James Carter took down the piece of paper, leaned against the door and studied it for a while, then asked 154, “For the same candidate, what’s the punishment for a third violation?”

He spoke slowly and unhurriedly, dragging out certain words so that every sentence sounded like a casual provocation.

154: “…There probably won’t be a third time, right?”

“What if there is?”

154 said cautiously, “The punishment is… we’ll invigilate the whole time on site, with special monitoring.”

James Carter: “…………”

The small building was so quiet it was almost scary.

Chapter 6 Hunter A┃I’m a bit hungry, waiting for dinner.

This time, after escorting the candidate back to the cabin, 922 lingered at the door for a while.

After last time, he was really curious what else Brian Baker might do. But within seconds, he bitterly regretted it, because Brian Baker came out.

922 looked helpless: “What is it now?”

Brian Baker: “Just remembered something.”

“What is it?”

“The rules here, are they basically modeled after real exams?”

922 nodded, “Yeah, they’re modeled after them for sure.”

Brian Baker: “There’s one exam rule that wasn’t mentioned.”

922: “Which one?”

“If a candidate encounters a problem, can they also approach the invigilator?”

922: “…Yes.”

But we’d really rather you didn’t.

To avoid trouble, 922 quickly added, “Just like in real exams, you’re not allowed to ask for answers. We won’t help with that, and we can’t help either.”

Brian Baker gave an “mm” to show he understood.

But he was always perfunctory, so this “understood”… 922 was skeptical.

“So if there’s a problem, how do we find you?”

922 said, “Just… use the designated pen, and under the exam requirements on the answer wall, write—”

He was going to say write the invigilator’s number, but his tongue twisted from inner resistance, and what came out was: “Write 001.”

Brian Baker looked at him expressionlessly.

922 repeated innocently, “Yeah, write 001.”

“……”

After what felt like a century, Brian Baker nodded, turned around, and shut him out the door.

922 made a big show of it and went back in high spirits.

……

Inside the cabin.

The fire was still burning strong, and everyone sat clearly divided.

Because of the hidden knife incident, the tattooed man was ostracized, sitting alone at the corner of the table with a sullen face.

Everyone else kept their distance, even going out of their way to avoid him when walking.

When Brian Baker returned, William Baker jumped up.

“Bro! Did the invigilator do anything to you? What was the punishment? Are you okay?”

He waved the answer knife, firing off questions like a machine gun.

Everyone looked over.

Brian Baker frowned and dodged the blade, using his foot to push him further away, saying, “I’m fine.”

“You sure?” William Baker didn’t believe it at all.

He glanced at the corner, lowered his voice and said, “That guy only got caught once and ended up like that. How terrifying must the punishment be?”

Brian Baker looked over at the corner. The bald man who’d been in solitary was curled up there, his eyes yellow and bloodshot, bulging out. He rocked back and forth nervously, muttering something incoherent.

He was clearly scared out of his mind.

Seeing the bald man reminded Brian Baker of that solitary room, and he instantly felt a bit nauseous.

“He’s been like this the whole time?”

“Yeah. Three hours now, hasn’t snapped out of it at all.” William Baker shivered, then whispered, “He’s been muttering nonstop, so I squatted there and listened for a bit.”

“What did he say?”

William Baker shook his head, “I only caught one sentence, ‘bad luck,’ oh, and something about ‘burning joss paper,’ didn’t catch the rest.”

Brian Baker gave an “mm,” not saying more.

“You got punished one more time than him, so how come you seem okay?” William Baker was curious.

Brian Baker didn’t bother explaining, just said perfunctorily, “Different method.”

William Baker: “So what punishments did you get?”

Brian Baker summarized, “Took a nap, delivered a bucket of blood to the invigilator.”

William Baker: “???”

“Why deliver blood to the invigilator?”

Brian Baker replied coldly and sarcastically, “Who knows, maybe he likes it.”

William Baker keenly noticed his brother said “he,” not “they.”

“Which one? Likes that stuff? Is he a pervert?”

Brian Baker: “001.”

William Baker: “Ew…”

……

Brian Baker and the invigilator didn’t get along and didn’t want to talk about it.

He glanced around, frowned, and asked William Baker, “You guys just lazed around for three hours?”

“No way.” William Baker pointed at the answer wall, “Bro, your solution inspired me, so I went and wrote a few words.”

Brian Baker looked at the answer wall.

It was covered in William Baker’s messy scrawl.

Brian Baker: “……”

William Baker said, “Our teacher used to say, write whatever comes to mind. Even if you don’t know the answer, write down your thought process—maybe you’ll get a few points by luck.”

Brian Baker: “So you wrote an essay?”

He tried hard to decipher the messy writing, pointing at one line, “What’s this sentence?”