Chapter 259: Trapped in the Oxygen-Deprived Room

A faint "thud" followed the disappearance of the fat man.

“Damn it!” Jing Shu stomped her foot in frustration. She had only managed to catch a glimpse of the fat man dropping down through a trapdoor before the floor tile immediately slid back into place, as if nothing had happened. She couldn't figure out how he triggered the mechanism—maybe it was something like the trapdoor mechanism Jing Shu had at her villa entrance, one that could only be activated from one side. Or perhaps the fat man had prepped the trapdoor beforehand and slowly walked over it.

In any case, Jing Shu's reflexes were not fast enough this time, or else she would've shot him. Who would've thought that a man being held at gunpoint would suddenly disappear like that? The fat man certainly deserved an award for his acting—one minute he was complaining, and the next, he vanished without a trace. Definitely premeditated.

And so, it seemed that Su Mali's life really was like a soap opera. Even here, they had encountered a hidden trap straight out of a TV show! Jing Shu, who had lived two lifetimes, had never run into anything like this.

"He's gone, escaped. Looks like we're trapped in this room. Let's start searching for an exit." Jing Shu holstered her gun and crouched down, tapping the floor tile that had swallowed the fat man. It sounded no different from the surrounding tiles—not hollow.

One of the bodyguards started searching the corners of the room for any hidden mechanisms, while the other examined the door.

Su Mali, curious, walked over to the door. “Wang Chuang, didn’t you say you were trained in emergency escape? Can you get this door open?”

The bearded man shook his head. “This is a solid stainless steel vault door, with reinforced bolts. The bolts are secured from the outside, and there’s no way to open it from inside. Even shooting at it won’t help, unlike other doors where we could shoot the lock. I’d say this room used to be the vault for a casino, used to store money.”

Jing Shu kicked the door several times, but the sound that came back was dull and heavy. If it had been a regular wooden door, she would’ve broken it down already.

“So, what you’re saying is that the door can’t be opened from here, and it’s too strong to break through. So we’re stuck?” Jing Shu asked, narrowing her eyes.

Wang Chuang nodded. “Exactly. And since this is a sealed room, we’ll eventually run out of air. If they don’t open the door for us soon, we could die from lack of oxygen.”

“Can we blow the door open with explosives?” Jing Shu asked. If worst came to worst, she had explosives stashed away in her spatial pocket. She wasn’t about to just sit here and wait to die—waiting passively was far too dangerous, especially since they didn’t even know what the fat man’s true intentions were. Jing Shu, having already died once, feared death more than ever.

But Wang Chuang shook his head. “Enough explosives to blow open that door would kill us too. There’s nowhere to hide in here.”

Jing Shu sighed. She had acquired those explosives from the syndicate leader, but it seemed they wouldn’t help her now.

Su Mali’s eyes widened, the gravity of their situation finally hitting her. “So that’s why the door was always left open before... Da Mao, have you found where the fat man escaped?”

The bodyguard named Da Mao, a stoic and sturdy man in his early thirties, shook his head. “I checked for any danger when we first entered. There were no visible switches, cameras, or listening devices. The fat man didn’t touch anything, so it’s likely controlled centrally. Most vaults have a central control system.”

Su Mali sighed deeply. “If only we’d brought a satellite phone, we could’ve called for help. Now we’re stuck in a hidden underground vault in a deserted estate. Who would even think to look for us here? I hope Uncle Gou is okay.”

After thoroughly searching the room and finding nothing, the group began to grow anxious. Just as Wang Chuang had predicted, the lack of ventilation in the sealed space was starting to take its toll. Jing Shu could feel herself struggling to take deep breaths, yet still not getting enough air.

“Miss, please drink some warm water and lie down on the couch. Don’t move around or eat anything—it’ll help conserve oxygen,” Da Mao advised as he settled Su Mali onto the sofa.

“Do you need to lie down too?” Da Mao asked Jing Shu.

“No, I’m going to figure something out,” Jing Shu replied. She still didn’t trust anyone entirely, even though Su Mali was confident that Uncle Gou wouldn’t betray them. Jing Shu couldn’t shake the feeling that something had gone wrong.

Regret filled Jing Shu’s mind—why hadn’t she stocked up on portable oxygen tanks in her spatial pocket? It was such a lifesaving tool! Who would have thought that, after being reborn, she’d still end up in a situation where she’d run out of air? There were a thousand ways to die, and it seemed she was fated to encounter one after all!

But even if she took out oxygen tanks now, the others would wonder why she had something so specific.

“Guess I’ll have to rely on you guys. I’ll try to figure out an exit,” Jing Shu said as she examined the tile where the fat man had disappeared. If there was danger down there, well, she’d let the professional bodyguards deal with it.

“What tools do you have? Any specialized pry bars, lock-picking tools, or hammers?” Jing Shu asked.

“I have a survival tool kit, but it’s not really meant for breaking through thick vault walls,” Da Mao replied, pulling out an advanced set of tools: a Swiss Army knife, flashlight, multi-tool, and steel-tipped drill bits.

Jing Shu smiled. That would do. She could work with that.

What happened next stunned both bodyguards. They watched in disbelief as Jing Shu, a seemingly delicate young woman, began hammering the steel-tipped drill into the floor with incredible force. Despite the tool’s small size, it was as if she were wielding a sledgehammer, and before long, she had drilled a hole into the tile.

Wang Chuang could see sparks flying as Jing Shu worked, hammering the drill bit as if it were a nail. Within moments, she had chiseled out a large section of the tile.

By the time Jing Shu had finished, her breathing had grown labored from the lack of oxygen, but she had managed to break through the floor tile. It was an 80x80cm section, a full 20cm thick.