The Room of Imprisonment...
At present, most of the promotional posters were concentrated around this sealed door. The Room of Imprisonment, a film that began its promotional campaign less than two weeks before its release, had very few posters, and its synopsis was strikingly simple.
One thing was certain... the basement, where the imprisonment took place, was not as ordinary as it appeared. Yet, despite the sparse publicity and the current script, no leads could be found.
"Actually... there's probably no need to think too much about it, right?" Liu Ying rested her chin in her hand. "Hmm, anyway... as long as we cook the meals properly and make it through these three days... I think everything will be fine."
Hank, however, shook his head and said, "It won't be that simple. There's definitely something major behind this. But I can't quite figure it out. And... after three days, will we really be able to leave? I'm doubtful about that."
The short man, Wu Jun, hurriedly said, "No, no way! We have no conflict with the master, there's no reason for this, right?"
"Anyway, it's certainly not simple. Anyone could cook three meals, but they hired us—this specific group of people—and paid such a high salary. Let me share my theory. You can listen and judge for yourselves."
Hank cleared his throat, looked around at everyone, and then began speaking in a calm, measured tone: "They've locked us in, preventing us from contacting the outside world, and paid us handsomely to cook for three days. I thought about it all night, and my conclusion is this—our presence here is part of an 'experiment.'"
"W-what did you say?"
"An experiment?"
"What does that even mean?"
Hank continued, his voice unwavering: "The recruitment conditions only limited the age, and didn't specify anything else, meaning anyone could be hired. The lock on the door downstairs could easily contain a person—or even a wild animal. So, our purpose is not to guard or to feed. The three meals could have easily been prepared in advance and placed in the basement. I checked, and there are many ceramic jars in the basement, and some food has been preserved with salt, so meals could have been pre-prepared. Therefore, our role in 'feeding' is redundant."
"But... not only did they hire us, they also limited the number to seven people, offered such high wages, and even prepaid us. It's almost as if... they were afraid no one would come. So, after much thought, I've concluded that our presence here has one primary purpose—'experiment.' And locking us in here is to prevent us from escaping. This means... something is bound to happen within these three days."
A look of fear spread across everyone's faces, and they were at a loss for words.
"Yes," Hank continued, his voice steady, "something so easily done could have been handled by anyone, yet they paid us a premium. The only explanation I can think of is 'experiment.' They've locked us in here to observe what happens after three days. This experiment is crucial to them. That A4 sheet repeatedly forbids us from interacting with the 'person' locked in the basement, and stresses that the 'person' must not be released. Therefore, the experiment is surely related to this."
"What kind of experiment could it be?" Allen, clasping his hands together to support his chin, asked. "Just calling it an experiment feels too... vague."
At that moment, Zhao Xiaoya, who had been relatively silent, suddenly spoke up, "We can't jump to conclusions just yet. I believe there might be other possibilities."
"Perhaps there is, but the information I possess is still far too insufficient," Hank did not refute Zhao Xiaoya's words. "In any case, over the next three days, everyone should stay vigilant. Just follow the instructions on that piece of paper. And I say this, not to alarm you, but to ensure we all remain cautious."
Liu Ying immediately smiled cheerfully, saying, "Right... right... exactly. What experiment? You're making it sound so dramatic..."
Seeing her bright smile, Allen couldn't help but admire the girl's resilience. It was rare for anyone to adapt to the role so swiftly.
Ding—
The sharp, crisp sound from the kitchen captured everyone's attention. They quickly made their way inside.
Upon opening the food elevator, they were met with the sight of empty plates and dishes, all clean and spotless. But the phone... was gone.
At this, Hank showed no surprise. This had all been foreseen.
The dishes were completely cleaned, down to the last morsel.
After retrieving the dishes, Ivan and Wu Jun took charge of washing them.
"Well, someone was really hungry," Ivan murmured as he examined the plates. "Not a scrap left."
Once the dishes were washed and put away, Ivan walked into the living room and casually announced, "I'm going upstairs to rest for a while. I'll come down to prepare lunch later."
This statement caused several startled looks to be exchanged.
"Hank, Hank Qingshu... you..." Hank pointed at him, "You're going upstairs to rest?"
It was no wonder that Hank was shocked.
According to the script of the second act, after washing the dishes, Wu Jun's character was supposed to say he was going upstairs to rest. Later, when he didn't come down, the group went upstairs to find him. Inside his room, they discovered his mangled corpse!
The description of Wu Jun's death in the script was horrifically graphic: his neck completely snapped, his head hanging limply, barely attached by a small strip of skin.
Naturally, the actor playing Wu Jun would never dare to go upstairs. Everyone had planned to remain downstairs during this time. But Ivan, on the other hand, was willingly heading upstairs!
Hank immediately understood his reasoning.
Ivan, it seemed, had that reckless courage of a young bull, unafraid of tigers. He had long admired Julian and had wanted to emulate him. He knew that the only way to earn the redemption tokens was by taking risks, by willingly engaging in dangerous situations. How many tokens one had was the greatest factor in surviving a horror film.
Bolstered by his cursed object and a growing sense of invincibility after surviving several horror scenarios, Ivan had decided to take the plunge! Clearly, he had full confidence in his own survival, and such an action would certainly result in a significant increase in redemption tokens!
Allen knew, without question, that he would never dare to take such a risk.
Hank wanted to dissuade him, but as Liu Haiping, what could he say? Ivan didn't say another word and made his way toward the stairs.
As Ivan ascended, he recalled the countless heroic acts of Julian and suppressed his growing fear. Lately, his redemption tokens had been stagnant, neither here nor there. At this rate, with only the cursed object at his disposal, it would eventually become useless. Rather than waiting for that inevitable moment, he decided to take matters into his own hands. Wealth and glory lay in risk, and if his redemption tokens could no longer support the cursed object, he would be as good as dead.
If Julian could do it, why not him?
Upon reaching the second floor, he walked toward Wu Jun's room, muttering to himself, "Well, nothing to worry about. It's just someone else's room, after all."
The building had no windows or ventilation, and the sunlight never touched the interior. Thus, the line between night and day was indistinguishable. As Ivan walked down the dim, narrow corridor, his heart pounded faster with each step.
He walked forward, turned a corner, and arrived at... Wu Jun's room.
At this moment, Hank was filled with an anxious restlessness, uncertain whether he should go upstairs and check. After all, the other man was his companion. But tomorrow marked the premiere of Ghost Festival 3, and he was supposed to lend his cursed object to Julian. What if something happened to him here?
As Hank wrestled with his internal conflict, Ivan, having passed through the hallway, began to slow his pace. At the same time, his hands slipped into his pockets.
The cursed object he carried was a high heel.
In the past, while working on the horror film Blood-Red Heels, Ivan had been fortunate enough to acquire a crucial cursed object—the red high heel. The owner of the shoe had been brutally murdered before her death, leaving behind a curse that would kill anyone who came into contact with or wore the shoe.
Of course, he only had one shoe, but that was more than enough. He had intentionally chosen a pair of pants with deep pockets, sufficient to conceal the high heel. Now, his hand gripped it tightly in his pocket, ready to pull it out at the slightest sign of trouble.
His pace continued to slow, and a wave of fear began to wash over him. Was he being too reckless?
He kept glancing over his shoulder, and soon his legs began to tremble uncontrollably.
The high heel, if used for less than ten seconds, would require a deduction of redemption tokens equal to the actor's pay. If used for more than ten seconds, the deduction would be twice the pay. Of course, Wu Jun need not worry, even if his redemption tokens went negative—so long as the deficit did not exceed five hundred tokens, he could still overdraw and use the object, provided the debt was paid off before the film's conclusion. But if the overdraft surpassed five hundred tokens (excluding the five hundred), then the cursed object could no longer be used. Even if it was taken out in front of the camera, the curse would not be lifted, and the high heel would simply be an ordinary shoe.
However, if Ivan survived, the redemption tokens he would earn would far exceed the cost.
At last, he arrived at the door of Wu Jun's room.
He reassured himself: It would be fine. Blood-Red Heels had been a more difficult film than The Imprisoned Room, and the curse of that high heel was likely far worse than any ghost here. Besides, every time he had used it in the past, he had managed to escape danger, even though the price in redemption tokens had been steep...
At present, thirty redemption tokens had already been deducted from him. But Ivan didn't mind; he was mentally prepared for this.
Taking a deep breath, he opened the door with his left hand, while his right hand remained firmly clutching the high heel in his pocket, ready to draw it at a moment's notice!
The door opened.
Inside... the room was empty.
The bed had not been made. The lights were off, leaving the room in a shadowy gloom... No, not just the room, the entire hallway seemed dark, as there were no lights in the corridor either.
He entered the room, walked to the bed, adjusted his collar, and continued speaking his improvised lines: "Sigh... he didn't even bother to make the bed. Wu Jun is really lazy. But this room's not bad at all, hehe."
Leaning against the wall, he cast a wary gaze around the room, especially toward the door.
Come on...
He silently repeated in his mind—whatever ghost or vengeful spirit you are, let's see how I deal with you!
Yet his ever-widening pupils and the uncontrollable trembling gave him away, revealing the fear lurking beneath his calm exterior.