A bottle of water costs $15, and a sandwich is $40. People say we're dead for sure. Little do they know, I'm a hardened "broke girl," and this game falls right into my wheelhouse. I will be the only "broke" survivor to walk out of this hell. My 99 attempts to fight back couldn't stop me from being sucked into this game world. The system's electronic voice sounded: [Welcome, 100 players, to the Broke Survival Game!] [Initial funds: $50. Objective: Survive in the game area for 7 days.] [The winner gets a $1 million prize!] [Overspending, death, or leaving the game area will result in elimination—you will be burdened with a $1 million debt!] The voice paused, carrying a hint of cunning: [Now, do any cowards want to quit?] "Quit? Are you kidding me?" A punk with dyed blond hair and a lip ring sneered. "Seven days? I can survive just drinking tap water!" A chubby guy next to him in a cheap t-shirt wiped his sweat. "Yeah, exactly! $50 is plenty for hot dogs and pretzels if we budget right!" "Risk it all, turn a bicycle into a sports car!" "Only an idiot would quit!" The crowd buzzed with blind excitement. Not a single one of the 100 players quit. System voice: [Game rules activated. Players may no longer quit. 100 players have been deployed—Welcome to the Los Angeles International Airport (LAX) Labyrinth. Good luck staying alive!] With a flash of white light, I found myself in a massive, modern airport. It was huge, stretching out endlessly. Crowds of people bustled back and forth. It was impossible to tell who was a player and who was an NPC. My game account quietly showed my initial $50. Three metrics appeared on my interface: Hunger, Thirst, and Energy. All three were currently full. I saw a 24-hour convenience store across the way and walked over to check the prices. Just as I reached the refrigerators, a tearful exclamation exploded. "Shit!" It was the chubby guy from earlier. He was staring intensely at the cooler. "$15 for a bottle of water?! Is this a robbery?!" I walked over, my eyes scanning the shelves, and my heart sank. A cupcake was $50, a sandwich $40, a bagel $10, and even the cheapest bag of soda crackers was $18! A daily budget of $7.14? That wouldn't even buy half a bottle of water. The chubby guy looked at me, his face written with despair. "Sister 66, we're screwed! This money is only enough for three bottles of water! People are going to die in a week!" I sighed. "The system isn't running a charity. I knew it wouldn't be this simple." Other players flooded into the convenience store, their faces reflecting the same shock and panic. The chubby guy pulled me aside. "Sister, I'm Player 44, Davis. Let's form an alliance. It's good to have a partner in the game. If someone bullies you, I can fight them." He threw a few boxing jabs, looking reasonably agile. Before I fully understood the game's rules, I didn't want to ally with anyone, so I politely declined. I left the convenience store alone. First things first: find water. Free water. Outside the restrooms, I found a drinking water fountain. I found two discarded empty water bottles nearby, washed them thoroughly, and filled them to the brim. Water sorted. Cost: $0. Next, I needed to secure a massive amount of calories. I spotted a Starbucks. On the condiment bar, packets of white sugar, creamer, and raw sugar were neatly stacked. Sugar is a crucial energy source. The packets could be used in emergencies to prevent hypoglycemia. I walked over expressionless, my movements as natural and smooth as picking up something at home. Over a dozen sugar packets and a few creamers instantly slid into my pockets. The whole process took less than two seconds. Then, I calmly walked out of the Starbucks. Finding a secluded corner, I tore open two sugar packets and poured them into my mouth. The intense sweetness exploded, bringing a false sense of satisfaction. Calories sorted. Cost: $0. The airport's AC was blasting like an icebox. Maybe the system did this on purpose; the colder it was, the faster you burned calories. My thin clothes couldn't block the chill. I had to keep moving to stay warm. I found an airline blanket in a trash bin, discarded by a passenger getting off a flight. As time passed, my hunger grew stronger. At 8 PM, I wandered into a bakery. In the glass display, unsold baguettes and cheese breads gave off an enticing wheat aroma. My stomach let out a loud rumble. Relying on my acute "broke" intuition, I guessed the bread should be on sale by now. Sliced toast, originally $30, was now $15. But it wasn't enough. Right before closing, the discount would be even lower, maybe even free. Every dollar saved was a chance to survive. I sat on a chair across from the bakery, resting with my eyes half-closed. Suddenly, an anonymous player broadcasted in the game's global chat: [Hurry to the bakery in Zone A on L3! The bread here is half price!] "Half-price bread!" "Zone A! Hurry!" "Don't grab it! It's mine!" Twenty or thirty figures surged from all directions, frantically rushing the bakery. The small entrance instantly became a mob. In the chaos, I saw people waving cash, and others reaching directly for the bread on the shelves. The clerk shouted in panic, "Line up! Line up!" but it was completely useless. In just a few minutes, all the discounted bread on the shelves, including the toast I had my eye on, was swept clean! Those who managed to buy something looked relieved, as if they had survived a disaster. Those who didn't beat their chests in frustration, their eyes full of despair. The air was filled with curses, complaints, and desperate sighs from other players. My Hunger level had already dropped by 70%. I took a deep breath, suppressing my stomach cramps, and shifted my gaze from the chaotic crowd up to the giant flight information display high above. Red flight statuses were continuously scrolling. It was time to show my real skills! In this airport, players could move anywhere. Even without a ticket, we could go to the departure gates. I quickly scanned the massive screen and precisely locked onto a few bold, red delayed flights. Only flights delayed for over 6 hours were my targets. Dragging my weakening legs, I walked toward one of the gates. A small crowd had already gathered there, the air thick with anxiety and sweat. Gate 102 had been delayed for 8 hours. Stranded passengers surrounded the gate agent. The agent was a young woman, her face flushed red, as the passengers' spit practically flew into her face. "Is your airline completely useless?!" "My child is crying from hunger! Are you going to do anything?!" "Compensation! We demand compensation! Give us our money right now!" The scene was pure chaos. The agent's voice drowned in the noise, and she looked like she was about to cry. This was the chance! I forcefully pushed my way to the center of the crowd. Not to break up the fight, but to stand directly in front of the gate agent. "Quiet!" I roared with all my might. The sudden outburst stunned the crowd into silence. I pointed at the mother holding a crying child, then addressed all the passengers, raising my voice to be as inflammatory as possible: "Look! Look how much the baby is crying! If we tear the roof down yelling here, is the plane going to fly? The airline made a huge mistake, and they must be held accountable! But what do we need most right now? Food! A place to rest! We need to save our energy to fight them to the end!" I turned to the overwhelmed agent, speaking rapidly: "Everyone is highly emotional. The priority is to calm the passengers down. Issue meal vouchers and hotel vouchers immediately! Let everyone eat and settle down first. Otherwise, if this blows up, can you take the responsibility?" "I've been telling them that meal vouchers and hotel vouchers can be issued, but they don't want them," the agent said, sounding wronged. "Everyone needs to line up and get them according to their boarding passes." "You're still talking about procedures at a time like this?" I interrupted her, pointing to the mom with the baby. "Look how tired this mother is. Can she really stand in line for your meal vouchers after holding a child for 8 hours?" I turned to the mom. "Ma'am, give me your boarding pass! I'll get it for you." I held out my hand with undeniable authority. The mom, grasping at straws, immediately shoved her boarding pass into my hand. Once someone took the lead, the effect was instant. Several other passengers—those with elderly family members, kids, or just looking extremely exhausted—started shoving their passes into my hands too. "Help me get one too!" "And mine!" In an instant, I was clutching over a dozen boarding passes. I turned to the agent, thrust the passes at her, and lowered my voice. "Hurry up. Let's solve the most urgent ones first. Better than ending up on the news, right? Give me two extra meal vouchers, and I'll help you pacify these people with kids. It gives everyone an out." The agent looked at me gratefully and typed furiously on her computer. She pulled out a stack of meal vouchers, counted out the ones matching my passes, then quickly grabbed two more, shoving them all into my hands together with a thankful look in her eyes. Done! My heart hammered, but my face remained calm. "Ma'am, here you go! Take the baby and go eat!" "Sir, here's yours!" I quickly distributed the corresponding vouchers and boarding passes back with practiced efficiency. Finally, I pinched the two extra vouchers, stuffed them into my innermost pocket, and shouted to the crowd: "Everyone go get your vouchers, eat, and rest! Save your strength! We'll settle the score with them later!" While the crowd's attention shifted to claiming their vouchers, I slipped away like an eel, disappearing into the bustling terminal concourse. To survive this game, you had to be better at finding loopholes than the average person. Just outside the lounge, I ran into Davis again. He smiled good-naturedly. "Sister, I saw what you did. You were negotiating like a mob boss in a movie. Are you sure you won't ally with us? We might need each other's help later on." In just one day, he had gathered four other players around him. I still declined his invitation. After stuffing myself with a burger combo using the voucher, my Hunger level temporarily filled back up, but exhaustion washed over me like a tide. My Energy level had fallen below 50%. It was now 11 PM. The airport foot traffic had noticeably thinned out, most stores were closing, and the lights dimmed. An indescribable, eerie atmosphere began to settle in. The seats in the terminal all had armrests to prevent people from lying down. A young player, likely unable to hold on any longer, wrapped himself in a thin jacket and curled up on the floor, trying to sleep. Barely two minutes passed before a bright flashlight beamed directly onto his face. "Get up! No lying down here!" the security guard's voice was robotic and devoid of emotion. The young player ignored the NPC, rolled over, and kept sleeping. Suddenly, a squad of guards armed with batons rushed out from a corner. Without a word, they forcefully hauled him up and threw him out the main doors of the airport. The global chat broadcasted: [Player 13 eliminated for leaving the game area. Debt: $1 million.] Right after, players in other zones were eliminated in the exact same way. The system was forcing our hand, using exhaustion and the cold to squeeze out the players' last drop of sanity. By this time, my Energy level was critically low. To avoid elimination, I pulled the ragged blanket over myself and fell asleep sitting up in a terminal chair. The sun rising the next day informed us that only one day of the game had passed. My Energy barely crawled back to 75%, but my Hunger had dropped back down to 50%. With one meal voucher left, I wasn't too panicked. I drank some cold water, ate two sugar packets, and headed toward the departure hall to hunt. Suddenly, a player sprinted past me, snatching a hot dog right out of a child's hand. He brushed past me, nearly knocking me over. The child burst into tears. Security rushed over, surrounded the player, and tossed him into a police cruiser outside the airport. System broadcast: [Player 25 snatched NPC food, thrown out of the airport by security. Eliminated. Debt: $1 million.] I realized something: whatever you do in this airport, do not alert security. The airport was strange today. Not a single flight was delayed. I guessed the system had patched the loophole I exploited. All day, I wandered the hall like a normal passenger, popping into every duty-free and specialty store that offered free samples. Of course, I only ate and never bought anything. I watched the clerks' faces while sampling, and as soon as I noticed them glaring at my freeloading, I'd quickly slip away. I managed to scrap by until the evening. I used my last voucher for dinner, topping up my Hunger again. My Energy dropped even lower today. This time, I chose not to make do with a terminal seat. I slipped into a dim side corridor. At the end of it was a golden real estate spot I'd discovered during the day: an abandoned equipment room with a cracked-open door. It was full of junk, but once the door closed, it was a private sanctuary. I had just stepped inside, before I even had time to shut the door properly, when—Bang!—a loud crash echoed as someone kicked the door wide open. A tall white guy stormed in, followed by two young punks. Scared, I shrank further back into the room. "Get out, this place is ours!" the tall guy yelled at me. I recognized him. Yesterday at the bakery, he was the one fighting the hardest. He had even snatched bread straight from the hands of two other players. Knowing I couldn't mess with him, I decided to surrender my prime real estate. Just as I reached the door, the tall guy suddenly pulled out a switchblade and pressed it against my neck. "Hand over the rest of your cash and any food you have! Right fucking now! Or I'll slice you open." The madness and cruelty in their eyes told me they would absolutely do it! My brain raced. Fight back? I had zero chance of winning. Hand over the money? That meant being eliminated and bearing a $1 million debt. What do I do? What do I do? I swallowed hard. "Bro, let's talk this out. You know robbery will get you eliminated by the system." "Cut the crap! Hurry up, I'm out of patience." The blade pressed deeper into my neck. I gave up resisting and decisively transferred my $50 balance to him. I could only earn a million if I stayed alive in the game. The tall guy got the money and shoved me out the door. As they closed the door, I heard a smug voice from inside: "Direct robbery works perfectly. Good thing he told us robbing wouldn't get us eliminated. Now we don't have to worry about running out of cash." Who was "he"? Robbing NPCs was forbidden, but robbing—even killing—players was allowed. Who knew the rules this thoroughly? It was only day two, and I had lost my only $50. No money, no food. Was I just supposed to wait for death? Not long after, another anonymous broadcast echoed across the global chat: [The soda crackers at the Zone B 24-hour convenience store on the departure level are on sale.] The equipment room door opened. The tall guy and his lackeys walked out. I quickly hid to the side and tailed them toward the convenience store. The three of them used all their stolen money to buy soda crackers. Following the electronic chime of a successful transaction, the system broadcasted: [Players 5, 49, and 61 eliminated due to overspending. Debt: $1 million.] The tall guy wailed, "This is money I stole! How does that count as overspending?!" Before he could finish, he vanished into thin air like a beam of light. His two sidekicks disappeared like lightning strikes right after him. Dozens of bags of soda crackers and four or five bags of bread clattered onto the floor. I rushed over, stripped off my jacket, and wrapped the crackers and bread tightly inside. I guessed right. The system said from the start that overspending meant elimination, but everyone only had $50. How could anyone overspend? There was only one way: if you robbed another player's money and spent more than $50, it counted as overspending. But when the tall guy robbed bread from players at the bakery, he wasn't eliminated. That meant stealing food didn't trigger the penalty. It was highly predictable that in the coming days, more people who figured this out would start brawling over food. So, the food had to be hidden perfectly. With this stash, I could absolutely survive until the end. I found five spots I deemed safe and scattered the crackers, intending to unlock one location each day to get through the final five days. By the time I finished, my Energy level was critically low again, hitting the red warning zone. I sat back down in the terminal chairs and fell asleep. Day three. A fit of violent, lung-tearing coughing erupted nearby, instantly drawing everyone's attention. It was Player 47, Emily, a girl who looked very frail to begin with. She was curled up on a cold metal bench, her body shaking violently. Her face was flushed from coughing, bordering on purple. Her boyfriend, Brad, also a player, looked at her in disgust. "What's wrong with you? A fever? Don't tell me you can't make it to day seven!" Emily's voice was hoarse and weak, thick with phlegm. "I just... I feel so cold, so sick. Brad, can you hold me, please?" "No way. What if you infect me?" Brad refused. A piercing siren rang out across the entire terminal without warning. Heavy, synchronized footsteps approached from a distant corridor. Hazmat-suited quarantine personnel easily hoisted Emily up. "Let me go! I can't be eliminated!" Emily screamed in terror, yelling at her boyfriend: "Brad, help me! Help me!" But Brad didn't even look at her; he turned and bolted. The hazmat team ignored Emily's cries. Under the horrified gazes of the other players, they threw her onto a stretcher cart and quickly disappeared down the corridor. A few seconds later, the system broadcast: [Player 47 severely endangered public health and safety. She has been forcibly removed from the game area for quarantine. Eliminated! Debt: $1 million!] [Player 87 severely endangered public health and safety. He has been forcibly removed from the game area for quarantine. Eliminated! Debt: $1 million!] Players looked at each other, their eyes brimming with suspicion. "87 ate food from the trash yesterday and had severe diarrhea today." "You can't catch a cold, and you can't get diarrhea either." Who would be next? Just the sound of a cough, even someone clearing their throat, was enough to make hearts pound. I had learned another rule: you cannot get sick. Even a minor cold or an upset stomach would get you dragged out of the game area. I survived the day relying on my scavenged bread and crackers. The airport was even colder today, literal freezing temperatures. I found a foil emergency space blanket in a trash can, discarded by a hiker. Wrapping it around myself kept me much warmer than that tiny, ragged airline blanket. By day four, more and more people were being eliminated. Waking up early, I decided to go grab my bread and crackers for the day. Avoiding the crowds, I headed to the first stash spot: a gap between a massive planter and the wall behind a remote restroom. Approaching it, I crouched down and reached into the familiar crevice. Empty! There was absolutely nothing inside. My heart plummeted. Unwilling to give up, I felt around carefully again. Not even a shred of the wrapper was left. Panicking, I sprinted to the next location. Nothing. Still nothing. All four locations where I hid the crackers had been robbed. Dozens of life-saving bags of soda crackers and bread had vanished overnight without a trace. My guaranteed victory had been completely overturned in an instant. To accurately locate every spot and silently clear them out in a single night—this wasn't something an ordinary player could do. Who was it? Who had been watching me this whole time? My mood hit absolute rock bottom. I shamelessly went back to hunting for free samples, but the number of players doing the same had surged. The vendors were on high alert and had hidden all their sample trays. Even the Starbucks condiment bar was barren. The baristas had removed all the sugar packets. Trash cans became a battlefield. Many players still risked diarrhea to dig for scraps. By the time I checked them, not even a crumb was left. I dragged myself to 10 PM. All my stats were flashing red warnings. I walked toward a row of luxury boutiques. A player nearby whispered, "That girl's probably getting eliminated soon. What's she doing near the luxury stores?" In a trash can near the boutiques, I found several discarded designer bags and boxes. Travelers often threw away the packaging before departing to dodge customs taxes. I carefully stuffed the boxes into the most pristine Hermès paper bag, carrying it as I headed down to the departures level. During my earlier scouting, I noticed a high-end steakhouse there. Now, I was going to leverage it for a free resting spot and some complimentary appetizers. Pushing open the heavy glass doors, the warmth and aroma of roasted meat rushed over me. A server with a sweet smile jogged over to greet me. "Welcome! A table for how many, miss?" "Two." I casually placed the eye-catching luxury shopping bag on the chair next to me, my voice carrying a trace of barely noticeable hoarseness. "Find me a quiet booth. I'm waiting for someone." The server's eyes swept over the bag, and her smile deepened. "Right away, miss. Right this way, please!"
? Continue the story here ?? ? Download the "MotoNovel" app ? search for "405515", and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel