Now the situation was even worse: the red room that had served as their escape route had turned into a gray room, leaving them with no safe options.

It was incredibly frustrating.

It turned out that foolishness wasn’t limited to one world or time. It was everywhere.

“What—do—we—do?”

Duan Wen mouthed the words slowly, clearly enough that everyone understood, even without sound.

Everyone knew their only choices were the two blue rooms on either side.

The room with the gray sphere was absolutely out of the question because gray was the opposite of blue. The room with the blue sphere, though, was the same color as the one they were currently in. While not every same-color room had a time discrepancy, they had made it through several blue rooms before with some luck.

Given the current situation, entering the blue-sphere room now gave them a 50-50 chance of encountering a time discrepancy.

The slowness of their movements added to their irritation.

In this room where everything was slowed down, every move and every communication felt clumsy and awkward.

There was no need for further discussion.

Duan Wen slowly removed the necklace he wore—a Celestial 10-year anniversary commemorative item. It had taken some effort for him to find this necklace, and now he was using it to test the blue-sphere room. He didn’t want the same fate as Morita Yuu, who had been cut in half by a time discrepancy.

Duan Wen tossed the necklace to Song Qinglan, the tallest of the group, standing in the center holding the blue sphere.

The necklace floated slowly through the air, its commemorative emblem catching the light.

Song Qinglan caught the necklace. “Beep——” The round door on the right opened, and Song Qinglan climbed the ladder, throwing the necklace heavily into the blue room.

The necklace’s trajectory through the air seemed endlessly slow.

Everyone watched as it passed through the circular door, only to disintegrate into shimmering dust, vanishing before their eyes.

There was no metallic clinking sound as it hit the ground.

Song Qinglan frowned deeply.

The necklace had disintegrated upon entering the blue room. If anyone had gone in, the consequences would have been catastrophic.

He climbed down the ladder and shook his head at the others: “No—good—”

Everyone’s mouths opened slightly in disbelief. In this slow-motion world, their micro-expressions were exaggerated, revealing their true feelings. Even Ji Yushi felt a flash of fear.

That left only the blue-sphere room on the left.

They needed something else to test it. Duan Wen shook his head, indicating he had nothing left to throw.

Unlike other countries, weapons were controlled in China, and even Sky Vault Guardians were only given weapons upon arrival at a mission destination. This time, they had entered the cube directly after exiting the capsule, so they had no weapons to throw.

Throwing a communicator? Shoes? Clothes?

Ji Yushi took out his medicine box from his pocket.

He had a few personal items, including a game console. Throwing the console was out of the question, but the medicine box would do.

Everyone watched as Ji Yushi threw the box to Song Qinglan.

The box spun slowly through the air before Song Qinglan caught it.

The moment Song Qinglan held the small box, he noticed it felt lighter than expected. In the bookstore on PU-31, he had handled Ji Yushi’s fully stocked medicine box.

Climbing the ladder on the left wall, Song Qinglan opened the box, facing away from the group.

He glanced inside, then turned around.

Ji Yushi, Duan Wen, and Lin Xinlan were all looking up at him from below, their expressions calm, with Ji Yushi always seeming the most composed and rational.

Inside the box, the neatly arranged pills were missing three. As Song Qinglan had suspected, Ji Yushi’s time spent alone in the red room for nearly 20 hours hadn’t been as simple as he made it seem.

Song Qinglan took out a single pill and threw it into the blue-sphere room in front of him.

The small pill bounced twice on the floor, remaining intact.

Song Qinglan signaled to the group that it was safe.

But no one was entirely relieved—an inanimate object might be fine, but a living person might not fare the same. No one could be sure if the time discrepancy would affect a person differently.

The blue sphere floated in the distance, waiting for them to decide.

Now, the question was who would go into the room first to test it.

Lin Xinlan pulled out a die from his pocket: “This—one—”

Song Qinglan narrowed his eyes.

This guy had a die this whole time and didn’t use it earlier?

The group quickly agreed, in their slow-motion way, to roll the die, with the person who rolled the lowest number entering the blue-sphere room first.

Lin Xinlan rolled first, landing a “4.”

Not too high, not too low—a relatively safe number.

Lin Xinlan smiled.

Next was Duan Wen, who rolled a “5,” a very safe number. He didn’t seem particularly happy, though, and passed the die to Song Qinglan.

Song Qinglan rolled casually, and the die landed on “2.”

Lin Xinlan’s smile faded, and Duan Wen’s brow furrowed. This might be the lowest roll.

Finally, it was Ji Yushi’s turn.

He caught the die that Song Qinglan tossed and threw it into the air, holding out his hand, palm up.

The die fell slowly, its numbers shifting with each rotation—6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1… Due to the height, the die kept flipping, and just as it was about to land in Ji Yushi’s palm, Song Qinglan’s hand covered it.

Ji Yushi was startled.

Song Qinglan smirked slightly and took the die from him.

“3—” Song Qinglan mouthed, “I—rolled—the—lowest—”

“Captain—Song—” Duan Wen protested, thinking Song Qinglan, as the captain, was more valuable and should let him go first.

Song Qinglan gestured for Duan Wen to open the door.

His tone left no room for argument, so Duan Wen complied.

Song Qinglan climbed the ladder and stepped through the circular opening.

Ji Yushi watched intently, the image of Morita Yuu’s death flashing before his eyes, his palms and forehead breaking into a cold sweat.

The moment Song Qinglan’s upper body entered the room, Ji Yushi instinctively closed his eyes.

“Come—over—”

The familiar voice echoed from the other room, slow but clear in their ears.

Ji Yushi opened his eyes and saw Song Qinglan standing at the circular door, unharmed, moving at normal speed.

The room was safe!

The group felt as if they had won the lottery. One by one, they slowly climbed the ladder, escaping the cursed slow-motion room.

The moment they stepped into the new room and their feet hit the floor, everything seemed too fast!

After being stuck in slow-motion, returning to normal speed caught them off guard. Even the seasoned Duan Wen nearly tripped in his haste.

Sound and speed returned.

Duan Wen cursed loudly: “F***, f***, f***! We’re finally out!”

Lin Xinlan, leaning against the wall, said, “Wait, I can’t adjust. Is this room really not sped up?”

Duan Wen: “Consultant Ji, how are you?”

Everyone gasped for breath as if they had just surfaced from underwater, slumping against the walls.

Ji Yushi replied, “I’m fine.”

Song Qinglan seemed to adjust well, having already walked a lap around the room. He picked up Ji Yushi’s discarded pill but, after examining it, tossed it aside. The room had no markings, meaning no one had been here before, and there were no signs of abnormalities.

“The appearance of those idiots reminded us of something,” Song Qinglan said, standing alone with his long legs, looking mature and sharp in his boots. “Something we might have thought of but overlooked.”

He tossed the die to Lin Xinlan.

The die arced smoothly through the air, landing in Lin Xinlan’s hand. It seemed Song Qinglan was still annoyed that Lin hadn’t used the die earlier.

Lin Xinlan squeezed the die, a fleeting smile playing on his lips.

Duan Wen asked, “What is it?”

Song Qinglan replied, “I’m sure Consultant Ji already thought of it.”

Ji Yushi was caught off guard by the mention of his name and met Song Qinglan’s gaze, his heart skipping a beat.

Song Qinglan’s expression was as usual, calm and composed, just as a captain should be when addressing a teammate.

But only Ji Yushi knew what had really happened.

When it was his turn to roll the die, Ji Yushi had clearly seen the number it landed on—a “1.”

Ji Yushi had rolled the lowest number.

He should have been the first to test the room, risking his life to ensure it was safe.

Why had Song Qinglan done that?

Why had he lied to everyone?

Was it because Song Qinglan thought Ji Yushi was more valuable, believing he was the one who could lead the team to complete the mission if something went wrong?

It was a secret known only to the two of them. Since Song Qinglan didn’t plan to bring it up, Ji Yushi didn’t either. But if there was a next time, Ji Yushi didn’t want it to happen again. He didn’t believe he was someone who needed protection.

Ji Yushi stood up and casually brushed off his hands, though there was no dust.

“Yes, I thought of it,” he said.

Duan Wen, confused, asked, “Thought of what?”

Lin Xinlan also looked up, waiting for an explanation.

“There are not just the four of us here,” Ji Yushi said. “Besides our separated teammates, there are also other teams of protectors. We know that each time someone leaves a room, that room moves. So, even if we figure out the movement pattern of these rooms, others could move them as well.”

Duan Wen belatedly realized, “Oh crap! That’s a real problem!”

Lin Xinlan added, “What you mean is, even if the task is to splice the rooms with time discrepancies in a specific order, someone else could mess up the arrangement.”

The three fell silent for a moment.

Lin Xinlan was sharp. Even though they hadn’t explicitly explained that completing the “splicing” required arranging the rooms in sequence, he had already pieced it together.

“You don’t need to be so wary of me,” Lin Xinlan said. “I just want to get out of here. I don’t care about finishing the mission or the reward. Don’t you feel the same?”

Aside from Sky Vault’s Team 7, the other protectors had been temporarily pulled in to make up numbers.

Lin Xinlan, unaware of Team 7’s time-space abduction situation, thought they were also temporarily pulled in and assumed everyone shared the same goal.

Song Qinglan didn’t respond directly. Instead, he said, “You’re right. With multiple teams present, organizing the rooms with time discrepancies seems like an impossible task.”

Duan Wen asked, “So what do we do now? Track down everyone and ask them to stay put?”

Ji Yushi shook his head. “That won’t work. We don’t even know how many travelers are in here.”

“Let’s not worry about that for now,” Song Qinglan said. “Without a better idea, the best approach is to stick to our current plan. We’ll keep figuring out the room movements, at least so we aren’t wandering around blindly.”

With that, everyone renewed their focus.

Duan Wen grabbed the floating sphere, while the others observed the colors of the surrounding rooms.

After checking two rooms, Song Qinglan returned and saw Ji Yushi making marks on the wall.

This time, Ji Yushi wasn’t using the scribbles from the bearded language. Instead, he was drawing a large Arabic numeral “2” on the wall.

Song Qinglan asked, “What’s this?”

Ji Yushi replied while writing, “I’ve roughly figured out some of the movement patterns. The changes in the rooms correspond to different directions: up-right, down-left, left-back, right-forward, front-down, back-up. Six movement directions in total, which still need verification. But based on those people’s movements earlier, they should still be nearby.”

Song Qinglan started to understand Ji Yushi’s strategy and suddenly felt in a better mood.

Sure enough, after finishing the “2,” Ji Yushi began writing a large “9” on the wall. The handwriting was particularly familiar. “If they come to this room, they shouldn’t be more than five rooms away.”

The previous room had a “24” marked by the other team.

If those people came here and saw the misleading “29” on the wall, what would their reaction be? Would they get confused, thinking they were going in circles? And if Ji Yushi was feeling extra mischievous, he could leave more misleading numbers like “25” and “26” in other rooms they passed through.

Ji Yushi stepped back, looking quite satisfied with his handiwork.

Even though he appeared serious and calm, there was a hint of mischief beneath the surface.

“Let’s go,” Ji Yushi said, his revenge fulfilled. “On to the next room.”

They chose a new room with a red sphere, intending to use it to check out the gray room.

As they climbed the ladder, Ji Yushi suddenly remembered that Song Qinglan hadn’t returned his medicine box.

He paused and called down to Song Qinglan, “Captain Song, where’s my medicine box?”

As the team leader, Song Qinglan usually brought up the rear to ensure everyone’s safety.

Hearing Ji Yushi’s request, Song Qinglan was unmoved. In fact, he sounded almost amused as he responded, “Consultant Ji, I’m here to inform you on behalf of the organization that your mental alertness is off the charts. The medicine box is temporarily confiscated, and you won’t be getting it back.”

From another room, Duan Wen’s voice chimed in, “The organization monitors that?”

Song Qinglan, laughing, retorted, “Yes. The organization’s also noticed your lack of energy and is thinking about giving you a pill.”