# Chapter 132: Non-Player Survivor
The spinning pointer stopped at the position of the duckbill cap wearer. He, along with those behind him, instinctively jumped away from the pointer.
Xu Huo took two steps forward and suddenly said, "I'm in a life-or-death round. You won't snatch my props, right?"
Feng Ge smiled without speaking. The tall, thin man in camouflage wiped his gun and said, "Our Feng Ge doesn't think much of your items."
"Good then." Xu Huo quickly walked to the black circle at the base of the pointer. The moment he stepped inside, everything around him was once again absorbed into pure whiteness.
This time, suspended before him was a twenty-four-grid turntable slightly larger than before. Black and white grids each occupied half, with a black pointer. Still a ten-minute countdown.
He didn't rush to take out the two-color Rubik's Cube. Instead, he stood three meters away from the turntable and raised his hand.
The far side of the turntable instantly vaporized into mist, then condensed before his finger. The countdown numbers were magnified in an instant.
However, Xu Huo didn't turn the pointer. He simply waited for the time to decrease.
He felt no discomfort during the first five minutes, but when the countdown began with "4," a scene suddenly surfaced in his mind—the undertaker announcing the game rules. The six rules repeated over and over, followed by the sight of those people exploding.
Everyone died from an unknown power. There was no way to trace the source, no possibility of defense. Once the pointer landed on a black grid, death was the only outcome. No one could save you.
He only had ten minutes. If he gambled, maybe he could land on a white grid...
His brows furrowed tighter and tighter. Xu Huo's gaze at the countdown grew increasingly anxious. When only three minutes remained in the countdown, an almost transparent iron chain appeared in the space. One end wrapped around the turntable, the other around his wrist, pulling and guiding him to raise his hand.
An illusion? Or the power of the turntable?
His extended hand hadn't yet touched the pointer when a sudden pain struck the back of his hand. He blinked, and the iron chain vanished.
"Just over a minute left. He doesn't think he can just wait out the ten minutes without spinning, does he?" Outside, the tall, burly man in camouflage stared maliciously at the Painting Woman standing beside Xu Huo. "This is a space created by a high-level prop. Even if you don't want to spin, in the end, you won't have a choice."
The Painting Woman rolled her eyes and typed on her phone the word she had just learned: "Idiot!"
The tall, burly man in camouflage slammed his fist on the ground and stood up, but just then Xu Huo reached out a third time. He immediately froze, only to see that the white bar on the back of Xu Huo's hand had disappeared!
"Failed." Xu Huo's eyes regained their clarity. He turned back to look at Feng Ge and his two companions. "I landed on a black grid."
Feng Ge's face turned ugly for a moment. "Why didn't you use your prop?"
"My prop isn't effective every time." Xu Huo said simply, then stepped aside with the Painting Woman.
At this moment, on the nearby turntable, a group of people were trying their best to stay away from the pointer to avoid the life-or-death round. But after the pointer stopped, everyone in the grid where it landed became dazed or frantic—clearly, all of them had been simultaneously pulled into the life-or-death round.
What followed was an intermittent bloody explosion. The same situation occurred on several other turntables. On one of them, people had hidden in grids far from the pointer, but in the end, they were still randomly selected.
Xu Huo glanced at the grids where explosions had occurred on several turntables. His eyes flickered slightly.
"Idiot." Feng Ge sneered coldly, then turned back to scan the crowd. He casually pointed at a woman holding a child. "Next."
"Cough cough!" The duckbill cap wearer cleared his throat. "Let me do it this time."
He was about to step forward when the tall, burly man in camouflage pushed him back. "Is it your turn to play the hero? Get lost."
The duckbill cap wearer wanted to argue, but seeing the gun aimed at him, he swallowed his words.
Over there, Feng Ge said, "It's best not to waste your survival chance. If you want to go on the road, I can send you off."
The woman who had been singled out tearfully handed her child to someone nearby. But the old gentleman who had been following Xu Huo stopped her. He took the initiative to say to Feng Ge, "As long as it's not the player you mentioned, anyone else is fine, right?"
Feng Ge nodded.
The old gentleman turned back to the woman and those who wanted to dissuade him. "I've lived sixty or seventy years—I've had my fill. Dying now wouldn't be a loss. You young people need to live well. If you live, the country has hope, the children have hope."
After finishing, he straightened his clothes, took out his wife's ring and put it on his finger, then calmly walked toward the spinning pointer and stood directly inside the circle.
Xu Huo asked him from outside, "Old sir, are you afraid of death?"
"Haha!" The old gentleman laughed heartily. "When I was young, I also served in the military. If you're afraid of death, you can't carry a gun!"
Xu Huo smiled slightly. "Good luck to you."
The pointer soon stopped. The ten-minute countdown began. The old gentleman started narrating what he saw:
"It's all white... There's a twenty-four-grid turntable... White pointer... The turntable can still move, but I can't hit it or touch it... I'm going to spin..."
At this moment, Xu Huo drew his dagger, walked up to him, took his hand, and carved two characters into his palm: Don't Spin.
Feng Ge narrowed his eyes at the sight but didn't speak.
The countdown quickly neared its end. Although the old gentleman gestured to indicate he had received the message, in the final ten seconds, he still spun the pointer. Subsequently, a white bar appeared on the back of his hand.
The duckbill cap wearer and the others behind him burst into joyful cheers. The old gentleman who had come out of the life-or-death round couldn't believe it himself. "I'm actually still alive!"
"I just wanted to take a gamble. If I got lucky, maybe I could save one more person. I never thought it would actually succeed!"
"It's probably good people being rewarded." Xu Huo said with a smile.
"This old man is really lucky!" The tall, burly man in camouflage muttered. But Feng Ge didn't think so. He looked at Xu Huo, his gun aimed in the direction of the Painting Woman and Wang Chaoqing. "Brother, you've figured out some trick, haven't you? Don't keep it to yourself. Spill it."
"Just a guess." Xu Huo said. "I think this turntable isn't unsolvable. It seems like there's only one option after entering the life-or-death round, but actually, there's a second one."
"And that is—not turning the pointer."
"That's impossible. Everyone who enters the life-or-death round must turn the pointer." Feng Ge said decisively.
"Are you one hundred percent certain, or is it just that you've never seen it happen?" Xu Huo countered. "Props should all have usage limits. A prop that guarantees one hundred percent death with no possibility of survival doesn't conform to prop rules."
"Some people can obtain survival chances." Feng Ge said.
"Black and white grids each occupy half—a fifty percent chance. How many people have you encountered so far who obtained survival chances? Players don't count."
Feng Ge glanced at the old gentleman. "Only him. The others were all players. Players can use props to cheat."
"So it seems that even though life and death each account for half, for every individual, the possibility of landing on the life half is extremely low." Xu Huo said. "And just now, the old gentleman actually could have chosen not to turn the pointer. He made his choice in a state of extreme clarity."
"Therefore, it's worth trying the second option—not turning the pointer."