Friends told me about a confinement challenge, 30 days in a closed space, and they could take half a million.
It was said that the host was very credible and would never play games, so I went.
I didn’t expect it to happen on the eleventh day.
I’ve been in this closed room for 10 days.
There were no windows in the room and the only light came from a light bulb on the top of the head, which remained light for 24 hours and would not go out even to sleep.
The renovation of the room was simple and even plain: four walls were unpaved concrete walls, with a bed, a table, a chair, and a toilet and a hand-washing table.
I have no contact with anyone except for three meals a day.
And if a man lives in such an environment, he will go mad in a few days, and I will go mad.
Because I know that if I live here for 30 days, I’ll get half a million dollars.
That’s right, it’s a confinement challenge.
Six months ago, my good friend Zheng Boven told me that he had found a reliable confinement challenge.
The challenge rule is very simple: one challenge is limited to one person, three meals a day are provided, one conventional item is allowed to be carried, no electronic product is allowed to be carried, no surveillance is provided to ensure privacy.
Listening to the rules, I think it’s a good money opportunity, but it’s a little less trusting for the host.
Because two years ago, this type of confinement challenge was once a vagaries short video platform, and over a long period of time, it was discovered that most of the sponsors had little ethics, and that when the challenger came close to success, the challenger was lured out of the cell early and even directly by the sponsors.
So now, in 2022, the confinement challenge is almost extinct.
But Zheng Boven told me that the confinement challenge he was looking for was absolutely regular, was introduced by his friends and there were real cases of success.
Zheng Boven has many friends and is well informed, and since he says so, most of them are true.
So I moved.
Zheng Boven and I have worked together to start a business, and have failed to make a living, and it would be great if we were to be locked up for 30 days in exchange for nothing.
After discussion, we finally decided that I would take up the challenge.
After the required medical examination, I submitted the application and the medical report to the host ‘ s website.
The application was quickly passed, and a few days later a silver white limousine came downstairs, and a few professionals in a suit threw me in a black hood.
For some time, I was dazed to get out of the car, walked a short distance and was taken to a room.
With a bang, I realized that the iron door closed behind me and reached out and took off the hood.
Looking at this cell, which is only a few square sizes, I have a little fear in my heart, but I think I can get a lot of money in 30 days, and I feel a little happy.
The challenges of confinement began there.
Ten days have passed since the start of the challenge, and I do not feel any discomfort. The three meals are not only rich, but on time, and everything seems to be moving in the right direction, and in twenty days I can take the money and leave.
Who knows, just after lunch on the eleventh day, something happened.
I was sitting in a chair, reading a novel I brought in, and suddenly I heard a strange sound:
“Hey. I’m sorry.
This sound, it scares me.
Those who have not experienced this kind of confinement may not be able to appreciate the experience of living in this silent cell for 10 consecutive days.
But the “hey” just now, it’s obvious someone’s talking.
And it’s a woman’s voice!
I looked in the direction of my voice and found a hole in the wall under the table!
This hole is less than three centimetres in diameter, like a rat hole, in the corner of the wall and the ground, and seems to lead to the other side of the wall.
What’s going on?
“Who are you? * I’m short and I’m looking at that hole.*
“Like you, the people who are here. The woman answered.
Locked up here? A confinement challenge?
Is there another cell on the other side of the wall?
But I remember that the host’s rules clearly stated that there can only be one challenge at a time.
“Are you here to challenge? How long have you lived? I’m a little curious.
It’s only over there, and it’s like, “It’s been years. I’m sorry.
“Aah?”
“I was imprisoned on April 21st, 2020. It’s been about two years.
What do you mean? Isn’t this the holding room for the confinement challenge? You can leave in 30 days. I feel like something’s wrong.
And for a long time, the woman answered, “No, there is only one way for those who enter here to leave, that is death. I’m sorry.
To be honest, that sounds ridiculous.
But I can hear the despair in that voice.
The point is, there’s another man in prison next door to me, and it’s totally unreasonable in itself, and it conflicts with the rules of the organizers!
I didn’t go to talk to the woman next door, but I pulled out the radio from under the bed and moved to the scheduled frequency and started calling, “Boven, are you there?”
Yes, I cheated.
When Zheng Boven and I found out that the rules stated that the room was not equipped with surveillance and recording equipment, we had the thought of cheating: Disassembly the radio walkie-talkie into parts, hidden all over my clothes, brought into the holding room and assembled the parts.
This way, whenever I need help or the host tries to lure me out of the cell, I can get help by radio.
However, the radio has a limited role, and Zheng Boven needs to track my vehicle, locate the host and then fall within the radio.
And now, when I need help most, I must know as soon as possible where I was sent and whether it was really dangerous!
But no matter how many times I called, I didn’t respond to the other side of the walkie.
Did Zheng Boven fail to follow him?
I’m more anxious.
“Who are you talking to?” The woman next door suddenly asked.
“My friend…” I said, “I’m still thinking about getting in touch with the outside world.”
“It’s useless to contact him. He won’t help you. I’m sorry.
I was like, “What do you mean, you know my friend?”
“No, but I know you were sold here by your friends. I’m sorry.
And I became even more puzzled: “What do you mean, what is it that is here?” I’m sorry.
And she was only groaning: “This is the black market of organs, you and I are the suppliers, and when there are people outside who need organ transplants who match with us, we will be taken away, the organs removed, and we will die.” I’m sorry.
“What are you talking about?” I’m sorry.
“Everyone who came here was tricked into it by “friends” on the pretext of “the challenges of confinement.” Think about it. Do you and your friend really know everything? I’m sorry.
She said that, and I thought very carefully that I and JUNG Boven, when we met, had started a business together, but in the end, they were just two years of new friends.
She continued: “Your room has changed for two years. When everyone comes in, in a few days, a little longer than a month, the formula will succeed and be taken, dissected and burned to ashes. I’m sorry.
“No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no.
Seeing that I still don’t believe, she asked me, “Did you have a full medical examination before you came? Especially the blood tests? I’m sorry.
I am silent, indeed.
And she asked, “Did you cover your head when you came here?” Don’t you see? If it was just a confinement challenge, why did you do it? I’m sorry.
Yeah, I thought it was one of the rules of the host, and now I think it’s really wrong!
Suddenly, I thought of a key question: “No. If this is really the black market, why did you stay here for two years? Why didn’t you get an autopsy?”
She smiled: “I have a special blood type, RhD negative, with less than 50 people worldwide. I’m guessing this group looks at my medical report and thinks I can sell my organs for a good price. But it seems that no other RhD negative person needs organ transplants in the last two years, so I’m lucky to be alive. I’m sorry.
I have nothing to say.
I spent the rest of the day in a panic, and the women next door realized that they couldn’t stimulate me any more and didn’t go on.
The more I thought about it in silence, the more I tried to call Zheng Boven, the more I remembered the woman next door, who said that Zheng Boven was probably the person who sold me in, the man who hired me on the black market.
It makes me anxious, unable to sleep.
Until it was too late.
Sun Xu, are you there?
Sun Xu is my name, and the sound on the other side of the radio is Jung Boven!
At this helpless moment, I was relieved to hear the voice of a friend, but I was afraid that he might be the one who betrayed me.
I’ve been thinking about it for a long time, and I’ve pressed the key, “I’m here. I’m sorry.
Great! I’m afraid I can’t reach you. How’s the challenge going? I’m sorry.
I didn’t answer him, but I said, “Why didn’t you answer when I called you during the day?” I’m sorry.
“Ah, I wasn’t on the radio…”
“What are you doing? “I asked straight away.
“I was about to tell you this. I was following you the day you were brought in, and I felt something wrong, so I left for a few days to look into the organizers of the challenge and find out they had problems! I’m sorry.
I didn’t expect such an answer: “What is the question?” I’m sorry.
Zheng Bowen’s tone is a bit low: “The real purpose of this host’s confinement challenge is not to make money, but to experiment.” They’re trying to figure out what would happen if an uninformed person continued to feel pressure in a closed space for 30 days! I’m sorry.
Experiment?
In that case, it would explain why they don’t charge for meals or monitor them, because they don’t have to profit from it…
Zheng Boven went on to say, “As far as I’m concerned, they will not do anything at the beginning of the experiment, and when, in a matter of days, they believe that the challengers are strong enough, they will start to exert pressure by all means to create panic … Have you heard strange voices during this time? I’m sorry.
As soon as I looked at that little hole at the bottom of the wall.
Strange sounds? Pressure?
My heart started playing drums.
Is it true what the woman next door said? It was part of the experiment?
Just to put pressure on me?
It seems from this perspective that there is no evidence of what she said, but it is all one-sided.
Thinking about it further, what organ removal, human traffickers, sounds crazy, doesn’t it?
It seems that in this isolated cell, it is easy to trust others…
I was relieved to think of it, and I replied, “It’s a little weird, but it’s okay. I can handle it. I’m sorry.
Zheng Boven seemed to be relieved, too: “Well, that’s the way it is now — although it’s an experiment, they’ll really pay! You’ll get half a million dollars in moral damages if you stay in there for 30 days. Call me on the radio if you have any problems. I’ll back you up! I’m sorry.
And as soon as I heard that $500,000 was real, I suddenly became full of energy and took care of Zheng Boven, and I ended the conversation.
Put down the walkie-talkie, I’m in bed, I’m not scared, I’m thinking about how to celebrate when I get out.
However, the voice of the woman in the little hole is again ringing:
“Don’t trust him. I’m sorry.
When I heard that sound, I wrinkled my head and turned around.
She’s not asleep? She heard my radio call with Jung Boven?
But then I thought, maybe she’s the one who put pressure on me to observe my reaction, and it’s normal not to sleep at night, after all.
“I already know your experiment. You don’t have to pretend anymore. I’m not saying anything.
She’s not upset. She’s so sweet. Division may have found a patient for your organ transplant, so your friend will give you a radio, calm your emotions, and maybe your life is on countdown. I’m sorry.
“Well, I ask you, if, as you say, my friend is with this group, the group must have known that I have a radio on me.” Why don’t they take it? I’m sorry.
The woman immediately asked, “Who came up with this idea to come in with a radio?” I’m sorry.
I said, “It’s my friend.” I’m sorry.
She said, “That’s right. Almost all of the people in there live for less than a month and are dragged to dig their organs. However, there are also more vulnerable people who, without waiting for tissue to sell their organs, can no longer live in solitary confinement, give up their voices and find themselves unable to leave, and then kill themselves in extreme panic. I’m sorry.
I don’t understand: “What does this have to do with walkies? I’m sorry.
She went on to say, “The suicide of an organ supplier disrupts the business of the organization, so in the last six months, the organization has changed and the traffickers have been induced to bring in a radio walkie. In this way, whatever changes in the mentality of the challenger, timely radio-based mentoring can prevent suicide. You’re not the first person to bring in the radio, and I’ve seen five before you, and everyone has a walkie-talkie, and they believe in that “friend” on the walkie-talkie, and now they’re all dead. I’m sorry.
I feel a little cool behind my neck: “But, don’t the organization worry, do I use the radio to contact others?” I’m sorry.
She lamented: “This is in the mountains, where small radio-to-radio connections are within the control of the organization, and you can only reach your “friends”. I’m sorry.
My heart starts to jump, and everything she says makes sense.
No, no, no.
I realized there was something wrong with what she said: “Hey, aren’t you also brought in under a hood?” How do you know this is a mountain? I’m sorry.
She laughed: “I was born in the mountains, and when I got out of the car with a hood over my head, I heard the sounds of the woods and birds, and I smelled the forest. I’m sorry.
I’m speechless, I’m heartless.
She saw me not to believe, and said: “If you do not believe me, give up, will you go out?” I’m sorry.
When I heard that, I was so bright, I realized something.
She’s trying to talk me out of it!
Is it because I knew this was a stress experiment in advance that this woman next door thought I had no experimental value and tried to trick me into giving up?
In that case, they could save half a million in compensation or nearly 20 days of ineffective experiment time!
I laughed, “I won’t fall for it.” I’m sorry.
After that, I turned to lie down and slept, and the woman next door didn’t speak, but groaned.
The next day, the woman still wanted to talk to me, and I didn’t respond as if I didn’t hear her.
But in the afternoon, she said something that made it impossible for me to pretend I couldn’t hear:
“I’m dying. I’m sorry.
No one can be unresponsive to that.
I thought about it or answered her: “What do you mean?” I’m sorry.
Her low voice came back, as if yesterday’s frowned, as if something had been stuck in her throat: “In lunch, there was my favorite chicken burger.” I’m sorry.
I was like, “What’s wrong with that?” I’m sorry.
Her voice began to tremble: “The only human nature of this organization is that they allow the suppliers to eat a full meal before they die, so in the application form they will let you fill in your favorite food, and they will meet your wishes the day before the transplant…”
I remembered that there was one on the application, and I filled out a Beijing duck.
Is she trying to deceive me?
I haven’t been waiting for me to say anything. Invisible, I heard a whimp.
And then the sound grew and slowly became a whisper.
She cried.
When I realized that, my heart began to waver.
Cry, of course.
But like her, I don’t feel like a lie when it comes to depressed, lamenting tears and crying despair and regret.
I don’t know what to say.
Stop pretending? Or to comfort her not to cry?
It doesn’t seem appropriate…
After a while, her cry became smaller: “My name is Ho.” I’m sorry.
My name is Sun Xu. I’m sorry.
And then she started to whisper, like she said to me and to herself.
From these words, I see a poor girl who regrets everything.
Ho Chiu was born in a poor and backward mountain village, and before high school she was a very good kid with good academic results.
But when she came to the city’s university and watched her fellow students dress up in a beautiful fashion, she eventually developed a sense of comparison and jealousy, which coincided with the prevalence of school mortgages, and she could not resist the temptation to carry a debt of interest at a young age.
With money on his hands, he became increasingly ashamed of himself and of the parents who raised her. On one occasion, when her parents came out of the village and came to the school with a big bag of mountain goods, she felt that she had lost face in front of her classmates and drove her parents back.
In the end, the money borrowed will have to be paid back, and after a while, it will be impossible to live a good life, even after all the hours of school hours, without a loan, and with the eyes of his classmates.
Finally, Ho was forced to drop out of school, just as the challenges of confinement prevailed at the time, and Ho came here after a “friend” introduced him.
Two years later, she was about to die.
“I know I should have died, and for two years I’ve watched so many people taken away and killed, and that’s what I deserve, and I thought I was ready… But now I don’t want to die. I want my mom and dad.”
I can tell that Ho’s face is covered with regret and fear.
“…is there any way out? I asked a question softly.
But the next second, I want to slap myself — if there’s a way out, why is she here for two years?
He did not answer, but fell into silence.
After a while, she re-opened: “Can I look at you?” I’m sorry.
Her voice suddenly became clear, as if it was close to the little hole that connected our two rooms.
What do you mean?
I heard her smile, “I want to see what the last friend of my life looks like before I die.” I’m sorry.
“…good. I’m sorry.
I moved the table, lying down on the ground, not too far from the little hole, and put my face on the ground as far as possible, looking at the other side of the hole.
He did the same thing, so I saw a part of her face.
Light nostrils, a big eye that shines out of tears, and a skin that is white because two years without sunlight.
It’s only a fraction of what I can see, but it’s a beautiful girl, probably less than 22 years old, still at the best of times.
“You look so good…” I looked her in the eye, and I couldn’t help but say it.
I’m just laughing at you.
And then, my vision was blocked by something that seemed to have blocked the little hole.
“Let me touch you…” What do you mean?
That’s when I realized what it was.
The walls of the cell are so thick that both of us have reached their fingers and have just touched each other’s fingers.
I can feel her cold fingers shaking, filled with fear of death.
“Thank you, Sun Xu. I’m sorry.
And I pull back my finger, and I feel it, and it’s cold and shaking, and it’s still at the top of my finger.
So long, I stood up and went straight to the door, banging on the heavy iron door: “Forget! I give up the challenge! Let me out!
Am I into something? Is she acting?
It’s out of my mind.
Rather, I now hope that this is all an act, so that someone will open the iron door and tell me that the challenge has failed, and that Ho will come out of the next room and laugh at me and say, “You’re being fooled.” I’m sorry.
So she doesn’t have to die.
But that didn’t happen.
No matter how loud I knocked on the door, how loud I was, how loud I was not heard, I was reminded that I didn’t seem to see how to give up the rules in the official web.
In other words, it’s a place where you can’t “leave the challenge.”
My heart began to sink and everything was moving in that worst direction.
So I went back to my bed, pulled out my radio and started calling Jung Boven.
As long as he’s a human being, there’s room for negotiation. There’s always a way to solve the problem. There’s always a way to keep me and Ho-hoon alive.
There’s always a way!
But whatever I call, there’s always silence on the walkie-talkie.
Zheng Boven disappeared again.
“Tomorrow the sound of this room may frighten you, but don’t make a sound, don’t let them find this little hole, perhaps you can use it to communicate with the next neighbor. I’m sorry. “The sound of Zhu’s voice suddenly resonates.
She seems to have taken her life.
But I don’t understand what the last word “sorry” means.
But I didn’t have time to think about it, and I started to adjust the frequency while trying to find other walkie-talkies in the radio.
“Although you say the whole mountain is under organizational control, perhaps there are explorers who come to this deep mountain? I’ll be in touch with them soon. If they call the police, the police can rescue us by tomorrow! Don’t worry!”
I have no more words, but I have been sweating and tuned to try to find that almost impossible dawn, both for what sake and for myself.
Bang!
I suddenly heard a loud sound, followed by a squeaky ear opening, which came from inside the hole.
The iron door in Ho’s room is open!
What’s going on? Isn’t that genius?
I stopped all the moves on my hands, and I couldn’t even breathe in the atmosphere, and I listened quietly to what happened.
Because Ho told me not to speak out, not to be found.
I heard footsteps, heavy, like men, and iron chains dragging on the ground.
I heard the crotch’s panting gets heavy.
Nobody talks.
All of a sudden, there was an intense footsteps, followed by a collision of the body, accompanied by the cries of Ho and the humming of the mysterious man.
Looks like a fight!
Yes… yes!
It’s the perfect time to escape when they’re about to be taken away and killed, because only then will the iron door open! Just take out the captors and get out of the cell!
I can’t help but hide why I’m refueling.
However, the fighting did not last long, and I heard a man’s whispering, as if he had suffered, immediately followed by the scream of what had torn his heart apart.
Then I heard heavy objects falling on the floor, once, twice, three times…
As more times fall, the sound becomes more and more adhesive, like the sound of flesh and blood colliding with the ground.
At the same time, the screams in the mouth of Ho Ho are getting weaker.
I kept my mouth shut and didn’t want to believe my guess… He seems to have been thrown on the concrete again and again because he has provoked men.
After the last fall, the man stopped moving and was breathing and the chain was ringing, as if he was ready to take away the dying one.
At this point, the sound of a weak voice was: “I want to see my parents, if I go out, let me see my parents…”
That sound was close, it seemed to be near that little hole.
She’s talking to me!
I gnawed my teeth, tried to get down and wanted to look in that little hole.
All of a sudden, a round thing rolls out of the hole, with a long silk, and it rolls over the ground, leaving a light red blood trail.
That thing rolled into my eyes, and the pupils were right in my eyes.
It’s Ho’s eyeball!
My legs were soft, my hands were on the ground, and my hands were tightly covered in my mouth, so that I could not shout, and my eyes were filled with tears of fear and sorrow.
Ho’s resistance ends in failure.
Soon, I heard the man take away with a chain what he knew was dead or alive, and what he kept whispering in his mouth, which seemed dissatisfied with the job.
When the man left, I did not hear the iron door closing, and after a while another person entered the next room.
When I heard the sound of water and the rinsing of the ground, I realized that, as a result of the series of conflicts that had just occurred, the room was now being cleaned by the cleaners.
When the room was cleaned, the cleaners withdrew from the next door and closed the iron door to make sure no one heard my voice, I dropped my hand over my mouth.
But at this time I can’t cry and there is nothing left but sorrow and fear.
Looking at the eyeball before me, I cannot help but speculate about what just happened, and perhaps in some way, it caused harm to the captors and caused them to rip out their eyes in a hurry.
Or, why did he fall and die and cut his own eyes off while the captors were making chains?
Anyway, I remember what she said before she died: “I want to see my parents, if I go out I want to see my parents…”
She put her eyeball on my side so I could take it out and see her parents.
But how can I do that?
I’m just like her. I’m a fish that’s being slaughtered on the tablet.
Even so, I reached out with a hand, shivering to pick up the eye, afraid to look much, and stuffed it in my pocket.
A few hours ago, the eyeball was still in the eyes of its master, and we looked at it, and I said it was beautiful.
And now…
Thinking of it, I covered my face, whispered, cried.
The tears flow both for the cause and for the same fate that I am about to suffer.
It was only late in the night, after more than 10 hours, that I barely stabilized myself in bed and began to think about what to do next.
There is no doubt that the only breakthrough point is Zheng Boven.
According to Ho, he’s the man who sold me in. He’s not trustworthy.
But he’s the only person I can get in touch with right now.
After two years of living with us, I believe that he is still a human being and that, as long as he is a human being, there is a sense of emotion and guilt, and that is the only possibility that I will escape my life.
Convince him to take me out, no matter what, no matter what, I can’t die here!
So, I took out the radio and switched the frequency to the number that Zheng Boven and I agreed to.
Sun Xu, can you hear me? Sun Xu! Sun Xu!
In a moment, Zheng Boven’s loud call came to me.
I pressed the call button to cover JUNG Boven’s voice and whispered, “I’m here, keep your voice down! I’m sorry.
Zheng Bo Wen heard my response, “Sun Xu! What happened to you? How did you cut the frequency? I can’t reach you!”
I am silent.
It was because of a trafficker like Zheng Boven that my tone was insolent: “What is wrong with you?” I’m sorry.
Zheng Boven seems to have not heard my tone: “Now that things are urgent, let me be brief.” I asked my friend to continue my investigation into the host, and he called me on an urgent basis, saying he found a challenger and asked me more about the experiment, which was more than just a test pressure! Do you know where that challenger lives now? Psychiatric hospital! I’m sorry.
Is he still trying to trick me?
But it’s not like he’s lying to me.
Zheng Boven continued, saying, “He is sober and confused, and he has a serious tendency towards violence.” According to his sobering remarks, the ultimate purpose of this experiment was not to test changes in stress over a period of 30 days, but to test how long it took to destroy a person from zero! There’s no 30-day deadline! The host will exert more and more excitement on you, from the initial stress to the bloody violent information behind you, and will even release gas to you from another room through a small hole in the wall and floor. Until you get mad! I’m sorry.
Listening to Zheng Boven, I don’t know what to do.
The death of Ho Chiu had already convinced me that she was true, but Zheng Boven had shaken me again.
The most important thing is that Zheng Boven refers to a small hole in the gas emissions, which seems to mean the little hole I saw with Ho.
The organization should be unaware of the existence of the little hole, and Zheng Boven, as an accomplice to the organization, will not know.
But now Zheng Boven has clearly indicated where the hole is.
Is it true that Ho is dead?
“…I’ve already called the police, they’re on their way to you, and they’re guessing that there might be obstacles, so let me tell you, if you hold on for a day, they’ll be able to save you. Do you hear me? Don’t get mad! I’m sorry.
When I came back, I heard that from Jung Boven.
Did you call the police?
“I see. Don’t worry. After that, I cut off communications from Zheng Boven’s concerns.
In that case, I do not need to doubt Zheng Boven any longer, and if he is a trafficker and wants to stabilize me, there is no need for such an impossible lie.
One day later, I can certainly prove his innocence if I can be rescued by the police.
But there’s another problem: the eye.
I looked up and looked at the clothes on the table, and the eyes were in the pocket.
If Ho’s death is a play, then the eye will not be hers, but will it come from some pig’s head?
You want to check it out?
I’m so murmured that I want to go ahead, but I don’t dare.
So I hesitated to take a look at that little hole that sent my eyeball.
And then I noticed that the hole had a strange bump.
What’s that?
I got up from my bed, crouched down close to the little hole, and saw that thing clearly — it seemed like a roller-up note.
Speaking of which, since the eyeballs came out of the small hole, my attention was focused on the eyeballs, ignoring the small hole.
Now think about it, that little hole is so deep, it’s not easy to roll over, it’s easy to get stuck in the middle.
This curled-up note could have pushed the eye.
I reached out, grabbed the prominent part of the note, gently pulled it out.
And spread out the note, and I found some blood on it, and in the middle of the note, there was a thin iron cone with about one hand in hand, with dry blood on the tip.
I looked up.
It’s a weapon!
I was busy looking at the note, and all I saw was that it was a secret line:
I should have died when you saw this note. If there’s no accident, there should be an iron cone with a note. The cone was brought in by a man who once lived in your room, who, having learned the truth from me, lost his will to survive, but he gave it to me and told me that, on the day I was to be taken away, he wished I could kill each other with it and escape. In the year that followed, I saw countless people killed through a small hole, many of whom were strong and dared to fight the captors. If I had passed the cone out of a small hole, perhaps they would have escaped. I was too selfish to save myself with this cone, so I didn’t give it to them, and in a sense I killed them. Now, my favorite food is in lunch, and maybe I’ll finally have a chance to try this cone. I promise you, if I get out of here, I’ll get the police back to save you. And if I fail, I’ll give you the iron cone as much as I can, if you can. I’m sorry I was so selfish I wanted to see Mom and Dad
After reading this note, or a suicide note, my hands trembled and my tears fell.
No wonder…
That’s why he cried and said, “I should have died.” That’s what I deserve. I’m sorry.
Turns out that she had in her hands weapons that could resist at a critical time and was always blaming herself for failing to send them to the victim in the next room.
On that day, when she fought with the captors, she was afraid that the cone had been used to hurt her, leading to more violent violence.
After failing, she put eyeballs, notes, iron cones through small holes.
She’s not selfish. She’s just too kind to see anyone die before her.
Thinking of this, I look at the iron cone in my hand, and it seems that this year, the cone has been grinding, and it’s sharp.
No problem!
When I’m going to be taken away, I’m going to be able to kill the man who took him and run away.
Wait…
Is this some kind of psychological pressure?
No, it’s not! Why send me such a dangerous weapon if it is to exert psychological pressure?
Zheng Boven said that the challenge winner he had identified had become extremely violent, and was this cone a tool to induce me to be violent?
In a moment, I don’t know who to believe, and countless questions and evidence have surrounded me and have caused me a headache.
The brain seems to be split into two people, one believing in Zheng Boven and the other in Ho.
Boo!
And just as I was dazzled about it, a familiar voice came out.
That’s under the iron door, the rectangle.
But now, a few hours before breakfast the next day, why did you suddenly bring food?
I shaked my head, approached the iron door, looked at it, and it was a bowl of roasted ducks, scalded with meat and with sauce, cucumber onions, pancakes.
I feel a bang in my head.
This is what I wrote on my application: “The favorite food.”
I’m dying in one day!
I held the cone in my hand, leaning on my bed, staring closely at the iron door and ignoring the tempting roast duck.
For me now, it’s not a roast duck, it’s a sickle of death!
This is not one of three meals, but a late-night extra meal.
That means they can’t wait to take me away.
Is there a serious patient who suddenly needed my organs so they brought me this last meal?
Yes, it’s a great possibility, and it was soon after the favorite food was eaten.
Now, it’s been about half an hour since the duck arrived, and there’s nothing going on out there, which makes me feel so bad.
My brain is moving so fast that the words of Ho Chiu and Jung Boven echo back and forth and bombard my senses.
Finally, after not knowing how long, almost in the early hours of the morning, I heard a small sound coming from the iron door.
I can hear it when I’m completely focused. It’s the sound of a man touching the doorknob.
I slowly rose from my bed, relaxing my muscles like a leopard.
I heard the doorknob.
I think in my heart, “Why revenge?”
I heard the lock.
I suddenly thought, “Did they send me my favorite food in the middle of the night after I died? Could this be part of the experiment?
I heard the door handle turn.
I shook my head: No, it must be firm, and if it were to shake, I would lose the chance to escape!
I heard the iron door slowly opening.
And I’m thinking, “So far, no one has hurt me, and I’m going up there and I’m going to stab, and I’m not really going crazy and I’m going to make that crazy experiment work.
Finally, the iron door opens.
At this point, the two little people in my head, who still believe in Ho Chiu-kun, have taken over.
And We carried up the iron cone, and went up, and cried out like an animal.
Then I saw the people at the door.
I stopped.
To my surprise, the man at the door was not a man with chains in his head, but a skinny man in a wheelchair whose face was pale and his lips shivering and who would appear to be alive soon.
When I ran towards him, his eyes were startled and then ecstasy, as if they were about to be freed.
I… am I going to kill this disabled man in a wheelchair?
I only listen to the sound of “scramble” and my neck hurts.
Look carefully, a bodyguard standing behind a wheelchair man carrying something like an anesthesia gun.
Then I didn’t know anything.
Again, the curtains are painted with white ceilings, and the air smells of disinfectant water.
Hospital?
I’m being transplanted?
Or did they drive me crazy?
I’m trying to move my neck, and I’m trying to move my eyes to my side and see where I am.
“Don’t move. You can’t move now. “A doctor in a white coat suddenly appeared in sight, he gently held my neck, and he spoke softly.
I tried to speak, but I made a voice that I didn’t even know.
The doctor noded: “Yes, the heart transplant was a success, and you passed out for days, but now that you’re awake, it’s not a problem. I’m sorry.
Heart transplant? Did I get my heart removed? Then why am I still alive?
I don’t get it: “What are you talking about? I’m sorry.
When I heard that, the doctor’s face became a little confused: “Mr. Shen Peng, will you not lose your memory?” No, no, no, no.
Master Shen?
Me?
In that moment, my head broke, as if all my memories were in my mind.
And the next moment, I understood everything, and the tears were pouring out of my eyes.
Everything I’ve been through, whether it’s a confinement challenge, or Zheng Boven, Ho. All my dreams during my coma came from the memory of Sun Xu, the owner of the heart that was beating in my chest.
And I, not Sun Wuk.
I’m Shen Peng.
My father, Chairman of the Shen Medical Group, was behind the black market.
In the first two decades of my life, I lived a safe and happy life, until I was 20 years old, and I was examined for serious heart defects, and the doctor said I would have lived for less than a year without a transplant.
The day after the test results came out, my father, who was so bright, took me to a secret facility and started to make me a pair and find the right heart.
I am not a fool, looking at what is happening before me, and I understand that the father of the doctor, the Savior, whose true identity is the devil who sells and sells his organs to enrich his family.
So I refused.
My father persuaded me to tell me that if I waited for the supply according to standard procedures, I would probably die before the transplant.
And I said I’d rather die if I wanted to live by taking people’s lives.
My father was a tough man who gave me an ultimatum: even if I wanted to hate him for the rest of my life, he must let me live.
After that, I was locked in that facility, and a man was responsible for my food and living, while watching over me and preventing me from committing suicide.
Finally, not long ago, the father was given what he wanted, and found a successful heart supplier — Sun Xue — who matched me.
When I saw my father’s happy and bitter smile, I compromised.
I know that I can’t resist him when I’m already in a wheelchair, so I’m only asking a little: Before the transplant, let me see the poor man who is about to die because of me.
So I was taken to Sun Xu’s room.
The moment I opened the door, I accidentally saw him run at me like a madman with a sharp instrument.
I have to say, it was the most beautiful moment of my life, and I just wanted to remember this poor man, but I didn’t think that he could rise up hope in the end and end my life.
Unfortunately, he failed to do what I wanted, and the bodyguard behind me shot and stopped him.
His heart, then became my heart.
Interestingly, in the field of organ transplants, there is a phenomenon that many doctors and scientists cannot explain. – Modern science believes that memory and personality are determined by the brain, but many patients with heart transplants wake up with very similar personality and even memory to that of the supplier, as if the heart had memory.
This is also happening to me, and in the days following the transplantation of Sun Xu’s heart, I was in a deep coma, going through what he had been through before he died.
It didn’t end until the imaginary “I” saw the real “I” sitting in a wheelchair outside the iron door.
But Sun Xu’s memories, his personality, and his tumultuous emotions are all in my chest, even now that I have recovered my memory as Shen Peng.
My constant feelings of regret and weeping, Sun Xu’s fear and anger, and their hatred of organ buyers and sellers have left me with tears.
Master Shen, are you okay? I’m sorry.
By the time I came back, I was filled with squealing doctors and nurses and a familiar figure.
And I opened my mouth towards it: “Father, thank you, I am all right. I’m sorry.
And the devil opened his mouth and rejoiced in my submission and my health: “Good son, good son!” I’m sorry.
Soon after, I recovered from being in good health, without having to sit in a wheelchair or even be as strong as a heart-changing patient.
My relationship with my father has greatly improved, and I will no longer go against his mind, nor pursue my dream, but I am fully committed to the learning task of taking over the family enterprise.
Everything’s going well, and there’s only one thing that matters to me: what a lost eyeball.
I went back to the black market for organs and asked the staff there, who said Sun Xu’s clothes had been disposed of long ago, and no eyeballs had been checked in his pocket.
It’s always got me thinking, maybe when the day comes, I’ll have to think of something else…
News of June 21, 2026
The Shen Medical Group is in a scandal!
According to information received, the chairman of the group, Shen Boon, son of Shen Tianwen, had taken over the group for a month and had voluntarily provided the police with all the group ‘ s criminal records. No more serious than his father, Shen Astronomer, runs an underground black market for more than a decade.
The police had conducted a full investigation into the matter, and all the family members of the registered victims had received substantial compensation, Shen Peng had personally signed all the compensation and subsequently committed suicide, and the suicide note indicated that he had donated all his body organs free of charge.
According to Xiaodo, Shen Peng’s body was missing an eyeball, but not as a result of suicide. A few days before his death, Shen Peng had gone to a mountain village and had since been blindfolded and presumed to have been missing at that time.
Police investigations have shown that the village is the home of the family of a female victim in the black market for organs, and it is assumed that Shen Peng has some particular intention and that a search of the eyeball is under way, although it is expected to have little impact on the case.
Record number: YXX18KLJRIRX6y8M4ec9r9z
I don’t know.
Keep your eyes on the road.
