Ten Day Ultimatum

On the other side of the corridor, in the {Correspondent}'s room.
Ole Lu had been beaten to a pulp; both of his nostrils were bleeding, and one of his fingers had been broken.

"Please, stop hitting me..." Ole Lu begged. "If you kill me, no one will be able to deliver anything for you... Have mercy..."
"You old bastard!!" A'Mu growled, grabbing the few strands of hair Ole Lu had left. "Haven’t I treated you well?! Huh? I gave you {Dào} and {trust}! How dare you destroy my key?!"
"I'm really sorry..." Ole Lu forced a bitter smile. "I delivered the box and then realized there was still a key in my hand... I meant to bring it over immediately, but with just three seconds left on the three-minute countdown, I would’ve died if I hadn’t thrown the key into the pulverizer..."

"You take me for a sucker?!" A'Mu yanked Ole Lu's hair and slammed him hard against the wall.
The impact struck Ole Lu's eye socket, and blood poured from his brow.
"Ouch! Stop hitting me..." Ole Lu cried out on the floor, cradling his forehead. "If you keep this up, you really will kill me..."

A'Mu took a moment to steady his breathing before gradually releasing his grip.
"You old bastard... good thing I didn’t fully trust you," he muttered, slowly standing up and pulling a letter from his pocket.
"Wh—?" Ole Lu froze at the sight of the letter. "You didn’t put the letter in?!"

"Your little tricks are nothing but child’s play to me," A'Mu snarled, a menacing smile curling on his lips as he squatted beside Ole Lu. "Listen closely, you old bastard. This is your final chance. If that letter doesn’t make it this time, even if there are {consequences}, I swear I’ll storm into the corridor, gouge your eyes out, and crush your throat—do you understand?"
Ole Lu trembled, nodding in fearful acknowledgment.
A'Mu would certainly follow through on his threats. He was a true criminal; even if he lost the game, Ole Lu would never escape his wrath.

‘Punk Qi... this old bone of mine can only help you this far,’ Ole Lu murmured to himself.
…
On the other side, Jiang Ruoxue anxiously clutched the box, stalling for time.

She found herself cornered, having underestimated the young man’s unexpected cleverness.
With the two locks on the box destined to open, her only recourse was to buy as much time as possible, praying her team could secure victory with this slight advantage.
As the seconds slipped away, with just ten seconds remaining on the countdown, Jiang Ruoxue steeled herself and opened Lin Qin’s door.

Lin Qin appeared momentarily taken aback by the {follow-up}, her expression one of utter bewilderment.
She had just dispatched the locked box, hoping Qi Xia possessed the necessary tools to open it. Now, not only was the box intact, but it had also been returned with an additional lock.
"Make it quick! I’m running out of time!" Jiang Ruoxue urged.
Anxious that the {Infiltrator} might perish, leaving no one to convey the letter, Lin Qin hastily accepted the box.

She stared at the two locks, her eyes widening.
‘So that’s it... he had another lock? I understand!’
Lin Qin quickly retrieved her golden key and unlocked the golden padlock.

Only the silver padlock remained.
"Hurry!" Lin Qin handed the box back to Jiang Ruoxue. "Deliver it to the {Recipient}!"
Jiang Ruoxue gritted her teeth, glancing at the box in her hands, fully aware of how precarious the situation had become.

The woman before her had seen through everything in mere seconds—clearly not someone to be underestimated.
"Um... let me join your team..." Jiang Ruoxue awkwardly suggested. "We should collaborate. Victory can only be achieved through cooperation."
Lin Qin studied Jiang Ruoxue’s eyes intently, then offered a slight smile. "Strange. If you truly wanted to collaborate, Qi Xia wouldn’t have come up with this plan."

"Qi Xia...?"
"The situation’s already progressed to this point. Even if you don’t cooperate, we won’t lose the match." Lin Qin smiled apologetically. "I’m sorry, but I can’t agree to your request."
Jiang Ruoxue stared at Lin Qin, her thoughts unreadable.

"Ruoxue, the only thing you can do now is stall for time," Lin Qin said, slowly beginning to close the door. "I'm sorry."
Once in the corridor, Jiang Ruoxue’s earlier demeanor vanished. She slowly made her way to the center of the hallway, murmuring softly to herself.
"So, that’s Qi Xia? How effortless this has turned out to be."

After a brief pause, she nodded repeatedly, as if speaking to someone.
"Yeah, I’m alright with dying. But what about the other matters?"
"Ok." Jiang Ruoxue nodded. "Should I leave him a little surprise?"

"Understood."
With the iron box in her arms, she stepped forward slowly and headed directly to Qi Xia’s door.
Jiang Ruoxue gently closed her eyes and knocked.

Qi Xia opened the door, his gaze immediately falling on the box in her hands. A satisfied smile crept across his face.
The box now bore only a single silver lock.
This team was made up entirely of {premium components}; there was no way they’d produce a {subpar aircraft}.

"What is it? Are you handing the box over now, or do you need to stall a bit more?" Qi Xia asked.
Jiang Ruoxue slowly °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° opened her eyes—just as a loud bell tolled in the distance.
{DONG}!!!

Qi Xia froze, a sense of foreboding washing over him. He quickly scanned his surroundings but saw nothing unusual.
"I’ll hand it over to you now," Jiang Ruoxue said. "But you do realize you won’t be able to unlock the door right away, right?"
"Of course," Qi Xia replied, extending his hand cautiously to accept the box, his gaze still wary. "Ole Lu must’ve transmitted the message some time ago, but since we’re still in the game, it means that even if they’ve seen the letter’s contents, the {Recipient} still can’t open the door."

"Let’s see what you’ve got," Jiang Ruoxue challenged.
Qi Xia cast her a skeptical glance. "If you witness my methods, it could cost you your life."
"That’s fine," she smiled. "Who’s to say who will lose?"

"Fair point."
Qi Xia retrieved his silver key and deftly unlocked the final padlock.
He pulled out the envelope and opened it, his expression unreadable. Then, he approached the large microwave, scrutinizing the prompts on its touchscreen.

It was a sophisticated display that supported handwritten input.
There were four blank spaces—Qi Xia had to enter the password, but it wasn’t clear whether it required digits, letters, or Chinese characters.
Turning back, Qi Xia picked up the encrypted letter again.

Next step: decipher the secret code.
He unfolded the letter, revealing a single line of letters:
{MLGDRZDQVXL}

No other clues.
Jiang Ruoxue also looked puzzled, apparently unable to make sense of the code.
‘Every game has its {lifeline},’ Qi Xia murmured. ‘If the code’s too complex, it cuts off that lifeline. So the solution shouldn’t be that hard.’

‘And among the simplest methods I know, there’s only one that doesn’t use numbers.’
‘Caesar cipher.’