Chapter 12 Unboxing with Prizes

I stood rooted to the spot, unable to calm my turbulent emotions. My father’s death two years ago was a devastating blow. All the essential knowledge I’d acquired since childhood was taught to me, hand in hand, by my father. He was like a towering mountain, steadfast and unyielding, shielding me for more than twenty years.

His sudden passing in a car accident left me grief-stricken and lost, as though the pillar of my life had been ripped away, leaving me helpless and adrift. It took nearly a year before I could step out of the shadow of that sorrow. But now, with the revelation of the unusual circumstances of his death, a new storm raged within me—akin to a thunderbolt striking me squarely in the chest.

Xu Meijing leaned in to remind me, “Zheng Yan, you’re too agitated right now. Why not take a moment to rest first? Don’t open this door with your emotions running high. A single slip, and Du Jiang will have us playing right into his hands!”

I nodded slightly, forcing myself to calm down. She was right—I couldn’t face Du Jiang’s challenge with negativity clouding my judgment, or I would be doomed to fail.

After a moment’s composure, I noticed another unusual detail: three grooves had appeared on the gym floor. These grooves, each about the width of an adult’s palm and thirty centimeters deep, were embedded into the concrete floor. Inside each groove lay a red-black track, linking the three iron cabinets together.

This detail hinted at a necessary connection between the cabinets and sparked my curiosity. What kind of mechanism had Du Jiang devised within these three cabinets, and who were the three people imprisoned inside?

At this point, there were only four classmates left, but only three iron cabinets. Could it be that four people were confined within the three cabinets? What kind of punishment awaited them, and could their fate be linked to my father’s death as well?

Without hesitation, I twisted the bronze key.

A series of sharp clicks rang out from the cabinets, and the room’s lights converged into a single beam as the three cabinets sprang open simultaneously. Twelve steel panels unfolded in perfect unison, revealing a shocking scene before us.

Three exercise bikes.

These weren’t ordinary bikes. Seated atop each was one of our old classmates: Yang Zhihong, Song Yuan, and Gao Xiaolong.

The bikes were black and white, resembling the standard gym models with a flywheel, pedals, and a red handlebar. However, on each side of the bikes were two vertical tracks that extended straight upward into the ceiling—six tracks in total, conspicuous and strange, with no visible electrical wiring.

The most bizarre sight was the three riders. Unlike Ji Haifeng, who’d been stripped naked, Yang Zhihong, Song Yuan, and Gao Xiaolong were still clothed as when they arrived. Yet, they sat frozen in place, feet on the pedals, eyes wide, mouths pressed tightly shut—their bodies completely motionless, like three grotesque statues.

Xu Meijing, now too frightened to approach, hid behind me and whispered, “Zheng Yan, do you think Du Jiang has already killed them? After all, it was these three who broke his legs. He’ll never forgive them!”

I shook my head. Though unmoving, their eyes blinked, showing they were conscious. They must have been drugged and were still under anesthesia.

“If they were anesthetized, they should at least be able to speak! Yang Zhihong, say something!” Xu Meijing urged him.

Yang Zhihong squeezed his eyes shut, straining to open his mouth, but he couldn’t.

On closer inspection, I saw the problem: their mouths were sealed with a translucent substance—glue. Du Jiang had glued their mouths shut in advance.

The three of them looked at us anxiously. They had witnessed Ji Haifeng’s gruesome fate; if even a mere accomplice could be killed by an exploding phone battery, then as the main culprits, Du Jiang would have something far more sinister in store for them.

Xu Meijing glanced around. “Zheng Yan, this setup seems simple. Shouldn’t we get them off the bikes before the red cigarette box gives the signal? If we act first, we might save them!”

I quickly stopped her. “Absolutely not! This design might look simple, but there’s hidden danger—especially with those transmission tracks on either side. That’s likely the core of the killing mechanism. If rescuing them was really that easy, it wouldn’t be Du Jiang’s style. The later his traps, the deadlier they become.”

I knew the three must have a lot to say, but with their mouths glued shut, all they could do was stare at us in desperation.

I turned to them, “You must realize your situation now. Three people have already died, all at Du Jiang’s hands. Regardless of your crimes, if you want to survive, you need to cooperate. If you understand, blink your eyes.”

They blinked in unison.

“Right now, I don’t understand the mechanism before us. The only way forward is to free your mouths so you can tell us what you know. There’s only one way—use a saw blade to cut the glue. It’ll hurt, but it’s the fastest and most effective method. Can you handle it?”

The three agreed. Without delay, I started with Yang Zhihong, carefully scoring the glue over his mouth with the serrated blade.

As soon as the seal was broken, Yang Zhihong spat out blood and cursed furiously, “That damned Du Jiang! He set me up! After all these years, I’ve never suffered like this! If he shows his face, I’ll skin him alive!”

Xu Meijing slapped him. “Yang Zhihong! Look at where you are! Du Jiang could kill you as easily as squashing an ant!”

Yang Zhihong, hot-tempered by nature, was about to retort, but I cut him off: “Do you want to end up like Ji Haifeng?”

He glanced at Ji Haifeng’s corpse, his back riddled with bloody holes, blood still pooling around him. The sight was enough to choke back his curses—and his blood.

While I worked on Song Yuan’s mouth, I asked Yang Zhihong, “Don’t just stand there—tell me what you know!”

His bravado faded as he stammered, “When I passed out, I was still a little conscious. I felt someone doing something to my spine, and then everything went fuzzy. My back still hurts like hell. I don’t know what that bastard Du Jiang did to us.”

I cut through the glue sealing Song Yuan’s mouth. This skinny, timid guy burst into tears the moment he could speak. “My God, Zheng Yan, call the police! I don’t want to die! My mom’s waiting for me to come home for wonton soup!”

Xu Meijing quickly hushed him. “Song Yuan, stop crying! Tell us what’s wrong with you.”

“My waist! Something’s wrong with my waist!” He grimaced, indicating his lower back. “Du Jiang must have taken out my bones! The pain’s blinding! He must have removed my bones!”

The spine again. The lumbar spine.

I lifted Song Yuan’s shirt to check his lower back. What I saw made me suck in a sharp breath.

My God.