The group outside the room tensed nervously—this was their first time voluntarily participating in the game.


    "Qi Xia," Lin Qin called out.


    "What is it?"


    "You once said different animals represent different types of games, right?"


    "Likely."


    Lin Qin glanced at the Rat-Human in front of them and whispered, "What do you think a ''Rat Game'' entails?"


    Qi Xia had been pondering the same question. Without knowing the game type in advance, Tian Tian would be at a severe disadvantage. But what did "Rat" symbolize?


    "Judging by the current setup, it fits a rat''s nature—searching for a target amidst clutter," Qi Xia muttered. "Could ''Rat'' mean a scavenger hunt?"


    <hr>


    Inside the room, Tian Tian scanned the space. Rows of shelves stacked with hundreds of cardboard boxes filled the cramped warehouse. She opened one at random—junk spilled out. Even if she tore through every box in five minutes, finding the elusive Dao seemed impossible.


    Her eyes drifted to the lone fluorescent light overhead. Its switch sat on the wall beside her.


    An idea struck her.


    With a grunt, she shoved a shelf over. It crashed to the floor with a thunderous boom.


    "Hey! You alright in there, lass?" Qiao Jiajin shouted from outside.


    "I’m fine!" Tian Tian yelled back. "Just testing a theory!"


    Qi Xia nodded. "Smart move."


    The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    "Eh?" Qiao Jiajin blinked. "You two sharing telepathic martial arts secrets or what?"


    Inside, Tian Tian toppled every shelf. Boxes burst open, spewing plastic dishes, old clothes, and crumpled paper across the floor. She stomped remaining containers flat until the room resembled a typhoon’s aftermath. Panting, she flicked off the light.


    Darkness swallowed the room. Tian Tian frowned—the Dao supposedly glowed faintly. Why couldn’t she see even a flicker? She kicked through debris, widening her search. Nothing.


    Thump-thump-thump.


    The Rat-Human rapped on the door. "Ten seconds left."


    Defeated, Tian Tian turned the light back on. Canned goods—previously hidden in boxes—now littered the floor. She picked one up: Beans glared from the label. A shake produced sandy rattles.


    "Damn it!" She hurled the can. "It’s in these tins?!"


    The door creaked open. "Time’s up. Challenge failed."


    The Rat-Human’s grotesque face loomed as the trio rushed forward.


    "Any luck?" Qiao Jiajin asked.


    Tian Tian shook her head. "The Dao must be sealed inside a can. No way to open dozens barehanded in five minutes..."


    Qi Xia studied the bean tins. Plausible—yet something felt off.


    As Tian Tian retreated, the Rat-Human simply closed the door and resumed guard.


    "She really just takes a Dao?" Tian Tian whispered. "No life-or-death stakes?"


    The Rat-Human smirked. "When did I mention lives?"


    Qiao Jiajin brightened. "Oi, Scammer! Let’s try again! Now that we know the trick—"


    "Wait." Qi Xia blocked him, eyeing their lone remaining Dao. These glowing orbs were both rewards and bargaining chips. Squandering them here might doom future games.


    "Confirming rules," Qi Xia said coldly to the Rat-Human.


    "Of course!" She reopened the door.


    The room had reset—shelves pristine, boxes stacked neatly.


    "Bloody hell!" Qiao Jiajin gaped.


    "My game’s called Dao Hunt," the Rat-Human crooned. "Pay one Dao to enter. Find the hidden Dao in five minutes, and it’s yours. Play as often as you like."


    Qi Xia stepped forward.


    "I’ll play again." His voice hardened. "This time—I bet my life."