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墨書 Inktalez
Zhong Kui's Diary
Escape Room?
"What do you mean by that?" I asked Fatty in surprise.
"Escape room? Uh, it's a room filled with various clues, like keys and pliers, and then you follow these clues to find the exit!" Fatty replied quickly.
"I wasn't asking about that; I was asking what Underworld means by doing this?" I couldn't help but laugh and cry at the same time. Do I really need you to explain escape rooms? I often play that web game when I'm bored.
"How would I know!" Fatty sighed with a bitter smile. "These people are crazy!"
Right now, only Fatty's words could describe Underworld. Seriously, these people are definitely insane. Why would they capture us to play some escape room game? Is it really that amusing?
Fine, if we're playing, Fatty and I started rummaging through everything. Don't expect us to be gentle while searching. In fact, our actions could be described as rough; we completely disregarded the value of the items. The mattress on the bed was flipped over, the pillows were torn apart, vases were thrown to the ground and shattered, and the cabinet was turned upside down. In short, we searched every possible place where something could be hidden.
After a round of searching, we gathered everything we found and placed it on the Coffee Table in the living room to take stock: four AA Batteries, one Hammer, one USB drive, one key, and a television remote control.
I picked up the key and asked Fatty: "Could this key be the exit key?"
"Have you ever played an escape room? It’s never that simple. Besides, this room has no doors or windows; you can't even find a Keyhole for that key. Hmm, this hammer is quite handy," Fatty said as he picked up the Hammer, waved it around, and started tapping on the walls to see if there were any hollow spots.
Okay, I guess I was thinking too simply. I put down the key and picked up a battery to examine it: "Oh look, it's still from Nanfu, national pride!"
"Come on, our national pride has already been acquired by its competitor Gillette. If you let the Chinese Women's National Football Team shout about national pride again, they'll be ridiculed by our own people!" Upon hearing this, Fatty couldn't help but stop what he was doing and argued with me with wide eyes.
"Why are you so upset?" I asked in surprise.
"Damn, such a good National Brand, what Dabao, Chinese Toothpaste, Nanfu Battery, all ruined by some people with ulterior motives, either for their own achievements or for their own interests. In short, they put on the guise of attracting investment and forcefully inject foreign capital into companies that originally did not need financing. Once foreign capital has shares, they immediately go public to trade shares, and in the end, competitors buy up all the shares. Those bastards are selling out the country; these people should be shot! No, they should be put in a pig cage and machine-gunned!" Fatty was getting more and more agitated.
I remained silent. Although Fatty was somewhat extreme, it was an undeniable fact that our national brands were being acquired one by one by foreign competitors.
After a while, I sighed and changed the subject: "Alright, complaints aside, where should this battery go? The remote control?" I casually opened the back cover of the remote control, which already had two AA Batteries inside.
Clearly, these four batteries were not meant for this.
What else could use these batteries? I glanced at Fatty, who continued to hammer the wall while smiling and said, "AA Batteries, the biggest use is in Adult Toys and Massage Sticks."
"Those are adult products. Do you think there would be such things in a Model Room?" At this point, I couldn't help but pause. Right, Massage Sticks are adult toys, but isn't there also a children's room in this house? There are several toys in the children's room.
I picked up the four batteries and walked to the children's room, where I found two toys that needed batteries: one was a large Truck, and the other was a Submachine Gun.
Seeing the Submachine Gun, I suddenly remembered something and loudly asked Fatty: "Did you see my gun when you saw me?"
"No, when I woke up you were lying next to me; I didn't see any handgun." Fatty answered loudly while hammering in the master bedroom.
It seems that Wang Chuan took my gun away; after all, having a gun would pose a threat to them. It would be strange if they didn't take it. But that's not important right now; I need to focus on what's in front of me.
I sat on the bed and opened the battery compartment of the Truck. Sure enough, there were four empty slots for batteries. I inserted the batteries, flipped the switch, and immediately various songs played from the Truck, including children's songs like "A group of ducks passed by under the big tree by the river" and "You take one picture, I'll take one picture; two friends fly kites."
There were a total of ten children's songs. Patiently listening to each one until it repeated again, I realized there were no clues left in this Truck. As for the Submachine Gun, I had already tossed it aside; it required six batteries, and clearly, four batteries weren't enough.
Finally, Fatty finished hammering every room and sat down next to me, asking if I had found anything.
I pointed at the Truck, "After installing the batteries, there are only ten children's songs inside! I've listened to them all, and there's no clue."
"Could the clue be hidden inside the Truck?" Fatty picked up the Truck, weighed it in his hands, then shook it vigorously by his ear, as if trying to listen for something unusual.
"What are you trying to do?" I looked at him in confusion.
"Since it's useless, why keep it?" Fatty hurled the Truck against the wall. "There might be something hidden inside!"
With a crack, the entire Truck shattered into pieces from Fatty's throw, and the batteries rolled out and fell to the ground. One of them rolled under the bed.
I was about to scold him but then thought about it; Fatty wasn't wrong. If it was useless, why keep it? Looking at the toy Truck's fragments on the floor and the battery still rolling, I said, "What exactly is this battery useful for?"
Fatty stood up and bent down to pick up three of the batteries. He left the one under the bed because he was too lazy to bend down. "I won't bother with that one under the bed. If you really want four, there are two batteries in the remote outside. I'll get one..."
Hearing this, I was struck with inspiration and raised my hand to interrupt Fatty. "Right! There are still two batteries in the remote outside. Fatty, you find that battery under the bed."
Before Fatty could respond, I dashed to the living room, took out the batteries from the remote, and returned to the room. Seeing that Fatty was still staring blankly at me, I didn't bother explaining. I crawled under the bed and pulled out that battery. With the three batteries in Fatty's hands, all six battery slots in the Submachine Gun were filled.
I pulled the trigger, and a series of gunfire sounds erupted from the Submachine Gun. Picking up the gun and looking around, I noticed there was a button on the side. When I pressed it, different cannon sounds came from within the Submachine Gun.
Rat-tat-tat!
Bang-bang-bang!
Pia pia pia!
Biu biu biu!
...
The sound of gunfire echoed in the Submachine Gun, seemingly without any abnormalities. Well, not entirely; amidst the gunfire, a person's hoarse voice shouted, "Hit me! Come on, hit me!"
Such a shameless request caught me off guard. I exchanged glances with Fatty and Noodles, continuing to press the buttons. The gunfire had only a few variations, and eventually, we left the switch on that voice.
"Hit me! Come on, hit me..." The Submachine Gun repeatedly echoed this phrase.
Hearing it made my anger flare up. I grabbed the Submachine Gun and slammed it against the wall. "You want to be hit? You want to be hit? I'll beat you to death!"
With a crack, the plastic Submachine Gun shattered into several pieces, fragments flying everywhere. I tilted my head to dodge a larger piece and just caught sight of a note fluttering down from mid-air.
I reached out and grabbed the note, unfolding it to reveal four numbers: "507."
What does 507 mean? I called Fatty over to take a look. He took the paper and read aloud, "507, I love you, wife! Ah, how vulgar can this person be?"
Motherfucker, is there anyone more vulgar than you? I couldn't help but snatch the note back from him, examining it carefully from all angles but finding no other markings.
Clearly, these four digits were part of a code. The problem was that there was no place in this room for entering a password. Moreover, Fatty had just used the Hammer to thoroughly check the walls without discovering anything suspicious. This meant that there were no secret rooms or hidden passages in this space.
After discussing for a while, both of us felt our anger rising and our frustration boiling over. We grabbed the toys in the room and began smashing them wildly. Yet among the scattered toy fragments, we found nothing else of interest.
"How about we smash everything in the other rooms too?" Fatty seemed to be getting into it and picked up the Hammer, ready to head outside.
I had just released a lot of pent-up aggression from my earlier outburst, and now I was feeling quite calm. I quickly stopped Fatty, saying, "Forget it, there might be other clues."
Fatty nodded sullenly, "Alright, let's not break anything for now!"
The two of us returned to the living room and looked at the items on the Coffee Table, our eyes lingering on the USB drive. I had already used four batteries, but I had no idea what the USB drive was for. There was no computer in the study and no USB port for output; what was the point of the USB drive?
"By the way, modern TVs support USB functionality. Let's give it a try," Fatty suddenly exclaimed, slapping his forehead.
"Are you sure?" To be honest, I had never plugged a USB drive into a TV before.
"Absolutely! The guy downstairs uses a USB drive to copy Adult Films and watches them on his TV. The screen is huge—much more enjoyable than a computer..." Fatty said excitedly.
"Is there anything else in your life besides this? I think An Ran should squeeze you for every last drop!" I joked.
"Even if she squeezed me a hundred times, I'd still want to keep some blood for Health Treatment!"
Amidst our laughter, we turned on the TV and plugged in the USB drive. Fatty ran back to the children's room to grab two batteries for the remote control. After fiddling with it for a while, a solid green background appeared on the screen, with four yellow squares in the center. Clearly, it was asking for a numeric password.
"507?" Fatty and I said in unison.
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