In the first round of tag, seven minutes have already passed. Just three more minutes and we can vote.
However, regarding the ghost's identity, she had almost entirely subjective speculation, with absolutely no evidence. If she rashly chose during the vote…
You'll die if you guess wrong.
Xia Chuhe glanced at the charred student ID card. Fire, time...
A high school student realized the problem and boldly typed away on the keyboard and computer: "No, the computer is broken, restarting won't help."
"I...I'm a programmer. If...if it's a program error, I can fix it," the plaid shirt stammered. "But if it's a hardware problem, I...can't solve it."
The blue-collar worker patted the repair kit: "I can fix that too."
The two Xia Chuhes retreated to the corner, making room for them.
Three minutes was only enough time for the blue-collar worker and the plaid shirt to confirm that both the host computer and the program had problems, but they still needed more time to figure out exactly where the problem was and how to solve it.
A soft "ding" sounded from the air, and the game switched to humans catching ghosts.
A high school student hesitated and asked, "How do we vote? Orally? Or in writing?"
"Anything is fine, if you have paper and pen," Mr. Dai replied lazily, his arms crossed as he watched the four of them busily working with a mocking expression.
Xia Chuhe took out paper and pen from the farm warehouse: "Write it down."
She looked at the blue-collar workers and those in plaid shirts: "Do you have any ideas?"
The man in the plaid shirt's gaze shifted between Xia Chuhe and Mr. Dai. He didn't entirely believe that Xia Chuhe was a good person, but relatively speaking, Xia Chuhe seemed safer than Mr. Dai.
Time passed second by second. Xia Chuhe and a high school student finished writing their answers on paper. The high school student then asked Xia Chuhe to compare their answers. After discovering that they had written the same meaning, the student proudly nodded.
Sweat beaded on the plaid shirt's forehead, and his eardrums vibrated as if tiny people were drilling into his ear canals and drumming.
"Can I see your answers?" the blue-collar worker asked.
A high school student cast an inquiring glance at Xia Chuhe, who handed him a note: "Of course."
"So that's another way, not bad." The blue-collar worker quickly copied down the answer.
The plaid-shirt-wearing man glanced at the paper; it read "abstain."
That's how it's done.
If casting the wrong ball will kill me, then I won't cast it.
But is this really okay?
The plaid-shirted boy copied down the answer with some skepticism, wondering what Mr. Dai would write.
A minute passed quickly, and the "ding" reminder rang out again in the air.
All five remained standing; no one died, and no one was eliminated.
Plaid Shirt felt much more at ease. As long as he stayed here, fixed the computer within forty-nine minutes, and found out the ghost's identity, the game could end smoothly.
"Come on, you fix the hardware problem first, then I'll check the program." The plaid shirt felt much more at ease, and his voice became more confident.
The blue-collar worker took out tools from his repair kit: "I'll get there as soon as possible."
Mr. Dai walked over unhurriedly, stopped in front of the computer next to everyone, and smiled, "Do you need any help?"
"The biggest help you can do is stay away from me," Xia Chuhe retorted casually.
Mr. Dai wasn't annoyed; he just stood there, looking down at the blue-collar repairman.
A high school student was sitting in a gaming chair. The position was low enough that a small patch of skin under the collar of his blue-collar shirt could be seen. It was uneven and red, like a burn mark.
The blue-collar worker quickly disassembled the main unit, inspected the hardware, and searched for replacement parts in the repair kit. He glanced up casually and met the inquiring, evasive gaze of a high school student. He chuckled and said, "The scar is too ugly. Did it scare you? I was scalded by boiling water when I was a child. I didn't have money and couldn't afford to go to the hospital for treatment, so it ended up like this."
A high school student looked at him with sympathy and said, "Sorry, I'm fine."
She turned her face away.
"ah--"
The blue-collar worker suddenly yelled, plopped down on the ground, and crawled backward on all fours: "There's...there's...something...inside the main unit...dirty stuff..."
Xia Chuhe tapped the table and cautiously assigned a seat to a high school student: "You, sit on the computer desk."
"No need... Mom?" A high school student asked with a worried expression.
"Do as I say, or I'll beat you up," Xia Chuhe said irritably. "And don't go around calling anyone 'Mom'."
A high school student braced himself on the table, nimbly jumped up, squatted down, and said with a grin, "Okay, Mom."
After saying that, she wiped her hands on her pants and blew on the dust off them with disgust.
Xia Chuhe: "..."
Did I really deserve a beating?
No wonder I have no friends.
"Xiao Dai, didn't you want to help? Why don't you come and take a look?" Xia Chuhe said with a half-smile.
Mr. Dai said with a righteous expression, "No, I'm a human being, I'm afraid of ghosts."
Xia Chuhe scoffed, "I'll do it."
She lifted her foot forward, but before it landed in front of the main unit, she immediately pulled it back.
Let's seduce them.
The ghost inside the host was clearly inexperienced, and was actually fooled by Xia Chuhe's clumsy tricks, eagerly extending its "wires" to coil around her.
Unfortunately, the ghost not only failed to catch Xia Chuhe, but also exposed its own existence.
The blue-collar worker, now certain of the ghost's existence, grew increasingly uneasy: "No, I'm not doing this anymore. I can't do this job."
He looked around, trying to find a safe place.
The plaid shirt had already jumped onto the computer desktop, just like a high school student. The two of them, one on the left and one on the right, looked like two stone lions guarding the house.
"Watch out!" Xia Chuhe tugged at the blue-collar worker sitting on the ground, causing him to fall face-first into the mud, but fortunately he dodged the "electric wire" that came from behind.
The blue-collar worker grimaced as he got up and thanked Xia Chuhe.
"It's come to this point, what props do you have? Use them!" a high school student reminded the group.
The plaid shirt sighed: "I... am like having a spectrum analyzer, which can measure the frequency of different signals."
The blue-collar worker said, "I have a screwdriver that can open anything."
These two items may seem useless in this game, but the game doesn't give out useless items.
Xia Chuhe looked at the blue-collar worker: "Try it."
"That's not a good idea. I'm a radio enthusiast, so it won't be of much use here," the plaid shirt said reluctantly.
Xia Chuhe got annoyed: "If you don't want to die, then use it."
The plaid-shirted man clutched the prop card in his pocket: "I have to move it around to different places to use it."
The implication is that he just wants to stay in a safe place and doesn't want to move around.
"Give it to me, I'll go." Xia Chuhe suppressed her anger; if it weren't for the fact that the plaid shirt was an NPC, she would have lost her temper.
The plaid-shirt hesitantly handed the prop card to Xia Chuhe: "Don't lose it, I want to use it again later."
Xia Chuhe gave a perfunctory "hmm," snatched the prop card, and began to experience the difference in the surrounding environment.
As he kept running and dodging, Xia Chuhe sensed a different area where the signal frequency was much higher than in other places.
She checked the area several times but found nothing unusual.
Xia Chuhe thought for a moment, took out a dagger, cut the tattered carpet, and found an iron door on the ground.
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