like walls covered with terrifying instruments, bloodstained shackles, and even dismembered limbs. But to his surprise, the room contained nothing but three metal chairs connected to various wires.
No bloodstains, no torture devices, no dismembered limbs... Aside from the ever-present cold and dampness of the underground city, the room was practically spotless. Even the three metal chairs were neatly aligned, as if arranged by someone with OCD.
Zhang Chenyan was puzzled. He stepped outside to double-check that this was indeed the Discipline Room.
Was this for time-out? He'd heard of being punished by having to stand, but not by having to sit. Was the metal too cold, making it uncomfortable?
His thoughts seemed absurd, but he couldn't come up with a better explanation at the moment.
Just as Zhang Chenyan was about to leave, a clear and familiar image flashed in his mind. He remembered the testing room at Telsa Corporation, where he had first entered "Paradise." The chair he had sat in was exactly like these.
Zhang Chenyan suddenly understood the purpose of the Discipline Room. He realized how these chairs were used. Recalling his own harrowing experience, he thought this method of torture was disgustingly high-tech.
At that moment, the warning from the previous administrator echoed in his mind: "If any students misbehave, just beat them, but don't hit their faces, and avoid leaving marks where their clothes don't cover."
It was clear that this place was very concerned about exposing any physical injuries on the students. Using these chairs to discipline them would leave no external wounds.
Zhang Chenyan then remembered the third rule in the administrator's guidelines: "No student may be sent to the Discipline Room more than three times in one day, or it will result in death." He found this rule absurd. Having personally experienced such a chair in "Paradise," he wondered how these students could possibly endure it three times.
In Zhang Chenyan's view, these were just kids with limited psychological resilience. Even as an adult, he had barely held on.
Of course, at first, Zhang Chenyan hadn't known what would happen if he didn't hold on. Now he understood that death was never far away. Based on the experience of the others who had entered with him last time, he knew that in this virtual world created by the barrier, death likely meant just that—death, with no transitional phase.
Zhang Chenyan sighed, left the Discipline Room, and locked the door behind him. If possible, he hoped never to have to open that door again.
Lastly, he headed to the Spare Room, with no particular curiosity. Since it was labeled as a spare, it was probably either empty or used for storage.
The only reason Zhang Chenyan checked it was because of his compulsion to see things through. Since he had already looked at the other rooms, it didn't feel right to skip this one. But to his surprise, this ordinary-looking room was anything but.
As soon as he opened the door, he noticed the difference. The walls were pristine, free of any damp spots, and although the furniture was similar to that in the Administrator's Rest Room, the quality here was on a completely different level. The furnishings in Zhang Chenyan's room could be called functional, while here, they could be described as works of art.
Every item was both practical and exquisite.
Even in the real underground city, Zhang Chenyan, given his status, would never have access to such things.
Making something practical isn't difficult, and making something exquisite is possible too. But creating something both practical and exquisite is rare in the underground city, where few people are willing to invest their energy in such things. In this environment, there are more important and meaningful tasks to focus on.
And this room was called a "Spare Room"?
Zhang Chenyan was increasingly baffled by the naming conventions here. Looking back at his own Administrator's Rest Room, he even considered moving into this one. Although it was part of a virtual world created by the barrier, the human pursuit of a better life doesn't change regardless of the location.
To make matters worse, Zhang Chenyan discovered that the bathroom in the Spare Room was incredibly spacious, even featuring a bathtub and a design that separated wet and dry areas.
So luxurious? Zhang Chenyan was more puzzled than ever.
Compared to his nearly twenty years of life, this seemed less like living and more like surviving.
In the end, Zhang Chenyan had to muster all his willpower to leave the room. Throughout the process, he kept reminding himself, "You don't know enough about this place yet. Don't casually break the rules—there might be consequences you can't handle..."
Back in the Administrator's Rest Room, Zhang Chenyan finally calmed down.
He carefully considered the first rule on the wall: Your working hours are from 8:13 AM to 9:07 PM.
Over the years, he had gone to school and held jobs, but typically, such schedules were rounded to whole or half hours, like 8:00 or 8:30, 9:00 or 9:30. These specific times, 8:13 and 9:07, felt oddly unsettling to Zhang Chenyan, especially since they didn't match up. If it were 8:13 to 9:13, it wouldn't feel so strange.
There were clocks in almost every room, and Zhang Chenyan noticed it was now 9:50 PM. He couldn't figure out the significance of this 9:07 cutoff. If it meant he couldn't go out or leave the Administrator's Rest Room, at least today he had already violated that rule without any apparent consequences.
Zhang Chenyan sat at the desk, idly rummaging through all the drawers and cabinets, hoping to find some clues.
One drawer contained a diary with a pen attached. However, when Zhang Chenyan opened it, he found the pages blank—it was clearly a new diary, likely prepared specifically for him.
Once again, Zhang Chenyan stood in front of the wall with the administrator's guidelines. He reached out to touch the text. The moment his hand made contact, the letters seemed to light up briefly, and then a number appeared at the end of the first line, changing before his eyes from a "2" to a "1."
Instinct told Zhang Chenyan that this was a countdown. Although traditionally, people might count in threes, like granting three wishes or giving three chances, this place had already set unusual work hours, so Zhang Chenyan had every reason to believe they would only give him two chances.
Great. He had just used up one of those chances.
That meant he had only one chance left to break the rules.
Zhang Chenyan felt a bit frustrated. The previous administrator should have informed him. If he had known, he wouldn't have wandered around, wasting one of his chances. Even though he didn't yet understand the significance and consequences of these chances, Zhang Chenyan was a cautious person. He would have preferred to save such opportunities for something more meaningful rather than waste them inadvertently.
Were they taking advantage of the fact that he was mute? There was nothing he could do now but accept it and make sure to treasure the next opportunity.
To be safe, Zhang Chenyan touched every line of the administrator's guidelines, but this time, no new numbers appeared—only the glaring "1" remained.
Two chances? And no notifications—you had to discover them yourself... Zhang Chenyan made a mental note of this. All he could do now was continue gathering potentially useful information, sorting it, and determining what could be used, what could be deduced, and what needed to be discarded as distractions.