Perhaps it was a man who had lost the use of his legs.
His suit pants hung loosely, the empty cuffs revealing withered, bruised calves covered in festering sores, from which murky pus oozed and dripped.
Tong Yang gave a resigned look and calmly turned her head away under Sun Ye’s pleading gaze.
No matter what, no matter what happened today, her top priority was to complete the college entrance exam.
“What do we do…?”
“Am I dreaming? This is so weird.”
“Can someone go check outside?”
An uneasy tension filled the classroom. Tong Yang let out an almost imperceptible sigh and warned, “You’d better not look around or leave your seats.”
“Fuck! If you know something, just say it!”
“Damn idiot, stop with the creepy bullshit!”
A hot-tempered boy from the back row violently kicked his desk aside and stomped toward Tong Yang.
She shook her head helplessly—those who ignored good advice would suffer the consequences.
Midway, the sound of shattering glass pierced the air. A blade flew from nowhere, leaving a small hole in the window before embedding itself in the boy’s throat.
“Ah—!”
He screamed as the knife grazed his skin, blood instantly soaking his collar.
“Who the hell—?!” Clutching his neck, pale-faced, he stared in terror at the window—but there was no one outside.
“First warning. Examinees, return to your seats,” the broadcast announced again.
The classroom fell deathly silent, the students frozen in shock.
Tong Yang glanced at the boy. “Still not going back?”
Realizing the severity of the situation, the boy scrambled back to his seat, too terrified to cause more trouble.
The sight of his bloodied clothes made it clear this was no joke. The students held their breaths, some trembling in fear, tears streaming down their faces.
When the clock struck nine, faint footsteps echoed outside. Amid gasps, three impeccably dressed teachers, wearing invigilator badges around their necks, entered the classroom one after another.
Their skin was unnaturally pale, their pupils pitch-black—so dark it felt unsettling.
“Examinees, place your ID cards and admission tickets on the upper right corner of your desks,” Invigilator A instructed, his voice cold and mechanical.
Tong Yang complied immediately. The others, though panicked, followed suit, the memory of the boy’s bleeding throat still fresh in their minds.
“First-row examinees, come collect the test papers and scratch paper. Pass them backward,” Invigilator B said, arranging the materials neatly on the podium.
The first-row students exchanged nervous glances before shuffling forward, heads bowed, to retrieve the papers. Hands shaking, they returned to their seats and passed them along.
“Window-side students, close all windows and doors. Draw the curtains.”
The room was sealed off, cutting off any view of the outside world.
“First, congratulations on participating in this independent college entrance exam. Second, during the exam, you must not whisper, make noise, engage in any non-exam-related behavior, or make eye contact with the invigilators. Finally, the Chinese language test will last two and a half hours—thirty minutes for the written portion. After that, you will leave the classroom to participate in the next critical phase: the campus survival game.”
“The rule is simple: examinees who return to the classroom alive twenty minutes before the next exam may proceed. Those who die during the game will be permanently disqualified.”
The chilling words hung in the air, leaving the students stiff and dazed.
“W-what…?”
“Is this a TV show? This is the college entrance exam…”
“Examinee No. 19, remain silent. Another violation will result in immediate punishment,” Invigilator C stated flatly.
No. 19 paled, looking around frantically. “Hey?! Why are you all so scared? There are so many of us… We’ve been kidnapped! Doesn’t this seem weird to you? Let’s just leave and call the police! There are only three of them—”
“Warning disregarded.”
Invigilator C strode down from the podium, marching straight to No. 19.
With a ghastly pale hand, he grabbed the student’s hair and—amid horrified gasps and No. 19’s screams—slammed his head into the desk. Again. And again. Each impact harder than the last, until blood gushed from his forehead, soaking the test papers and scratch paper beneath him.
“Fuck…”
“Ah—!”
“Stop! I’m sorry… Teacher, I’m sorry!”
“Help me! Someone help me!”
As No. 19 wailed in agony, Invigilator C, like a pre-programmed machine, finally released him. His shirt and face were splattered with blood as he monotonously announced, “Examinee No. 19, comply with exam rules. Collect a new test paper.”
Trembling, No. 19 staggered to the podium, his face streaked with blood and tears, to retrieve a fresh exam sheet.
The other students sat rigid, too terrified to make a sound. This was no movie. No game.
Then, in the suffocating silence, Examinee No. 12—Tong Yang—raised her hand.
“Examinee No. 12, state your question.”
“Teacher, thirty minutes for the written portion is unreasonable.”
The entire classroom stared at her in disbelief.
In this horrifying, surreal situation… she was worried about that?!
“Reason,” Invigilator A demanded, his unnaturally large black eyes bulging slightly. If her answer wasn’t convincing, she’d likely end up like No. 19.
“The essay requires at least eight hundred words. Writing it would take twenty minutes minimum, leaving only ten for the rest—impossible to finish.” Flipping through the test paper, she added, “Teacher, will the results of this independent exam be recorded alongside those of Third High’s other examinees?”
“Yes.”
“Then I request a rule adjustment.”
Invigilator A scanned the room. “Do other examinees agree?”
If their scores would count, then despite the bizarre circumstances, they were still taking the college entrance exam—thirty minutes was far too short. Plus, extending the written portion would delay the so-called “survival game.”
Invigilator A tilted his head. “Raise your hands.”
Every hand in the classroom shot up.
"Examinee number twelve, please present your solution."
Tong Yang replied, "I suggest maintaining the standard two-and-a-half-hour written exam duration, allowing early submission. The second exam is at 3 PM, so this adjustment wouldn’t interfere with the escape trial."
The three invigilators turned their gaze toward Tong Yang in unison, their pupils rolling unnervingly, blood vessels bulging in their eyes as if her proposal had provoked fury.
"Does anyone else agree?"
The rest of the examinees raised their hands mechanically, without hesitation.
The invigilators' expressions gradually smoothed into eerie calm. One turned and pulled open the tightly drawn curtains while another unlatched both the front and back doors. Instantly, a dozen pallid faces came into view.
A crowd had gathered outside the windows—figures standing stiffly, their ashen complexions starkly unnatural, eyes stretched wide as they stared fixedly at the examinees inside, like grotesque statues frozen in menace.
Among them, Tong Yang recognized a few familiar faces—teachers from Third High School—yet their expressions and postures were disturbingly distorted.
Gasps rippled through the classroom. The nine examinees seated near the corridor windows trembled violently, their bodies shaking like sieves.
A faint metallic scent of blood hung in the air. Near the back door, a man pressed against the doorframe clutched a short knife crusted with dried blood. Hunched over, he fixed his gaze on Sun Ye’s profile, his icy breath ghosting over Sun Ye’s face.
Sun Ye kept his head bowed, chin nearly touching his collarbone, not daring to glance sideways. Sweat drenched his body.
The others shuddered in unison, unable to imagine how they’d survive such terror if they were in his place.
"The written exam duration is now set at two and a half hours, with early submission permitted. Three minutes after leaving the examination hall, hunters may begin pursuit or wait for prey to emerge. Once the exam concludes, hunters will launch a full-scale purge. The hunting grounds are Third High School, and the prey are the thirty-three examinees of Classroom 1209."
"The exam begins now."
Outside the windows, the grotesque humanoid creatures watched hungrily, their numbers swelling as they crowded together, scrutinizing every move the examinees made. Under such unnerving surveillance, focusing on the test seemed impossible.
Then, the first sound of pen scratching against paper broke the silence.
Heads turned toward the noise. It was Tong Yang—examinee number twelve, the one who had proposed the rule change—writing her name and exam number as if nothing were amiss.
Her calmness snapped the others out of their daze.
This wasn’t just any test. It was the college entrance exam. Whatever bizarre survival game was unfolding, their priority was to finish the exam—because right now, there was no better option.
Tong Yang had always been a fast test-taker, and her mental preparedness shielded her from distraction. External threats faded from her mind as she worked.
Soon, the others followed suit, picking up their pens despite their lingering fear. There was no time to waste.
10:14 AM, June 7, 2024. Over an hour into the exam, Tong Yang set down her pen and began reviewing her answers for errors.
10:33 AM. She neatly arranged her exam papers and draft sheets, then glanced around. Dozens of those inhuman figures now clustered outside the windows, all frozen in the same predatory stance, their unblinking eyes locked onto the examinees.
Most of the students were still immersed in the test, scribbling furiously.
Then came the screech of a chair scraping against the floor. Everyone looked up to see Tong Yang—examinee number twelve—calmly gathering her belongings and rising from her seat.
Stunned gazes followed her. Leaving early meant entering the survival trial alone, hunted by those monsters outside. Was she out of her mind?
Under the watchful eyes of the three invigilators and thirty-two examinees, Tong Yang strode out of the classroom.
Outside, the humanoid creatures’ eyes swiveled grotesquely, their bodies tilting toward her direction.
The hunt was about to begin.
