Chapter 3: Slaughter Forest (Part 1)
As a survivor of the A380 aviation trip, Jasper Locke also received the invitation to the "Maze Journey."
I wanted to talk him out of getting involved in this mess again, but Old Jasper had been haunted by Shiva's death. He was kicking himself for missing the chance to study such a perfect psychological case, so this time, he was determined to join.
I couldn't dissuade him. His questions matched ours—even exceeded ours.
Human beings are curious creatures by nature. That curiosity was the root of all this tragedy, stamped from the very first moment our ancestors looked up at the stars.
Fifteen days later, a helicopter dispatched by Headquarters deposited us on the Nazca Plateau in southern Peru.
There were eight passengers on this helicopter, all survivors from the aviation trip. Other contestants would arrive separately.
Looking down through the window at the vast, almost vegetation-free expanse below, I saw strange lines crisscrossing the landscape—patterns forming shapes like monkeys, spiders, birds, and whales, as if a giant had used the earth as a canvas.
"These are the Nazca Lines," Jasper explained, noticing my fascination. "One of the world's great unsolved mysteries. These massive geoglyphs are hundreds of meters long, only visible from high altitudes. Scientists still can't agree on who made them or why."
I knew a bit about the Nazca Lines already. "Could they be human-made?"
Jasper shook his head. "These lines date back to around 300 BC—over two thousand years. Never mind the society's primitive production capabilities—if modern people tried to create these without aerial coordination, it would be nearly impossible. Unless whoever made them had helicopters."
"So who do you think created them?"
"Giants? Extraterrestrials?" He shrugged. "Or perhaps there really was a race of beings whose intelligence and abilities far surpassed modern humans—super-humans, if you will. Except this race went extinct during evolution."
I felt a chill. "If such a superior race existed, why would they be eliminated?"
Jasper laughed and gave me a look that said I was being naive. "Ryan, superiority doesn't guarantee survival. Evolution actually prunes away branches that grow too long. Ultimately, this is a world of mediocrity. Think about rats and cockroaches—are they advanced? Yet they're among the most evolutionarily successful species on earth."
I gazed out the window in silence, unsure how to judge any of this.
The helicopter began its descent. The Nazca Lines dissolved into a series of irregular trenches cutting across the landscape, like a maze. "Headquarters" had chosen this location for a reason.
After landing, Morphine met us—sunglasses, driving a rugged Jeep, waiting at the landing site. Beside her stood the martial monk skilled in the Iron Bell technique.
"Where's the other one?" I asked.
"Injuries too severe. Didn't make it." She sighed, then placed a hand on my chest. "Don't you die on me either. After all, you're the man I'm betting on."
"Get your hands off him," Selene said coldly, walking up. "Touch him again and I'll break your fingers."
Morphine pulled her hand back with a shrug. "Better watch your man. This trip is no walk in the park."
We drove for another dozen kilometers across the barren plateau until, rising from the desolation like a mirage, appeared a magnificent hotel—the kind that looked like it belonged on a six-star resort. From the outside alone, it was clear: this place cost a fortune.
"Headquarters property," Morphine said, pointing. "Best hotel in all of South America. Also the starting point for this trip."
The hotel was a surreal sight—a luxury establishment plopped in the middle of nowhere. Such wasteful extravagance spoke volumes about Headquarters' unfathomable resources.
Inside, the grand lobby was already crowded with over sixty people. Aside from survivors from the aviation trip, there were new faces—winners from other Death Trips, cherry-picked for this stage.
The atmosphere in the lobby was tense. Murderous intent practically hung in the air. Every high-level contestant regarded the others with suspicion and caution. In a few hours, they'd be trying to kill each other.
Morphine stepped forward and clapped. "Everyone, no need to be so tense. This trip is different from the others. You won't need to fight each other—instead, you'll need to cooperate."
This caused a minor stir.
As she spoke, the floor trembled with a mechanical grinding sound. The smooth marble walls shifted, revealing hidden mechanisms—panels rotating and sliding like a giant puzzle.
When the mechanisms stopped, nineteen electronic doors had appeared along the lobby's walls. Next to each door was a round button with a number.
"Let me explain the rules," Morphine said, clearing her throat. "There are fifteen doors—the entrances to the maze. Once inside, you'll need to choose your direction at each intersection. Choose correctly and you'll eventually find the exit. Choose incorrectly, and you'll go deeper."
"Each door has a button. If you choose the correct direction, the button turns green. If you choose incorrectly, it turns red. Here's the catch: there's no going back. Once you open a door, the one behind you locks permanently. You can only go forward through the maze, never backward."
"Each room contains clues to help you find the correct path. But pay attention—each room has a time limit. If the countdown expires before you make your choice, the room will be flooded with laser beams that will cut through anything inside."
Murmurs rippled through the crowd. Someone asked: "So if you don't make it out of the maze, you're eliminated?"
Morphine smiled. "We've run simulations. If you choose correctly every time, you can complete the maze in about 90 minutes. With two wrong choices, it takes roughly 120 minutes. But with too many wrong choices, the time becomes impossible to estimate. The total time limit for the Maze Journey is 150 minutes. Exceed that, and the entire maze fills with lasers."
The crowd gasped.
In other words, anyone who didn't make it out in 150 minutes would be sliced to pieces.
This was elimination in its truest sense—not forfeiture, not surrender, but death.
Brutal. This was a genuine Death Journey.
Facing the stunned crowd, Morphine continued smiling: "Of course, the course is difficult, but the rewards are generous. Anyone who completes the maze receives seven million yuan and is invited to visit Headquarters, where you'll experience the ultimate mystery of this world—a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity."
Someone raised their hand. "This trip is too cruel. I want to withdraw. Can I?"
"Of course. Feel free." Morphine made a "please" gesture toward the exit. "Those who wish to leave, our staff will escort you back. I'll give everyone five minutes to decide."
The lobby buzzed with anxious whispers. Eventually, about a dozen people chose to leave, casting reluctant glances back as they walked out.
"Have you decided?" I looked at Selene and Old Jasper. "Are we continuing?"
Selene said nothing, but I understood her resolve—once she'd made up her mind, nothing would change it.
Old Jasper looked like he wanted to throw up, but he forced composure. "Ryan, we're allies, right? If we live, we live together. If we die, we die together..."