Congratulations on Your Successful Escape

Chapter 30

Mo Yi sized up the “carpet” that had previously covered the floor.

The structure was compact and extremely solid when stepped on, so much so that it was impossible to differentiate it from the normal floor. The wooden texture on it was so remarkably true to life that in such a dimly lit environment, it was almost impossible to distinguish it from the aforementioned floor.

Exquisite workmanship, Mo Yi commented silently in his heart.

It was not at all in the same league as this orphanage where even the walls were crooked.

The haze of doubts and suspicion at the bottom of his heart were amassing, getting more and more deep.

Mo Yi rolled up the carpet while turning to look at the iron trapdoor on the ground.

The flat iron trapdoor glinted with a slight chill under the dim light. There were no superfluous decorations on it and was smooth and flat. Only on one side was there something similar to a handle laying in the middle of a groove on the floor.

The handle had a decades old large and heavy lock on it which appeared to have been forcefully damaged, already broken apart.

Mo Yi tentatively stretched out his hand and exerted his strength, moving the moderately heavy lock, and then gripped the handle, lifting it up —

The iron trapdoor opened silently.

A damp, gloomy, and cold odour carrying the scent of dust and something rotten drifted out of the door.

Mo Yi was caught off guard and coughed a few times.

He stretched out the hand holding onto the turned-on flashlight to illuminate the hidden passage.

After the iron trapdoor covering it was lifted, the pitch-dark passage entrance was exposed. Layers upon layers of stairs extended its way inside to the bottom, leading into the the darkness of the unknown.

The beam of light from the flashlight couldn’t penetrate the heavy darkness underground, only able to illuminate the first layer of steps at most.

There was a thick coating of dust around. It had obviously been quite a long time since anyone had set foot in there.

Mo Yi rummaged through his backpack and wedged a small clip between the iron trapdoor to prevent it from suddenly falling down after he entered.

Then, he crouched down and very carefully went down the stairs step by step.

The turbid air that had been sealed underground for a long time filled his nasal passages. His footsteps brought up a cloud of dust, dispersing in the gloomy and cold air as it flew, dancing scatteredly in front the beam of the flashlight.

The flight of steps under his feet were narrow and endless, and the deeper one went, the darker it grew.

The light passing by overhead was getting thinner and weaker, hardly able to penetrate into the narrow basement, leaving only a vague outline when one’s head was raised.

Finally, Mo Yi’s feet hit the ground.

He left the stairs and tentatively walked a few steps forward, moving around the flashlight in his hand and tried to clearly see where he was situated.

The light coming from the flashlight roamed around the underground space, sketching an indistinct and unclear outline.

Mo Yi narrowed his eyes, deep in thought.

This place was a lot bigger than he thought it would be.

Just then, the flashlight seemed to illuminate a long string dangling in a corner. Mo Yi walked over in the dark, stretched out his hand, and lightly pulled at it.

The light came on, illuminating the entire basement.

The place was very vast with a structurally tight and airtight ceiling dome shielding the underground space. The walls were perfectly straight and sturdy, devoid of wallpaper, exposing hard rocks covered in dirt and water stains brought about by being in a cold and gloomy moist underground space. The ground was also rough with gravel. One could hear the minute sound of friction coming forth from beneath the soles of ones feet when stepping on it.

The most ghastly and shocking sight were the densely packed small beds.

They nearly filled the entire space. As if to save space, the small beds were placed extremely close together, leaving almost no space in-between, closely arranged one by one.

And across from these small beds, directly opposite from this room, was a half-closed wooden door.

Mo Yi gave a cursory sweep of the entire room and silently counted: This room alone had more than 150 small beds, enough to accommodate the same number of children.

He wedged his legs into the gap between the beds and walked forward cautiously. After reaching the end of the room, Mo Yi then slightly stretched out his legs and feet, and let out a long sigh of relief.

He walked towards the door and pushed it open, finding the same string for the light dangling in a corner.

After a slight pull, the overhead light hummed a few times, then flickered and lit up, illuminating the whole room.

Mo Yi couldn’t help but draw in a cold breath.

This room, like the one in front of it, also had an astonishing number of small beds.

However, the only difference was that the walls of this room were sprayed with an alarming amount of brown bloodstains, having accumulated and overlapped until it had almost turned into a deep black, congealing and drying into ghastly marks on the walls.

There were traces of bullet holes on the wall.

On each small bed were varying amounts of blood on the dirty mats, which looked extremely tragic.

It was like … a massacre took place here.

A stale rotten stench permeated the room, causing one to feel nauseous.

Mo Yi calmed down, only to realize that there were several small rooms in this tragic room.

There were signs on all of them — “Dean’s Room”, “Caregivers Room”, “Utility Room”, and so on.

Mo Yi suddenly came to a realization.

He finally figured out why the types of rooms above ground were so few, and why the public area was built so carelessly.

The orphanage above ground was merely the tip of the iceberg, or a cover, while its real body and internal organs were hidden underground.

What was the purpose of the orphanage cover above ground?

Mo Yi looked around at the astonishing number of small beds in the room, and a conjecture slowly surfaced from the bottom of his heart.

His eyes grew heavy, his pitch-black pupils momentarily frosting over.

Mo Yi subconsciously held the flashlight with his other hand, and then headed directly towards the underground Dean’s Room.

The Dean’s Room was different from the one above ground. It was in a complete mess, like it had been flipped over and looted. The tables and chairs were all tipped over in disarray. Old, yellowed documents were scattered all over the room, and the whole space had accumulated a thick layer of dust.

However, the very first thing Mo Yi noticed was a crooked photo on the wall.

The photo had already turned yellow with two large holes boring through it and was curled at the corners, but the person in the photo could still be clearly made out.

It was a tall woman dressed in a formal black dress, both hands clasped, with a solemn and respectful appearance. There was a deep wrinkle in between her eyebrows, and she was staring right at the camera.

Mo Yi was stunned, and the newspaper clip he found in the library flashed through his mind — This seemed to be the woman was who executed by hanging.

At this moment, he stood at the door, somewhat hesitant.

In the Dean’s Room above ground, he had almost died, which gave him no other option but to be cautious.

After all, Mo Yi didn’t know whether the rules above ground were applicable underground.

In the case that it was applicable, there wasn’t another Song Qi to save him this time.

Mo Yi’s brows wrinkled, and carefully recalled any details concerning the rules — None of them mentioned that there was an underground space and the prompt at the beginning of the game told them to act in accordance with the rules.

So … was it possible to assume that in this basement, it was possible to take advantage of the loopholes within the rules?

Mo Yi took a deep breath and decided to take a gamble.

He stepped into the Dean’s Room and then placed his foot firmly against the door to prevent it from suddenly closing. Then, Mo Yi lowered his head, watching the hands of his watch slowly circling around, his muscles stretched taught from head to toe, ready to rush out at any time if things were to go wrong.

Last time, he was attacked within ten minutes of entering the door.

Therefore, to be on the safe side, Mo Yi waited fifteen minutes this time.

The hands of the watch turned evenly on the dial, making a soft ticking sound, quietly enveloping the whole room. Fifteen minutes passed by quickly, yet nothing happened.

Mo Yi slowly breathed out and his tight muscles relaxed a little: Great. It seemed that his conjecture was correct.

He quickly walked into the room, crouched down, and began to rummage through the messily scattered documents.

Many places in the records were extremely unclear. At times, abbreviations were used, and now and then, only the dates were marked down as well as the amount of money flowing in and out.

This was a ledger.

Mo Yi frowned.

On one of the pages, he recognized several familiar names, arranged in a systematic order: “Daniel … Tommy … John …”

These were the names and surnames on the name tags hung on the front of the beds in the room he was in.

The name and surname at the front seemed to be the from the orphan’s original family. The brief introduction of the orphans family situation revealed nothing out of the ordinary. However, the names were followed by a few messily scrawled money symbols and numbers, as well as a few simple comments: “Leather factory,” “private use”, “private use.”

Mo Yi was stunned, and clenched the yellowed and brittle piece of paper, his fingers leaving a faint hint of body heat on the rough surface of the paper.

His conjecture just now was confirmed.

This was a transfer station for the illegal trafficking of children. Orphans from all over were sent here and then placed in the crowded abyss of darkness underground, and then were sold off one by one.

They either entered a toxic chemical factory, or were purchased anonymously by individuals for private use, or were also transported abroad.

And the normal orphanage on the surface was merely a front to conceal the dirty business transactions underground. That was why it was built so carelessly and incomplete. It was because they knew that none of the children who were sent here would stay long enough to be able to use the public space.

Mo Yi’s breathing was slightly stagnant, and he subconsciously murmured,” Lasciate ogni speranza, voi ch’entrate.”

[Abandon hope, all those who enter].