A real killer playing a villain; the guy surnamed Zhen in Detective, run!

Meng Ying looked up: "What do you understand?"

Shen Yiming glanced at Lu Yuan.

Lu Yuan was wiping the oil from the spicy snack onto the edge of the lunchbox lid to prevent it from dripping onto the table; his actions were ridiculously simple.

Shen Yiming, however, grew increasingly solemn as he looked at the scene.

"His state in the gas chamber just now was a high-pressure combat mode. Judging the gas composition, disassembling the valve, and triggering the forced exhaust—the whole reaction was flawless."

Big Smoke swallowed hard. "So?"

"Therefore, this state cannot be maintained for long."

Shen Yiming's speech quickened, "When a person enters a state of extreme focus, their sympathetic nervous system is fully activated, and adrenaline and cortisol levels surge. Ordinary people release this through crying, shaking, or huddling together. He can't do that; his threshold is too high."

Meng Ying looked at the bag of spicy strips: "So he eats this?"

"right."

Shen Yiming pointed to the red packaging bag.

"High in oil, salt, sugar, and saturated flavors, coupled with the everyday memories behind cheap food. It's not high-end, but it's precisely because it's not high-end that it's so down-to-earth. It can drag someone on the verge of becoming a killer back to the everyday environment of convenience stores, school gates, corner stores, and five-cent snacks."

Da Yan felt a chill run down his spine. "You mean... spicy strips are a tool for psychological intervention?"

"It's not an ordinary tool," Shen Yiming corrected.

"This is a self-protection mechanism. The down-to-earth atmosphere counteracts psychological toxicity. Frankly, it's much more sophisticated than the methods many actors claim to use."

Meng Ying looked down at the spicy strips, a certain aura emanating from her.

After listening to this from the corner, He Rihuo put his hands together and said, "Amitabha."

Big Smoke turned his head: "Teacher He, you've figured it out again?"

He Rihuo's expression was very serious. "Learning cultivation from Father Huo is a great realm."

Lu Yuan looked up: "What realm?"

He Rihuo immediately pulled his head back: "It's okay, you eat."

Shen Yiming put down his chopsticks and reached for a spicy strip.

I was very careful. First, I smelled it; the spiciness was overwhelming. I closed my eyes briefly and took a small bite.

Chew! Chew! Chew some more!

A few seconds later, he let out a long breath, "It worked."

Meng Ying looked at him: "It really works?"

Shen Yiming nodded: "My mind has already left that gas chamber."

Da Yan was skeptical, but he took one anyway. As soon as the spicy strip entered his mouth, the sugar and chili oil hit his tongue, and the nausea in his stomach was actually suppressed quite a bit.

"Damn." Da Yan looked at the half-eaten spicy strip in his hand, "It actually works."

Meng Ying also reached out and took one, biting it very carefully and savoring it slowly.

She wrinkled her nose and chewed a couple of times as the chili oil got on her lips.

The artificial flavoring spread in her mouth, and the tightness in her throat eased a little. "I think... I don't feel as nauseous anymore."

Shen Yiming said in a low voice, "Because you've established a new anchor point."

Big Smoke chimed in: "A sweet and spicy anchor point?"

He Rihuo added from the corner, "Five cents for meditation."

The style of the safe house began to veer off course.

The guests, who were still in shock, sat up straight one by one.

Shen Yiming holds spicy strips in a manner similar to holding an award-winning script.

Meng Ying took a bite, paused for two seconds, and earnestly felt the power that "pulled people back to the human world".

After finishing one cigarette, Da Yan took a second one, chewing and commenting: "Rough on the palate, but with a lingering aftertaste, and a solid emotional impact."

The surrounding staff members couldn't control their expressions when they heard this, and the cameraman carrying the camera started shaking.

The atmosphere inside the broadcast van was eerie.

Yan Ji stared at the screen, where top male stars, leading actresses, rappers, and veteran variety show hosts were gathered around half a bag of spicy strips, engaging in a kind of mental reconstruction.

The extreme panic, desperate pressure, and lingering fear of death that he originally designed were so badly damaged by this five-cent spicy snack that even the subtitles were hard to match.

Old Fang stood to the side, trying to hold back, but he couldn't help himself.

"Mr. Yan, if this segment airs..."

Yan Ji turned his head, and Lao Fang shut up.

Yan Ji slammed his hand on the control panel. "What are you broadcasting? Is this some kind of escape room competition or a spicy snack appreciation event?"

The console was jolted by the slap, and the mouse in the technician's hand almost flew out of his hand.

Jiang Yan remained silent, watching the group of people on the screen earnestly munching on spicy snacks, then seeing Lu Yuan holding his lunchbox with a puzzled expression, and her shoulders twitched slightly.

She turned her head and looked out the car window.

Don't laugh, she's a security consultant, she needs to be professional!

Inside the safe house, Shen Yiming's hands stopped shaking; Meng Ying's breathing became smoother; Da Yan even had the strength to open her lunchbox and take a bite of beef brisket.

"Ugh, it's hot."

Lu Yuan glanced at him: "Nonsense, it'll get cold if we don't eat it soon."

Everyone finally picked up their chopsticks.

Braised chicken drumsticks, braised beef brisket, rice, and spicy strips.

The psychological reconstruction after surviving the ordeal ultimately relies on carbohydrates and seasonings to complete the cycle.

Lu Yuan took out a tissue, wiped the red oil from his lips, then unscrewed the thermos and took a sip of goji berry water.

He leaned back in his chair and let out a long sigh. "Putting everything else aside, the boxed lunches on this show are alright."

Inside the broadcast van, Yan Ji clutched his chest, almost unable to catch his breath.

The announcement came over the loudspeaker again: "After the break, please proceed to the next stage."

Around the round table, a few people had just retrieved nerves from the gas chamber.

"Seriously?" Big Smoke stared at the ceiling. "Can't we have at least ten minutes to process this?"

He Rihuo had already stood up, his hands clasped together in a practiced gesture. "The production team won't let you process this; they'll only make you pass on to the afterlife."

Lu Yuan put the last piece of beef brisket into his mouth. "Let's go, the sooner we finish recording, the sooner we can go back. Lao Liu's automatic feeder will only last until nine o'clock tonight."

The door opened, revealing a row of eerie green guide lights that stretched from the entrance into the depths of the corridor, like a path leading to the underworld. The walls were peeling, the ceiling low, and an old-fashioned fluorescent light above flickered on and off. Several people walked along the light trail.

Shen Yiming took the lead; he didn't want a repeat of the embarrassing scene from the previous round. He needed to salvage some of the face of the regular guests.

Da Yan walked in the middle and whispered to He Rihuo, "Teacher He, when you recorded these kinds of lights before, was there always something behind them?"

He Rihuo glanced at Lu Yuan, "There was something before, but it's hard to say today."

"What do you mean?"

"We used to be afraid of the production team," He Rihuo said in a low voice, "but today the production team is afraid too."

No one refuted this statement.

After turning the last corner, a wide-open space suddenly appeared before me.

A spacious triage hall.

Half of the words "Qingshan Mental Health Rehabilitation Center Guidance Desk" on the wall were missing, and yellowed medical record folders were scattered on the floor. The waiting chairs were crookedly arranged in two rows. In the center of the hall was a guidance desk with dried brown marks on the surface, and a rusty call bell was placed next to it.

Five manila envelopes were neatly arranged in the center of the information desk.

An announcement blared: "The road ahead is blocked. We are now entering the single-player extreme mission phase."

"Please take turns drawing a task envelope and go to the designated area to find clues. After completing the task, return to the triage hall to meet up."