Horror Movie Set: This extra is too good at playing the tricks.

Chapter 95 Live Sashimi, Scalding Hot Chicken Feet

The conveyor belt in the center of the table made a rustling sound as the first dish, covered by a silver semi-circular lid, slowly slid to the front of the blue team.

The invisible wall surrounding the two of them transformed into a circle, blocking their view from the outside world.

"I'll do it!" The burly black man stepped forward first. He walked to the food cart, reached out and lifted a corner of the lid. Just glancing at it out of the corner of his eye, his originally tight lips twitched.

Then, a nauseating fishy smell wafted through the air.

"Please begin."

The chef's voice hovered overhead, carrying a hint of mockery.

On the red team's side, Ye Jianguo put on a heavy black blindfold. With his vision deprived, his hearing became exceptionally sharp.

He heard the heavy breathing of the black man opposite him, and the subtle sound of him holding his breath.

"Hey, my name is Geese, and this is a plate of rotten meat." The black man spoke, his Chinese was broken, but the disgust in his tone didn't seem fake.

"It was covered in white maggots, still crawling around. The flesh was green, and it was oozing yellow pus. Oh, it smelled just like a dead rat."

His voice trembled, and he even paused for a moment, gagging. "Oh, this is definitely swill, it's punishment! If you chose [faith], you'd eat these maggots."

Ye Jianguo's hands hung at his sides, his fists clenched until they turned white, as he rapidly constructed logic in his mind.

If this were rotten meat, Geese should describe it as an absolute delicacy to lure himself into eating it.

So he's lying? This is good meat?

Ye Jianguo frowned; this seemed too simple.

Would the other party use such a low-level reverse psychology?

"That's not right." Ye Jianguo's mind began to shift. He was acting too disgustingly; it's hard to act out physiological gagging so realistically.

How do you distinguish between good and bad meat?

Is this the Blue Team's subjective opinion, or the Chef's objective assessment?

"Hey, over there." Geese's voice came again, this time with a hint of anxiety and sincerity, "I suggest you refuse. This stuff is really inedible, I'm about to throw up."

Time passed slowly, and Ye Jianguo remained hesitant.

With only 10 seconds left in the countdown, Geese suddenly changed his tone.

He said mockingly, "Hehe, just kidding. Actually, this is a plate of freshly sliced, top-quality sashimi. It tastes delicious. Eat it quickly, don't waste it."

This sentence struck Ye Jianguo's logic like a hammer blow.

Why did he admit at the last minute that it was good meat?

Was it because I didn't react that he got impatient and tried to confuse the issue with his last truth?

Or was all that disgusting performance just a setup? And is this last sentence the real killer move?

Ye Jianguo leaned his head toward the direction he heard it, but he felt nothing.

time does not wait.

"3, 2..."

"I choose doubt!" Ye Jianguo roared, veins bulging on his forehead.

He was gambling, gambling that Geese's last words, "It's good stuff," were a real lie, gambling that Geese wanted to take advantage of his eagerness for quick success and his fear of making mistakes.

But what he fears least is making mistakes. Whether they are right or wrong, he has already found ways to remind his teammates.

In Gis's view, on the plate was a giant golden toad, its skin peeled off and twitching slightly, its flesh translucent and glistening.

Although it looks terrifying, it is definitely a top-quality fresh ingredient in the diet of bizarre creatures.

"Pity."

The chef's voice didn't sound like he was disappointed; instead, it was full of excitement.

"The red team members have made a choice—doubtful."

The judgment result is—Error!

"Blue Team's Geese wasn't lying; this is a top-quality toad sashimi. You've insulted my sincerity!"

Ye Jianguo froze as he removed his blindfold.

Is it really good quality meat?

"As punishment," the chef's tone turned icy, "since you're unwilling to accept kindness, then accept malice."

Darkness dripped down from the ceiling onto Ye Jianguo, and a pale, slender arm drooped down from the void directly above, silently gripping Ye Jianguo's shoulder.

"drink!"

Ye Jianguo was about to unleash his power to break free.

"Snap!"

Instead of attacking his vital points, the ghost hand slid down his spine and grabbed his legs.

The excruciating pain came even slower than the sound; in an instant, Ye Jianguo felt as if his lower body had been stuffed into a meat grinder.

"Ahhhhh!"

Screams shattered the restaurant's silence, and blood gushed out like a fountain.

The demonic hand ripped Ye Jianguo's legs off at the knees, leaving jagged, broken ends.

"Team Leader Ye!"

Da Lu's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets as he frantically rushed forward, trying to drag Ye Jianguo back.

Chen Hua flicked his baton and slammed it down on Ghost Hand.

But the stick passed right through the ghostly figure, striking the ground and sending sparks flying.

The ghostly hand, clutching two bloody calves, retreated back into the ceiling.

Ye Jianguo lay in a pool of blood, his whole body convulsing with excruciating pain.

Da Lu frantically pulled out hemostatic spray and regenerative bandages, trembling as he wrapped them around the horrific wound.

"Leave me alone!"

Ye Jianguo grabbed Lu Dan's collar, his hands covered in blood, which he smeared all over Lu Dan's clothes. His eyes were glazed over from the intense pain.

"Listen... Ah Dan..." he gasped for breath, "The temperature... that dish isn't hot..."

Everyone around was stunned.

"What?" Lu Dan leaned closer, his eyes serious.

"When that black guy lifted the lid, no heat came out..." Ye Jianguo gritted his teeth, using the last bit of his conscious mind, "It was alive... still beating... in this godforsaken place... good things are cold... alive..."

After saying this, Ye Jianguo's head lolled to the side, and he fainted from the pain.

Lu Dan slowly straightened up, letting Ye Jianguo's blood stain his shoes.

He turned his head, wanting to look at the blue team opposite him, but was blocked by the blackened invisible wall.

Good meat is cold and alive.

Lu Dan repeated this sentence to himself.

In the human world, steaming hot food represents freshness, deliciousness, and safety. But in this restaurant, it seems to be the opposite.

Lu Dan said in a low voice, his voice cold: "Don't let Team Leader Ye bleed in vain."

With red eyes, Da Lu dragged Ye Jianguo to a corner and poured an expensive recovery potion down his throat.

"Next game."

Lu Dan turned around, his gaze sharp as a knife, and stared straight at Bao Ping, who was cowering in the back.

"Master Bao, it's your turn."

Bao Ping shuddered. He looked at the blood all over the ground, then at Ye Jianguo, whose life was uncertain. His teeth chattered and he made a gurgling sound.

"Brother Lu, they're so tough on the other side, I can't handle it..."

"You can do it." Lu Dan walked over and straightened his collar. "Remember what Team Leader Ye said: temperature, pay attention to the temperature."

Bao Ping took a deep breath, and with trembling hands, picked up the eye mask stained with Ye Jianguo's blood and put it on his head.

……

"Blue Team, please serve the dishes," the chef's voice rang out again.

This time, it was a young man with dyed yellow hair who stepped forward. He looked at the miserable state of the red team, his face full of smugness and contempt.

"Hey, sir." The blond guy walked up to the invisible wall with a tray in his hand. "Stop shaking, did you wet your pants?"

He lifted the lid, and a strong aroma of fried food instantly filled the air.

The plate contained a pile of fried chicken feet, golden brown and crispy, with the nails curled up from the frying, still emitting scalding hot steam and oil.

"Listen up!" The blond-haired guy slammed the plate down on the table with a loud bang. "This is good stuff, freshly cooked golden chicken feet, they smell amazing! The chef specially prepared this for you bunch of good-for-nothings, it'll help you get calcium."

His tone was perfunctory, and he was even too lazy to make up lies.

In his view, the opponent had already been terrified by the first round, and this uncle was a coward who could be completely broken down with just a few words of intimidation.

Bao Ping gripped the hem of his clothes tightly, his body trembling.

"Really?" Bao Ping's voice was choked with sobs, sounding weak and helpless. "Brother, please don't kill me! I have elderly parents and young children to support, I don't want to die!"

This behavior greatly satisfied Huang Mao's vanity. He leaned forward, completely relaxed, and even rested his elbows directly on the table, only centimeters away from the scalding hot fried fingers.

"Why would I harm you?" the blond-haired man sneered, his eyes full of mockery. "It really is good stuff, crispy on the outside and tender on the inside. Eat it quickly, or it will get cold and won't taste good."

As soon as he said that, a glint of gold flashed in Lu Dan's eyes as he stood behind him: Fool!

At the same time, Bao Ping, who had been trembling all along, stopped, and his shrewd little eyes opened beneath his blindfold.

He was listening—

First, the sound of the plate hitting the table was crisp and heavy. This indicates that the contents of the plate were hard and dry.

If it's a piece of fresh meat or a soft, tender ingredient, the plate should make a muffled thud in addition to the clanging sound.

The second, and most crucial, point is...

"It won't taste good when it's cold." Perhaps Huang Mao's IQ was too low, because this casual taunt completely exposed his true intentions.

The other party is lying; this is a plate of steaming garbage.

Bao Ping's sobbing stopped abruptly.

He slowly raised his head, and although he was wearing an eye patch, he inexplicably gave off a chill—the rat cornered against the wall revealed its fangs.

"You're lying!"

The blond-haired man's smile froze. "What did you say? You damned bastard—"

"I choose doubt!" Bao Ping shouted suddenly. "I refuse to eat this!"

The air froze for a second, and then a red indicator light lit up above Bao Ping's head.

"Absolutely correct!"

The chef's voice carried a hint of surprise, which then turned into high-spirited excitement: "The Red Team made an accurate judgment; this is a plate of inferior fried chicken feet, which is considered waste food."

"The Blue Team's recommender was caught lying. According to the rules, the liar must suffer the consequences and bear double the curse."

The contempt in the blond-haired man's eyes instantly turned into extreme terror.

He tried to back away and escape the table, but an invisible force held his body captive.

"No, I won't eat this! How can I eat this?" The blond-haired man struggled desperately, but his hands reached for the plate uncontrollably.

He frantically stuffed the scalding hot chicken feet into his mouth.

"Sizzle sizzle—"

The sound of scalding meat filled the air.

"Ugh..." Hot oil dripped down the corner of the blond man's mouth, burning a series of blisters.

His tongue and mouth were instantly scalded and cooked, leaving him only able to utter muffled sobs.

Even more terrifying is the double curse.

The swallowed chicken feet scratched and tore inside his throat and esophagus, trying to break free.

Yellow Hair collapsed to the ground in agony, rolling around on the floor, clutching his own neck tightly.

Bao Ping took off his blindfold, his back completely soaked with sweat.

"We won!" He gasped for breath as he ran towards Lu Dan. "Brother Lu, I didn't let us down, did I?"

"Well done, Master Bao." Lu Dan turned his head and looked at the last person left on the other side—a woman wearing thick-rimmed glasses who had been silent all along.

The woman pushed up her glasses and coldly looked at her companion rolling on the ground.