Ten Day Ultimatum

The Caesar cipher is one of the simplest and most recognized encryption methods. It functions by shifting each letter in the plaintext a fixed number of positions down the alphabet—for instance, {A} becomes {B}, {B} turns into {C}, and so forth.
Consider the commonplace English word {CAN}; when encrypted using the Caesar cipher with a single-letter shift, it becomes {DBO}.
At first glance, this may seem like a random string of characters, yet when deciphered, it unveils a legitimate word.

‘The only variable left to determine... is how many shifts were applied.’
Although Qi Xia understood the concept, he wasn’t an expert in decryption. The lingering question could only be resolved through the most basic approach—
Trial and error.

At first, he assumed that each letter had been shifted by one position. But after several minutes of fruitless attempts, all he had was a mess of meaningless characters.
Undeterred, he tried a second shift.
This seemingly simple task left Qi Xia deep in thought.

{MLGDRZDQVXL}
Without pen or paper, he had to rely entirely on mental calculations. Shifting such a long sequence twice—visualizing {M} as {K}, {L} as {J}—was no easy feat.
‘Still not right…’

Minutes passed. Qi Xia’s brow began to furrow.
Even after trying two shifts, the code remained intact. Was his approach fundamentally flawed?
Each letter could be shifted up to twenty-five times, meaning {A} might represent any letter but {A}. Testing all of that mentally was exhausting.

"Is this your strategy?" Jiang Ruoxue asked, leaning lazily against the doorframe.
Qi Xia didn’t respond. He steadied his mind and started the third round of shifting.
This time, he pushed each letter forward by three places—envisioning {M} as {J}, {L} as {I}...

But after checking just five letters, Qi Xia's expression hardened.
Jiang Ruoxue studied him curiously. "Oh? Did you figure it out?"
Qi Xia’s lips moved slightly as he whispered: “JI... DAO... WAN... SUI?”
"Yes, yes, yes!" Jiang Ruoxue clapped her hands with delight. “After decoding it, it really did become {极道万岁 (All Hail Judgment’s Domain)}! I thought it hadn’t worked!”

At the sound of those four words, panic flickered across Qi Xia’s face.
He sank into his seat, fear evident in his eyes. "What are your intentions...?"
"Oh, nothing much," Jiang Ruoxue replied, shaking her head lightly. "I’m going to die anyway, so I thought I should extend my greetings before I go."

"Extend your greetings?..." Qi Xia clenched his jaw. "The last time you people ‘extended your greetings,’ two of my companions died..."
"Oh? Is that so?" Jiang Ruoxue blinked, feigning surprise. "So Xiao Xiao took action? She never mentioned that to us. But it doesn’t matter—you’ll have to forgive her. Xiao Xiao’s always been like that. She really does have a good heart, though."
"What nonsense..." Qi Xia slowly stood up. "A good heart? I can barely stop myself from tearing her apart..."

"You really are upset..." Jiang Ruoxue remarked, stepping forward to pat his shoulder. "How about this—after this game ends, I’ll die. A life for a life. Will that make you feel better?"
Qi Xia remained silent. Something about her was deeply unsettling.
Or rather, all of {Judgment’s Domain} seemed to share that same eerie quality.

He paused, then picked up the letter on the table. "What about the original {secret code}? If you changed it, won’t that put my teammates in danger again?"
"What are you talking about? This is the {secret code}," Jiang Ruoxue said, confused. "Isn’t this the letter your teammate sent?"
"You...?" Qi Xia looked just as puzzled. "You’re saying that ‘All Hail Judgment’s Domain’ is the secret [N O V E L I G H T] code? Are you in league with {Terrestrial Dog}?"

"Not exactly. We’re not connected to the {Earthly Branches}," Jiang Ruoxue shook her head. "Qi Xia, listen to the logic: if {Terrestrial Dog} said the letter contains the code, and this letter contains {All Hail Judgment’s Domain}, then obviously that’s the code."
"What...?"
Qi Xia found the logic difficult to swallow. Jiang Ruoxue didn’t seem outright crazy—but what she was saying made no sense.

Still, he slowly walked to the cabinet. Hesitating for a moment, he entered the characters 极道万岁 (All Hail Judgment’s Domain) into the touchscreen.
Seeing this, Jiang Ruoxue smiled faintly. "It’s quite a sight, seeing you write those four words yourself."
With a soft click, the cabinet door unlocked.

Inside, Zhang Chenze huddled, trembling. When her eyes met Qi Xia’s, they filled with a complex mix of relief and fear.
Before he could speak, she darted forward and threw her arms around him.
“Qi Xia!!”

“I...” Qi Xia tensed, unsure where to place his hands.
“Thank goodness... I was so terrified...” Zhang Chenze shivered violently—whether from fear or cold, he couldn’t tell. “I thought I was going to be cooked alive in there...”
“Lawyer Zhang, I recall you’re not fond of physical contact,” Qi Xia said awkwardly.

“Ah…” Zhang Chenze quickly let go, hastily wiping tears from her cheeks. “I’m sorry... I didn’t mean to trouble you.”
“Not at all. You just caught me off guard,” Qi Xia said, shaking his head. “I’m not great with surprises. And you’re not usually like this.”
“I—I’m sorry,” Zhang Chenze murmured, her composure gradually returning. She looked down, embarrassed.

Then, the intercom crackled to life, breaking the silence.
“A team has successfully rescued their teammate. The game is now concluded.”
The building erupted with noise—some voices overjoyed, others full of dismay.

Qi Xia’s senses sharpened. Heavy footsteps echoed through the hall, as if someone were running toward his room.
A prickle of unease ran down his spine. He stepped outside.
Ole Lu came into view, sprinting for his life, bloodied and battered.

“Punk Qi... help me!!”
Qi Xia frowned. Behind Ole Lu, a green-haired figure gave chase like a wild dog, eyes blazing.
“You old bastard! Didn’t I warn you?! If I die, you pay with your life!!”

Qi Xia’s eyes narrowed. “Isn’t that your boyfriend?” he asked Jiang Ruoxue. “Are all members of {Judgment’s Domain} this crazy?”
“He’s not with {Judgment’s Domain},” Jiang Ruoxue replied flatly, arms crossed. “My little act ends here—it’s tiring pretending to be some love-struck girl.”
“So you’re saying you won’t take any responsibility for what happens next?”

“Yeah. I’m just waiting to die,” Jiang Ruoxue replied, sinking into a chair and closing her eyes. "I’d like some peace, at least for now."
Qi Xia nodded and turned to retrieve the iron box resting on the table.