Cowardly, Timid Gu Beng Beng

1133's death brought the lower-class people in the square to a halt for a moment. But perhaps the deaths had come so frequently that they'd grown numb, or perhaps the upper class's long-standing dictatorship had taught them only to obey.

No one questioned this game, which had deliberately concealed key information.

They simply thought 1133 had been terribly unlucky and anxiously prayed that their own luck wouldn't be as bad as his.

They kept climbing without pause, as if desperate to prove that they would be the lucky one to get a license.

The sound of falling bodies rang out continuously across the square. Some had lost their footing and fallen while climbing the ladders; others had been unlucky enough to draw the skull that meant death from an envelope.

Teacher Slaughter hosted the show with great enthusiasm. Whenever someone fell, he let out a feigned sigh of regret.

"Ah, another brave soul has left us. But that means one fewer competitor, and everyone here has a better chance of getting a license! The sacrifices of those who've fallen haven't been in vain. Look, the audience is growing!"

007 turned to look toward the edge of the square.

A steady trickle of upper-class people was arriving. The giant screen on the stage was broadcasting the event live on television. It seemed Teacher Slaughter's show was very popular. The upper-class people who'd watched the broadcast couldn't wait to come and see it in person.

"I heard the hosts' shows on neighboring Paradise Island and Joyful City are the most boring. They just have the lower-class people take turns giving speeches onstage. The audience over there heard our show is not only interesting but full of fierce competition, so they all came here instead." An upper-class person beside 007 was talking to