Chapter 846: Chapter 810: It’s a Good Day!
When Teacher Slaughter rushed onto the cruise ship, it was already past midnight.
The cruise ship was quiet, with everyone having returned to their rooms to rest.
It was too late for Teacher Slaughter to stir up trouble even if he wanted to. He angrily went to his room at the bow of the ship, a room set up by the production team specifically for the hosts from the Upper Class People, far away from those lower-class people’s rooms.
Not far from outside was the control room of the cruise ship, which, of course, was also unmanned. The ship is fully automated in navigation — the technology is still not quite mature, so while the Upper Class People board automated cruises, someone is still stationed in the control room to prevent accidents.
The value of lower-class people is much lower than that of the Upper Class People; they are not afraid of accidents, as it doesn’t matter how many die.
However, the lower-class people on this ship are still of some value, and besides, there’s an Upper Class People host on the ship.
So, the control room is equipped with a robot that can control the cruise. If the autopilot system fails, the robot will take over. It is worth mentioning that the manufacturing technology of this robot is also not fully mature.
The host’s room has two levels, with an entire layer of screens on the second level, which functions as a surveillance room.
In the surveillance room, one can see the situation in each participant’s room.
Teacher Slaughter focused his observation in the surveillance room on Room 1118. He initially wanted to give 1118 a hard time as soon as he arrived, but he came too late; by the time he got on the boat, everyone had returned to their rooms.
Room 1118, occupied by the most popular participant, is the largest room among the contestants. It is equipped with thirty to forty cameras.
At this moment, the lights were still on in 1118’s room; he wasn’t asleep yet. But whether by coincidence or not, 1118 always lingered in several surveillance blind spots, and the two follower cameras that accompanied him during the day had stopped working and were charging next to each other.
Teacher Slaughter eagerly searched for 1118 in the surveillance room for a long time but only caught glimpses of fleeting shadows.
Frustrated, he rolled his eyes a few times, deciding to step outside the room to get some fresh air.
Outside the room, there was the deck at the ship’s bow, currently facing the direction of Carnival Wharf.
Standing at the bow, he looked in that direction and saw that the lights were still on in a white two-story building by the wharf. The wharf staff were working inside. The building was quite large, forming a square shape when viewed from above.
This was the first time Teacher Slaughter observed the building up close.
The higher-ups had classified Carnival Wharf as a Level 3 restricted area, similar to the Secret Forest in the prohibited area, not allowing casual entry.
Far from the wharf, there were restricted area signs, and people patrolled the perimeter. Anyone approaching would immediately be escorted back.
The wharf was mainly for transporting secret or urgently needed goods and wasn’t frequently used.
The stage materials for the second and third phases once passed through Carnival Wharf.
Yet even during cargo transportation, the people inside were elusive. Teacher Slaughter had never seen the employees at the wharf nor knew anyone working there.
Curious, he peered at the building, trying to see more.
Perhaps the heavens heard his desire. Coincidentally, a window on the building’s second floor suddenly opened, and a figure appeared at the window.
He wore a dark blue uniform, with two fingers of his right hand holding a cigarette, which he took a deep drag from.
The glow of the cigarette seemed like a branding iron, etched deep into the pitch-black curtain called the night.
Teacher Slaughter’s entire attention was drawn to that point of fire.
He gaped, staring blankly at the person leisurely smoking at the window.
The person behind the window noticed him too, blew two smoke rings toward Teacher Slaughter’s direction with a mischievous expression, then flicked the ash toward Teacher Slaughter and finally closed the window with a smile.
Of course, the lit cigarette butt didn’t hit Teacher Slaughter; they were too far apart. It fell from the second floor, dropped to the ground, bounced a few times, and eventually, the wind rolled it off somewhere unknown.
The firelight vanished into the night, yet Teacher Slaughter still blankly stared at the window that had just opened.
He could hardly believe his eyes.
Until a night breeze blew by, its chill clearing his head a bit.
He finally came to his senses and muttered to himself, "A lower-class person? That was a lower-class person, right?"
He had just seen a lower-class person leisurely smoking in a building on Carnival Wharf’s second floor, in a uniform!
Could lower-class people work at Carnival Wharf? And smoke leisurely at the window?
Impossible!
The only purpose of lower-class people was to entertain the noble Upper Class People. They couldn’t get jobs, couldn’t gain any status in a society ruled by the Upper Class People, and without special circumstances, they couldn’t appear outside the lower-class residential areas.
Teacher Slaughter would rather believe he saw a ghost than believe what he just saw was real.
Another cold wind blew over, the wound on his forehead tingling slightly from the breeze.
Feeling the pain from his forehead, Teacher Slaughter suddenly realized.
It must be that his still-healing head wound caused him to see such an illusion. Teacher Slaughter thought so to himself, hesitatingly glancing again at the window that had opened before, but nothing moved there, seemingly no one would come to it again.
He held his head and returned to his room, thinking he should get some rest.
Too many illusions today; he needed a good rest to let his bruised head catch a breath; he didn’t want to make a mistake in tomorrow’s second and third phases.
The second and third phases would proceed continuously tomorrow, with the second phase eliminating forty people, leaving only ten to enter the third phase, where those ten contestants would then vie for the final championship.
Teacher Slaughter had already reviewed the program for the second and third phases. It was very exciting and sure to leave a lasting impression on the audience. As long as the program hosted successfully and gained fame, his career might return to its former glory.
Harboring hopes for the future, Teacher Slaughter fell into a deep sleep.
Some hold hope, while others despair.
At this time, Crazy Tower Chief was trapped in despair.
Gu Mian, that companion who loved to rob, came again to "offer up" to him.
He dared not voice anger, couldn’t fight or scold, and had to peel a bit off his already weak household income to give that glasses guy.
If he could, Crazy Tower Chief would wish in front of Gu Mian that he never encounters Gu Mian or his gang of friends again.
Unfortunately, Gu Mian’s wish mechanism only fulfilled his own wishes.
So Crazy Tower Chief could only hope that Gu Mian could successfully rescue the person he aimed to save this time, so as to escape from suffering soon.
Almost everyone awaited tomorrow.
And the "tomorrow" everyone awaited quickly arrived.
