Chapter Eight: How Did You Clear the Level?

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Fang Nian and the Fatty had won their bet, feasting and drinking at the lakeside, while Xia Moyu sat by with a miserable expression, waiting to pay the bill. Xu Zhuo had finally finished his busy day at the hunting grounds, rushing over just as the place was about to close. The moment he entered, his eyes fell on Xia Moyu, who sat in a dark corner, his face lined with distress.

“What happened? You look like you’ve eaten something foul.”

Seeing Xu Zhuo, Xia Moyu wore a woeful expression and recounted the events that had just transpired. But instead of comforting him, Xu Zhuo burst out laughing, turning his gaze toward Fang Nian and the Fatty.

“I must say, you’re really quite gullible. Such a little trick of shifting concepts fooled you so easily…”

Xu Zhuo paused, noticing that he didn’t recognize Fang Nian, but the Fatty’s broad back seemed oddly familiar. His heart skipped a beat, and he hurried over. Seeing the Fatty’s face, he exclaimed in delight.

“Fat Lord, it’s really you!”

The Fatty was enjoying his drink, and upon looking up, saw that it was Xu Zhuo.

“Oh, it’s you.”

“Yes, Fat Lord, you’re not being very considerate, leaving without so much as a word. I was hoping to consult you about matters in the hunting grounds.”

As he spoke, Xu Zhuo turned his attention to Fang Nian.

“Fat Lord, is this your friend, the mysterious Number 251?”

The Fatty, a seasoned veteran, instantly understood the young man’s intentions.

“Yes, Number 251. Enough gawking, sit down.”

“All right.”

Xu Zhuo sat down excitedly, waving for Xia Moyu to join them, and proceeded to recount the affairs of Xu’s Hunting Ground.

“Ah, Brother Fang, Fat Lord, I was blind and ignorant just now. Please forgive me—I’ll punish myself with three drinks.”

With that, he downed three glasses of beer in succession.

In truth, Fang Nian rather liked Xia Moyu. Though a bit rash, he was bold and willing to take responsibility, far better than petty schemers. Naturally, he wouldn’t bear a grudge.

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As the rounds of drinks passed and the dishes dwindled, Xu Zhuo could no longer contain his curiosity and finally asked,

“Brother Fang, I’m dying to know—could you tell us how you cleared ‘Buried Alive’? From outside, we saw you already covered by soil.”

Fang Nian smiled, picked up two rubber bands used for binding vegetables, and performed a magic trick reminiscent of Liu Qian’s famous act from that year’s Spring Festival Gala. Then, he said calmly,

“You see, sometimes your eyes aren’t reliable; what you see isn’t always what’s real. I have to admit, the designer of this ‘Buried Alive’ theme was clever. The hunting ground seemed to start at 11:00 a.m., but in truth, the moment we stepped into Xu’s Hunting Ground, the battle had already begun.”

“I wonder if you recall—in the main hall of Xu’s Hunting Ground, there was a piece of soothing instrumental music played on repeat.”

Hearing this, Xu Zhuo thought back and nodded quickly.

“That piece is called ‘Chopin of Fear’, one of the top entries in the ‘Hundred Forbidden Songs’. It sounds gentle, nothing remarkable at first, but after hours of looping, you’ll find it exerts a powerful psychological suggestion.”

“This kind of psychological suggestion doesn’t affect people in everyday circumstances, but when the seed meets fertilizer—namely, fear—it grows rampant. And fear is the fertilizer; when you truly feel afraid in the hunting ground, that’s when it sprouts. So, before you even enter the hunting ground proper, your mental defenses have already begun to crumble.”

Xu Zhuo and Xia Moyu, both well-read, understood Fang Nian’s point. The ‘Hundred Forbidden Songs’… Just hearing Fang Nian explain it made their palms sweat; how much worse for those who listened for hours?

“Of course, that song is just a minor detail in the construction of the hunting ground; the real mastery lies in the hunting ground itself.”

“The details of the hunting ground are superb, its core is psychological suggestion. Before entering, the large screen plays a terrifying promotional video, the environment is dark and sealed, the notion that surviving five hours is your only hope, and there’s a room from which escape seems impossible.”

“All this implies that only by resisting supernatural fears for five hours can you clear the challenge. With such preconceived notions, the hunters naturally won’t consider alternatives—they’ll obediently wait for fear to strike. If you do that, you’ve already lost.”

“When psychological suggestion reaches its peak, fear takes root and grows. The coffin’s air is scarce to begin with; after breathing inside for two hours, it’s even thinner.”

“The brain’s resistance is weakest when oxygen-deprived. Under intense psychological suggestion, that’s the perfect moment for attack; the designer won’t miss this chance.”

Xu Zhuo looked exhilarated, as if a revelation had dawned.

“So, Brother Nian, you’re saying the desert army ants’ attack wasn’t real, but… a hallucination?”

Fang Nian smiled knowingly.

“You’re teachable. Exactly, it was an illusion. The pathway for transmitting hallucinations to the brain was ‘Chopin of Fear’. I remember hearing its familiar melody faintly at the time. In this kind of hunting ground, hallucinations are vivid and terrifying. It’s extremely difficult to maintain a calm mind in the midst of such illusions.”

“Thus, under the influence of hallucinations, people start to struggle and shout desperately. This vigorous activity rapidly depletes the coffin’s air, and soon one suffocates, ultimately breaking down under endless hallucinations.”

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Having attentively listened to Fang Nian’s explanation, Xu Zhuo and Xia Moyu were drenched in sweat. They hadn’t realized how many hidden dangers lurked within the hunting ground, traps everywhere—a true life-and-death duel between designer and hunter.

For a moment, their admiration for Fang Nian surged like a river, endless and boundless.

“Brother Nian, how did you resist it?”

Fang Nian smiled faintly, taking a sip of wine.

“Haha, my passing was pure luck. When I was young, I spent two years as a monk in Shaolin Temple, reciting scriptures day and night. When the hallucinations hit me, I just kept silently chanting ‘Amitabha,’ and thus turned danger into safety. Once I broke through the hallucinations, the hunting ground had no reason to continue, so they automatically declared me cleared.”

Of course, Fang Nian wouldn’t reveal the truth about the Clear Mind Technique, so he made up an excuse. But one had to admire these two young men’s intelligence—they believed him completely.

…

After parting ways with the others, Fang Nian and the Fatty found a hotel to stay the night. The Fatty, exhausted from days of toil and excessive drinking, fell asleep the moment his head hit the pillow.

Fang Nian, however, felt no trace of sleepiness—he was about to claim his reward.

He opened the system menu and checked the Hell Difficulty taskbar directly.

Hell Difficulty: Successfully clear a solo F-grade or higher themed hunting ground within 24 hours and earn an A-grade or higher evaluation. (Completed)

He clicked to collect the reward without hesitation.

“Congratulations, you have obtained the skill ‘Yi Jin Jing: Qi Transformation Chapter’, body level advanced, five senses advanced, new hunter profession unlocked (details available in the menu).”

“Yi Jin Jing? Damn, is this for real?”

Fang Nian was stunned with excitement. He felt his body indeed changing—a formless power coursing through him. The Fatty’s snores beside him sounded even louder, and even in the deep darkness of night, Fang Nian’s eyes could detect faint traces of light.