"So it's the word "jue"." The boy next to him finally spoke.

An Wujiu turned his face and captured a small expression of curiosity satisfying on his excessively cold face. His name was also floating, and his name was Wu You.

"Ah, I'm curious about this." The beauty on the right also spoke, and the words [Zhong Yirou] floated in front of her. She supported her chin with her palms and tapped her nails on her cheeks. "This name doesn't look like a poor man who will participate in the competition at all."

She was wearing berry-colored lipstick, her eyes were big and beautiful. "Your neck..." Zhong Yirou stretched out her finger and pointed at An Wujiu's side neck, and then leaned closer. "Is this flower tattooed?"

"Hua?" An Wujiu lowered his head. Seeing that he couldn't see it, Zhong Yirou spread out his left hand and placed it in front of An Wujiu. A small round mirror was embedded in the palm of his palm. "Here, this white one is quite beautiful."

From the mirror reflecting, An Wujiu found a large cluster of flowers on his neck, with snow-white thin edges outlining the blooming shape. The petals are complex and layered, from the left clavicle to the right side, winding upwards all the way to behind the right ear.

But there seems to be no such flowers in his memory.

"I don't remember it either." An Wujiu put his fingers on it, rubbing his skin red, but he couldn't get rid of it.

Is it really a tattoo?

"Shaoyao." Wu You, who was beside him, interjected, but soon added in a low voice, "It seems to be."

Zhong Yirou was very surprised, "Shaoyao? Have you actually seen the peony flowers? Now this kind of ornamental flower is almost extinct."

In this world where land and water resources are flooded, let alone ornamental vegetation, there is not much soil for food crops to grow.

Wu You pursed her lips, "My mother..." He stopped and explained perfunctorily, "My family has a collection..."

Zhong Yirou felt even more strange when she heard this, "What kind of wealthy family are you?"

"Fake." Wu You pressed down on the brim of his hat, folded his hands and leaned on the table, "Artificial."

"That's it." The suspicion on Zhong Yirou's face did not completely disappear. She put away her small mirror, observed the skin on An Wujiu's neck, and said to herself: "It doesn't look like a tattoo...it doesn't seem to be artificial skin either."

An Wujiu didn't think about the strange peony patterns on his body anymore. After all, he has lost his memory now, so it is useless to think too much.

He lowered his head slightly and glanced at the slit of Zhong Yirou's cheongsam that exposed the straps on her legs. The skin on her left calf was different from the rest. It should be a whole piece of artificial transplanted skin, and the material produced by shark cartilage polysaccharide was weirdly smooth.

In addition, she had a roll-shaped bag behind her back. There were thin cocoons on her index fingers and middle fingers on both hands, and a slight knife wound on the side of her fingers. It was a slender shape that could only be caused by a sharp knife. Her nails were very short and red nail polish was applied, and a little black thing was rubbed against the tail of her little finger.

Engine oil?

The sound rang again, and An Wujiu stopped observing.

“This warm-up game is called, the rules are very simple.”

A holographic projection is projected on the desktop, which is a display screen with eight numbers constantly rotating.

"Among the 100 natural numbers, 1 to 100, each of you needs to take any of them and write them with your fingers on the handwriting screen in front of you."

The rotation on the eight monitors stopped, and eight numbers appeared randomly. Then, a new number appeared above the eight monitors, "Summarize these eight numbers and divide them by 8 to get an average."

"The numbers you wrote are 1/2 of the true average, and the closest one as the winner of the warm-up game, enjoy the advantages of the formal game and the right to decide the competition system."

"Give everyone five minutes to think about it and write down the answer in five minutes."

"Then, the timing begins."

The countdown number appeared on the round table, which instantly turned into 4 minutes and 59 seconds, and it continued to decrease. The noise that had just stopped for a while appeared again. An Wujiu's forehead was covered with cold sweat and his hands began to shake again. He took his hand under the table and tried to hold it tightly. He only heard a strong man opposite him speak, "I actually made a math problem for me."

An Wujiu stared at the strong man who had just spoken. His name showed that it was Liu Chengwei. He looked not young, at least thirty years old, but he looked like he was in a social outfit. He had many tiny pinholes on his arms and both fists were covered with metal exoskeletons, but the material was average.

"Fuck, what I hate the most is counting." Liu Chengwei had an old scar on his face, which was slanted from the middle of his eyebrow bones to his cheekbones. His entire eye was injured, and the eyeballs in the bones of the eye sockets were atrophy and gray.

Wu You was still playing with the Rubik's Cube in his hand, lowering his head and not raising his eyelids, "Have you not even learned how to calculate?"

This was not nice, and Liu Chengwei was suddenly angry with him, "Can you speak?" He looked at Wu You's old clothes that were not fit, "Do you think you are like a school person?"

This world is entirely operated by capital.

Capitalists, which occupy nearly 90% of the world's wealth, enjoy and waste excess resources, including education. The essence of class solidification is to master the cognitive ability of the lower classes, so the compulsory universal education system has long been eliminated. Basic mathematics education is expensive, and a complete set of basic subject education has discouraged many poor people, not to mention physics, astronomy or artificial intelligence disciplines.

Want to know the essence of the world?

Just have money.

Wu You rolled his eyes, "At least I'm not illiterate."

"Well, I'm sorry to interrupt you..." A boy who looked dumb and wore a pair of glasses and freckles couldn't help but speak out, "Just guessing numbers is not a difficult question, so don't argue."

The name floating in front of him was [Ueno Daiseki], who was a Japanese man. He seemed to speak Japanese, but An Wujiu heard Chinese.

Ueno's words did not relieve Liu Chengwei's anger, but the other party instead blew the anger on him, "What's the point of being a poor man who can't even afford implantable glasses!"

"I...sorry." Ueno swallowed the words again when he reached his mouth, and pushed his old glasses that had been used on the bridge of his nose awkwardly.

"He said nothing wrong, it's not difficult. Just now, Shengyin said that in the end, it was compared with 1/2 of the average sum of everyone's numbers." Zhong Yirou smiled cutely, pointing to the people on the table one by one, "You choose 10, you choose 20, so choose this one..." She turned to look at An Wujiu, and pointed at him from a distance with her slender fingers. "Finally, if you choose 80, eight people, the final average is 45, and one-half, then you choose 22 and 23 people closest to you."

After saying that, Zhong Yirou smiled, "It's not difficult to calculate, but who can guess which number each other will choose?"

"That's right." Yang Ming, the middle-aged man who has been targeting An Wujiu, spoke. "This warm-up game is also strange, it's all based on luck."

An Wujiu stared at his face. This man could hide his tone when he spoke, but the subtle expression on his face was not well hidden enough.

"What job does Mr. Yang do?" Zhong Yirou smiled and turned the topic to an irrelevant direction, but it coincided with what An Wujiu thought. "I feel like you are wearing a tie and a shirt, and compared with us, you are much more serious."

Her tone was teasing and joking, and she didn't sound very serious.

This is an excellent observation point. An Wujiu stared at everyone in his sight silently. Wu You didn't react much, and was still playing with the Rubik's Cube. Liu Chengwei looked like he was watching a show and was interested in the hint of the beauty. The old man held a pen in his hand, as if he didn't care much about this sentence. He just thought about it himself. The man with freckles looked at Zhong Yirou with a timid expression.

An Wujiu's observing eyes fell on the mechanical Guanyin's face directly opposite him, but found that the other party was facing him with the Guanyin statue, motionless, as if he was staring at him.

The beauty spoke up and said flatteringly. Although Yang Ming, who was sitting opposite him, subconsciously rectified his tie knot. "It's not a big deal, it's just an ordinary office worker."

"Office workers are good." Zhong Yirou smiled brightly. "In our society, I want to be an office worker. I don't know how highly educated you have. The competition is so big." She seemed to feel hot, and deliberately unbuttoned the top button of her cheongsam. "When I saw you, I felt like you were a white-collar worker, that kind of... financial industry."

An Wujiu stared at Yang Ming. His alertness was obviously lowered. The corners of his mouth that had been tense were slightly raised. His thin cheeks seemed to have become full and moist because of these flattery words. "It's okay, it's okay, it's not so exaggerating."

He did not deny Zhong Yirou's speculation.

Aware of this, An Wujiu tilted his head while thinking, but came to his senses and found that the guy wearing a mask sitting opposite him was staring at him.

Wu You, who was playing with the Rubik's Cube, stopped and just muttered quietly, "Who will come to the altar when you are doing well..."

On the left side of Wu You sat an old man who had never spoken. His platinum hair seemed to be withered, and he looked at least sixty years old, but his physique was still strong. It was not until he spoke that An Wujiu noticed him.

"There are only three and a half minutes left in five minutes. Don't you talk more about games?" He had a Western-faced hole and his mouth seemed to be in French, but like Ueno, they could hear Chinese directly.

A name projected in front of him was the word [Lao Yu], without a foreign name.

"What are you talking about?" Yang Ming's tie was tilted and he glanced at Lao Yu, "Do you want us to report all the numbers we want to fill out, and you can calculate it before writing it?"

"Can you count it?" Liu Chengwei laughed.

Yang Ming's expression seemed very relaxed, and he held his hands on the table, "In fact, this is just a warm-up game. As long as the winner is not An Wujiu, it doesn't matter who it is. As long as he gets the advantage of the game, we will be in danger."

An Wujiu remained silent.

"I agree." Liu Chengwei broke his fists and suggested, "Or we tied up this kid and didn't let him answer questions, so that he would not get an advantage."

The noise in the brain became extremely serious.

Lao Yu hesitated a little, "Isn't this... considered a foul?"

Zhong Yirou raised her eyebrows, "The person who fouled will either die directly, just like that guy just now, or was pushed into the punishment stack 1. Be careful, few people can come out of that ghost place in a normal state. But..."

She shrugged, "If it can really eliminate a dangerous element directly, I have no objection."

These competitors were unscrupulously discussing their "handling methods", but An Wujiu didn't care about listening, and a sound of a countdown appeared in his mind.

The last sound stopped. After a moment of silence, a sharp and harsh noise made him lower his head. The next second, he heard an unreal electronic simulated female voice. The content was incomplete, only a few intermittent sentences.

[It's still time...]

[Believe me, you will find all the memories.]

[…You must survive and come to see me alive.]

[You need companions, never be alone.]

The sound came to an abrupt end, like a ECG monitor that ended, with only the single sound of sleeping.

Is this the last voice left by my mother?

Where is the memory chip?

An Wujiu held his head with his hands and gasped, but the sound never appeared again.

The hand he was seriously injured had a digital mark on the back of his hand, like a number - 99.

His amnesia was indeed artificial.

Wu You saw something wrong with him, "What's wrong with you?"

"Don't worry about him." Yang Ming sarcastically, "He has started acting again."

He smiled and rolled up the cuffs of his shirt, "The game is about to begin, but it's a chance anyway, so don't worry about it."

Is that true? An Wujiu raised his head.

This game is not about luck at all.

It's intelligence.

Not only did he know this, he believed that Yang Ming also knew it.

Just listening to the rules, this number guessing game seems to be about who can happen to be the range of the average, but it is essentially a war on intelligence and prediction.

If there is no big error in other parts of his memory system, this game is derived from the "beauty pageant game" model in economics 2.

The process of choosing an average is like betting on the winner of a beauty pageant. The most important thing is not whether she is really the most beautiful in her heart, but the one in most people's hearts. Whether it is betting on the game itself, but the psychology of other contestants.

Under Zhong Yirou's charming offensive, Yang Ming did not deny his identity as a financial industry, and he has always exaggerated the elements of luck. He knew that the probability of this theory was at least 80%.

An Wujiu had not had too many expressions on his face, staring at the blank handwriting screen in front of him.

"The last thirty seconds, the countdown begins."

“30——”

He knew his current situation very well. If what Yang Ming said before was true, according to his description of the previous game, it seems that none of them were fighting alone. If so, even if he could win the warm-up match and gain a certain advantage, he would become the target of public criticism in the official game. With such serious injuries, it may not last long.

“29——”

On the basis of unknown competition system, he could not guarantee that he would survive as a public target.

There is no benefit to showing your edge.

“28——”

It is difficult to eliminate other people's fears.

The best way is to divert your fear.

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The author has something to say:

1 stack is a data structure, a linear structure for inserting and deleting data at the same end. First push the data and pop it out.
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