She was talking about the wall above the stove. Previously, apart from a few knife marks, this section of the wall was completely bare. But now, several lines of text had appeared—

Prompt: A group of travelers arrived at the snowy mountain...

Requirements: Papers will be collected every 6 hours. If no one steps on any scoring point within 6 hours, one person's exam qualification will be revoked and they will be expelled from the exam room.

Below these two lines was a large blank space, just like the answer area left on an exam paper.

What kind of question is this? What are we supposed to answer?

Everyone was at a loss.

Let alone 6 hours—even if they had 600 hours, they still wouldn’t know how to hit a scoring point.

Just then, a gust of cold wind carrying snowflakes rushed into the room, pelting everyone and making them shiver.

They followed the wind and saw that Brian Baker had somehow walked over to the window and opened half of it.

“What are you doing?!” the tattooed man shouted angrily.

Brian Baker had one hand in his pants pocket, and the other was about to reach outside. Hearing the shout, he turned his head and glanced back. Maybe it was because his gaze was so light, it always carried a cold sense of mockery and arrogance.

The tattooed man was even more annoyed. “You open the window without asking? What if something happens—can you take responsibility?”

“Who are you?”

Brian Baker tossed out those two words and ignored him, stretching his left hand outside.

Old Baker couldn’t hold back anymore. He nudged his son and whispered, “Ask him.”

For some reason, Old Baker always seemed a bit afraid of this nephew.

William Baker called out, “Bro, what are you doing?”

Brian Baker withdrew his left hand and waved it at him, finally giving an answer: “Testing what happens if someone gets expelled from the exam room.”

Everyone gasped, because bright red blood was flowing from his fingertips into his palm. Because his skin was so pale, it looked even more shocking.

He wiped it off casually, then rummaged around the windowsill, picked up a rusty iron can, and tossed it out the window.

Right before everyone’s eyes, the iron can instantly disintegrated into powder, scattering with the snow.

Looking back at the “Requirements” on the wall, everyone’s eyes were now filled with terror.

By the wall.

Brian Baker closed the window again, his gaze sweeping over their backs one by one.

The only one even remotely related to exams was William Baker... and he knew him all too well.

This classmate spent all three years of high school tangled up in early romances, group fights, sneaking out to surf the internet, and being publicly criticized under the national flag. He was always busy, and still had to find time to deal with frequent, sudden bouts of adolescent angst. He hadn’t made it out of the danger zone yet.

Physics?

You’d be better off counting on a dog.

As for the others...

Old, weak, sick, pregnant, and a little thug.

All five poisons present.

This was a death trap from the very start.

Chapter 2 Invigilator┃“You don’t... know each other, do you?” “Forgotten.”

Brian Baker kicked the aluminum basin of charcoal in the corner over, and Old Baker carefully lit the fire, making the stove glow orange-red.

William Baker squatted by the stove, dejectedly tossing in twigs.

The firelight flickered. He stared at it gloomily for a while, feeling that before dying, he ought to talk to someone about his feelings. But when he looked up, he saw his brother standing beside him, warming his hands, looking utterly uninterested and indifferent.

William Baker thought for two seconds and decided to just die quietly.

...

“Hey, um.” Old Baker suddenly spoke up.

Brian Baker glanced over.

“I don’t know what to call you.” Old Baker patted the pregnant woman’s shoulder. “You’re carrying a baby—how can you just sit here in a daze and freeze? That’s not right. Come over and warm up. Don’t catch a chill and end up with a lose-lose situation.”

The pregnant woman was stunned for a moment, then tears started streaming down her face.

Old Baker was startled. “What’s wrong, what happened?”

The woman sobbed softly, “I don’t even know if I’ll survive...”

Despite her words, she still moved her chair over to the stove.

She cried for a while, then finally stopped. With a stuffy nose, she said to Old Baker, “By the way, just call me John Baker.”

Old Baker forced a couple of laughs and tried to comfort her: “Didn’t expect you’d be a family member. You look about the same age as my so—”

He caught a glimpse of Brian Baker watching him and quickly changed course: “...as my son. What a coincidence. When we get out of this hellhole, we’ll give you a big red envelope for good luck, make sure you and your baby are safe.”

The tattooed man muttered darkly, “At a time like this, you people still feel like chatting... damn!”

Everyone’s faces stiffened at his words, and they scattered, rummaging around the room.

But while the others were searching for clues to the question, the tattooed man was looking for weapons.

Brian Baker didn’t leave. He warmed his hands, then lightly wiped the wall where the prompt was written, and lowered his head to poke through the odds and ends on the stove.

There were a few bottles and jars, a pile of blackened coins, some oddly shaped pebbles, scattered chicken feathers, and even a moldy pacifier from who knows what century.

William Baker saw that Brian Baker hadn’t left, so he didn’t dare touch anything.

He remembered what his teacher had told them before the college entrance exam: when you have no clue, read the prompt several more times. So he stood in front of the wall, muttering it over and over.

“A group of travelers arrived at the snowy mountain...”

“Travelers...”

“Snowy mountain...”

“Hiss...”

When he finished, he snapped back to reality and realized the room was unusually quiet. Everyone was holding their breath, watching him.