Chapter 363: Earthquake

Su Shan took a step to the side, moving closer to the edge of the glass room, and reached out to pat her own wall.

Though she made no sound, Zhang Chenze noticed her movement and turned to look at her before the “drawing of lots” began.

Su Shan paused, then pointed at her own glass room and then at Zhang Chenze’s, extending four fingers and mouthing the words twice: “Four Seasons.”

In an environment where communication was impossible, this was the best way she could think to convey her meaning.

Fortunately, she knew Zhang Chenze, as a lawyer, had a highly analytical mind and would likely understand.

Zhang Chenze lightly scratched her head, studying Su Shan’s lip movements.

“Four…?” she muttered to herself, frowning. “Four what?”

As a “newcomer,” Zhang Chenze felt uneasy. She didn’t know what the “Dog” game represented, and from her perspective, Su Shan could very well be deceiving her.

“But what does ‘four’ mean?” Zhang Chenze glanced at her own green glass room, then muttered a few possibilities before quickly arriving at the answer. “Four Seasons…?”

She looked at the colors of the other rooms. Though the idea seemed bold, it made a strange kind of sense.

Each person was playing a season, and their actions could only correspond to the season they represented.

After a moment of thought, Zhang Chenze looked down at the two lots in her hand—one read “Torrential Rain Pours Down,” the other “Blazing Sun Warms the Earth.” These were clearly events that belonged to “Summer.”

“So I’m ‘Summer’…” Even though she had figured out the rules, Zhang Chenze still felt lost.

If she was “Summer,” that meant she wouldn’t encounter the “Nian Beast” at all, nor would she deal any damage to it. So what was she supposed to do next?

Just wait for the others to act? Or…

Should she summon “Torrential Rain” and “Blazing Sun”?

Before she could decide, a new lot appeared on the table:

“Neutral Lot.”

It was a lot without any arrows, and the words on it offered no hints—just the two characters for “Neutral Lot.”

Zhang Chenze knew this lot was useless, like drawing a “Try Again” in a raffle. She had already played one in the previous round.

“If ‘Four Seasons’ and the ‘Nian Beast’s’ wishes make every lot effective, then every lot must have a purpose… So we can’t recklessly play them.”

Zhang Chenze decided to stick to her usual approach—when lacking information, make no judgments.

After all, she had seen the scenes in Lin Qin and Qin Dingdong’s rooms. Upon closer analysis, Lin Qin’s gale had come from Qin Dingdong, Qin Dingdong’s “sandstorm” from the Earth Dog, and the lot that countered the Earth Dog’s “sandstorm” could now only come from Su Shan.

In other words, every lot had a specific use and could only affect someone else’s room.

If she played “Torrential Rain” or “Blazing Sun” now, she might be powerless to stop a future disaster.

So without hesitation, she took the “Neutral Lot” and inserted it into the hole on the table.

Then, following Su Shan’s example, she passed on the concept of “Four Seasons” to Lin Qin, who represented Autumn.

Lin Qin quickly understood Zhang Chenze’s meaning, but she was equally helpless.

She looked at the three lots in her hand—all of them were “Neutral Lots.”

“What is this game even about…?”

Since Lin Qin’s last lot had also been a “Neutral Lot,” it had no effect on any room.

Though using up “Neutral Lots” was a good thing, from her perspective, the game had become completely incomprehensible.

Drawing “Neutral Lots” for two consecutive rounds made her suspect that everyone could only draw them.

If that were the case, how were they supposed to win this game? How could they damage the “Nian Beast”?

Were there even differences between one “Neutral Lot” and another?

“What are you all even playing…?” Lin Qin stared at the three lots in her hand, her expression growing more and more bewildered. “If we can only get these, what difference does it make what ‘season’ we are…?”

Su Shan keenly noticed Lin Qin’s expression. She hadn’t expected that, even in the second round, Lin Qin still looked so confused. Had she not grasped the meaning of “Four Seasons”?

After a long silence, Lin Qin could only insert another “Neutral Lot” into the hole, achieving nothing once again.

Just as it was about to be Qin Dingdong’s turn, the Earth Dog’s broadcast sounded.

“Everyone, be careful. This round’s ‘Calamity’ is called ‘Earthquake.'”

The Earth Dog aimed the “Calamity Lot” at Lin Qin.

“Earthquake…?”

Su Shan froze for a moment. What puzzled her wasn’t the word itself but how an “earthquake” could be simulated inside such a cramped glass room.

All eyes turned to Lin Qin. Logically, the death rate from an “earthquake” was far higher than from a “sandstorm,” and unease flashed across everyone’s faces.

After all, Lin Qin was “Autumn.”

If “Autumn” died, all plans for the year would be affected.

Under the tense gazes of the others, Lin Qin felt the metal grate beneath her feet slowly rise like an elevator, bypassing the table in the room and lifting her toward the ceiling.

Her palms grew sweaty. Looking up, she realized she was getting closer and closer to the ceiling. If the grate didn’t stop, she could very well be crushed into paste.

Of all the ways she’d imagined dying, this had to be one of the most agonizing.

To protect herself, Lin Qin quickly crouched down, praying the grate would stop ascending.

Just as her head brushed the ceiling, the rising grate finally halted. Before she could even sigh in relief, the grate plummeted at an imperceptible speed, returning to its original position.

Since Lin Qin had been crouching, the sudden drop left her with no footing. She plummeted from two or three meters in the air, slamming hard onto the grate and scraping her knees bloody.

“Ugh!”

She groaned, feeling her legs go numb. She couldn’t stand up.

“This is… an earthquake?”

Lin Qin quickly tried to think of a way out. She knew she couldn’t let her guard down—based on what had just happened, the “calamity” wouldn’t stop until it was resolved.

The only person who could save her now… was Qin Dingdong.

The moment Lin Qin looked toward Qin Dingdong, before their eyes could even meet, the grate beneath her shot upward again. She desperately clung to the metal mesh, hoping to stay attached when it fell.

But she underestimated the speed of the descent.

At its peak, the grate dropped again with terrifying velocity. Lin Qin’s grip failed instantly, snapping off one of her fingernails. A second later, she crashed onto the metal plate once more.

This time, she didn’t even know where she’d hit—she just lay there, writhing in pain, unable to get up for a long time.