Trembling in the Skies

Chapter 46: Back to Their Respective Posts

“Well, that’s a whole other question,” the fair-faced man hesitated, reluctant to answer. “Do you know anything about guilds? Should I ask you some questions about that too?” Li Teng whispered to the woman in sunglasses. “I’m not in a guild, I haven’t made any enemies within a guild, and I don’t really know much about that stuff,” the woman in sunglasses shook her head. “You should still answer that question from earlier,” the fair-faced man said after a moment’s thought. “The ‘Hell Mode’ performance also involves eight participants—all eight are people being punished—and there are only two possible outcomes. One is that only one of the eight performers survives—seven die, one lives; the other is that all eight performers die. That’s why it’s called ‘Hell Mode.’ ” “At least as far as I know, those are the only two outcomes—there’s no better result than that.” “Betting your own life and livelihood on the chance that the other person’s account balance is less than 100 points is way too risky! I’d advise all you newbies not to play ‘self-destruct’ for no reason—it doesn’t do you any good; it’s the kind of thing that hurts others without helping yourself.” The fair-faced guy glanced at Li Teng. “When a newbie is backed into a corner, they have no choice but to go for a self-destruct!” Gao Fei snorted. “So what you’re saying is, in that scene we just filmed—if I weren’t a ghost, but the Old Demon… the old woman were a ghost—and I’d killed her on the bus before she’d broken the seal, since she’s a guild member, I wouldn’t have been directly penalized 1,000 points. Instead, I’d have been forced to participate in a Hell Mode performance, while the old woman would’ve been penalized 100 points, right?” ” Li Teng seized the opportunity to ask a follow-up question. “No, the scene we just filmed wasn’t a competitive performance. You and she are both actors in the same production crew; you aren’t part of two opposing factions currently in conflict, so the rule I just mentioned doesn’t apply. In that scenario—if she were a ghost and you weren’t—killing her on the bus would have only one consequence: you’d be deducted 1,000 points, immediately eliminated, and sealed in wax.” “Two opposing factions that are actively in conflict—for example, in a scene set during World War II, where one actor represents the Axis powers and another represents the Allies, and the relationship between these two characters is completely hostile—that’s what’s called a competitive performance.” The fair-skinned young man shook his head. “When a newbie is being hunted down by guild members and cornered, if it’s a confrontational performance, there’s a sliver of hope to end the scenario by self-destructing and taking the opponent down with you, right?” Li Teng was starting to get it. “If your opponent—that guild member—has fewer than 100 points in their account, you can try using this method to end the scenario. As for mutual destruction? Hmph, it doesn’t quite go that far. If you dare to do that, you’re entering a hellish scenario where you’ll have a one-in-seven or one-in-eight chance of survival. Meanwhile, the opponent will only lose 100 points. If their account balance exceeds 100 points, all you’ll have traded your life for is their 100 points.” “Even if the opponent’s account doesn’t have 100 points and is temporarily sealed, if they’ve made some contributions to the guild and the guild deems the cost negligible, they might allocate a small amount of points from the guild’s funds to redeem them. So, I advise you not to entertain such thoughts lightly—you won’t like Hell Mode.” If Gao Fei hadn’t brought up the topic of newbie protection on his own, the Fair-Faced One actually wouldn’t have wanted to share this information with Li Teng. But now that it’s out in the open, it doesn’t really matter anymore. “I can’t help but feel like this ‘Hell Mode’ was tailor-made just for you,” the woman in sunglasses teased Li Teng. “I really didn’t have much luck in the first match, but my luck has turned around in this one.” Li Teng certainly didn’t want to go through that so-called “Hell Mode.” “You really did get lucky,” the guy with glasses sighed. They’d thought Li Teng was as good as dead and had been worried the whole time that he’d use his high IQ to pull off some kind of comeback. He never expected him to win this way—it was truly unexpected. After Gao Fei finished questioning the pretty-boy, it was Li Teng’s turn to ask the woman in sunglasses a question. “Once an actor moves up from an extra to a higher level, do they gain the right to choose scripts and production teams? At what level do they start having that right?” Li Teng asked the woman in sunglasses. “All I know is that once the lowest-level extras are promoted to minor supporting roles, they gain the right to choose their production crew, but not the script. After each performance ends, they can check the terminal or a connected device—like a smartphone—to see which crews they can join next.” “The production team you were originally with will also appear on the list. For minor extras like me, there’s an additional option: a new production team will appear. If you tap on the details, you can view information about the members of that new team. If I don’t want to join this new team and don’t want to stay with my original one, I can refresh the list once for free to find another production team. Those at a higher level than me should be able to refresh it more times,” the woman in sunglasses replied to Li Teng. “That’s how that old hag found me, right? She refreshed several times, found our production team, and clicked on the details to discover I was here…” Li Teng was starting to figure out what was going on. “There are benefits to leveling up to a minor extra as soon as possible. If you can’t make it in one production team, you can switch to another at any time,” the woman in sunglasses added. The director awarded 1 point to the woman in sunglasses for her answer. Next, it was the young girl’s turn to ask the pretty-faced guy a question. “I want to know why we ended up on the stone pillar. Does our original world still exist?” the young girl asked the pretty-faced guy. During her first day of filming, she’d been somewhat excited, since her dream was to become an actress. But after filming two scenes, she was already thinking of quitting. Clearly, this wasn’t the kind of show she wanted to be in. There was hardly any plot, and she could die at any moment. “That’s too difficult a question; I can’t answer it,” the fair-faced man shook his head. This was a fundamental question—even some of the high-ranking, extremely seasoned actors the pretty-boy knew didn’t have an answer. Of course, they might have one, but for some reason, they wouldn’t share it with a lowly, unknown actor like him. “Is there any way to contact my family back home?” the girl had no choice but to ask a different question. “No,” the fair-faced young man replied firmly. With the Q&A session over, it was time to handle any additional matters. Since there were no additional matters to handle, they skipped this segment altogether. After that, the group was headed to the airport, where they were forcibly taken by helicopter back to their respective stone pillars. “Come here. I have something to tell you,” the woman in sunglasses said to Li Teng as she stood up, then walked toward a deserted street corner in the distance. “What is it? Why so mysterious?” Li Teng furrowed his brow, but followed her anyway.