Highway 11

By the time Bai Ci's consciousness warmed up and thawed, she had no idea how much time had passed, and the surrounding temperature had shifted from freezing cold to scorching heat.

“Wow, such lively music. Radio, how did your taste change so much?” Bai Ci was a bit surprised to hear the radio playing a rowdy rock song.

Only after she finished speaking did she remember that she had requested it herself.

“I wish I could find a crack in the ground to crawl into. The temperature underground would be lower, a perfect place to escape this heat.”

But she couldn't leave the car, so it was nothing more than a joke.

The trench coat wrapped around her had become stiflingly hot. By the time Bai Ci took it off, beads of sweat were already forming on her forehead.

Under this continuous dry heat, she felt as if every inch of her skin was about to crack.

Dry heat, Bai Ci concluded in her mind.

The dry heat didn't last long, quickly giving way to a heavy, damp heat.

The air was thick with a sticky humidity, like sitting in a sauna. The sweat on her body couldn't evaporate, clinging to her skin in a sticky, suffocating layer that made it hard to breathe.

Damp heat.

Combining this with the hot spring experience zone she had gone through earlier, regardless of which was which, she had now experienced all three: the Copper Column Hell, the Volcano Hell, and the Steamer Hell.

Bai Ci's consciousness began to fade as exhaustion and discomfort washed over her.

Leaning back in her seat, her eyelids grew heavier. The rain outside the window pattered on relentlessly, and the radio had switched back to soft, light music at some point.

But everything was growing increasingly faint.

She knew she couldn't fall asleep—there was no telling what might happen if she did—but her physical exhaustion and the baking heat made the onslaught of drowsiness impossible to resist.

Just as she was about to lose consciousness completely and black out, she felt a sudden, cool touch brush across her forehead.

The touch was very gentle, like someone lightly tapping her with their fingertips, easing her mind as she drifted off.

Bai Ci didn't have time to think any further before her vision went black. She lost consciousness entirely and fell into a deep coma.

During her period of unconsciousness, the vehicle continued to glide smoothly along under autopilot.

As it passed through that stretch of road, the red rain gradually subsided, and the temperature inside the cabin slowly returned to normal.

Who knew how much time had passed when Bai Ci opened her eyes again. The harsh, bright light made her squint instinctively, and she had to wait a moment to adjust.

She found herself still sitting in the car, which had parked in a space at a gas station. Everything had returned to a peaceful quiet.

She rubbed her temples, instinctively scanning the dashboard and the center console.

The fuel gauge showed a full tank, and the navigation map displayed only three hours remaining until her destination.

Next, Bai Ci picked up the trench coat from the passenger seat and felt the pockets. Both the Stamp Book and the folded letter were still inside.

Checking more closely, the letter remained unchanged, but in the Stamp Book, a bright red stamp had appeared in the third blank space.

The stamp read: Yefu District Tourism Bureau Stamp.

Bai Ci froze. She remembered that before she lost consciousness, she was still on her way to the third gas station. How could she have already arrived, with the stamp already pressed, the moment she woke up?

Was she possessed by a ghost, or was it a ghost tricking her eyes?

She looked up at the center console. Wasn't there a ghost right here? Testing the waters, she asked, “Did you do this?”

There was no response from the car radio, only the soothing, light music continuing to play.

Bai Ci wasn't discouraged. She softly murmured, “Thank you.”

She had a vague idea now of who the radio host, Beiguan, actually was.

To be absolutely safe, Bai Ci pushed open the car door and stepped out to confirm her surroundings.

The layout of this third gas station was almost identical to the first.

The facilities were brand new, the lights bright. The place was empty of staff and other vehicles, with only a few streetlights illuminating the stamp station in the center.

She walked over to the machine at the stamp station and, following the previous procedure, placed the Stamp Book on the center of the platform.

The machine emitted a soft beep, and the screen displayed the words: "Stamped. No need to repeat the operation."

Once she confirmed everything was correct, Bai Ci leaned against the stamp machine and began to review the events of her journey so far, calculating the dangers she might face next.

Before passing out, she had experienced three phases of temperature changes: freezing cold, dry heat, and damp heat. Together with the previous hot spring zone, these corresponded to the Ice Mountain Hell, Volcano Hell, Copper Column Hell, and Steamer Hell.

Regardless of which was which, she had successfully passed through all the temperature-related hells.

This was something she had already figured out right before losing consciousness; she was merely organizing her thoughts now.

Going further back, the sound of grinding meat and the chainsaw noise before the first gas station could probably be categorized as two separate events.

The sound of grinding meat likely corresponded to the Stone Mill Hell, while the chainsaw noise corresponded to the Saw Hell.

As for the crying of the infant earlier, the only thing she could associate it with was the Stone Press Hell, which was meant to punish those who abandoned or murdered babies.

Along with the Mountain of Knives Hell, the Ox Pit Hell, and the Wok of Boiling Oil Hell that she had deduced at the very beginning, she had already gone through a large portion of the Eighteen Levels of Hell.

The remaining ones were the Tongue Ripping Hell, the Scissors Hell, the Mirror of Retribution Hell, the Iron Tree Hell, the Dismemberment Hell, and the Hell of Unjust Death.

No, wait, it should be five.

The sin corresponding to the Hell of Unjust Death was suicide, which was what that forged letter had tried to lure her into doing.

She just didn't know whether she had already cleared it, or if she was currently in the middle of it.

Bai Ci's thoughts gradually became clearer.

As for the Dismemberment Hell, Bai Ci had a rather deep impression of it, because when she first saw it, she didn't even recognize the first character, zhe.

The character zhe was pronounced in the second tone, and the punishment itself referred to dismemberment.

This particular level of hell seemed to be related to grave-digging and tomb-robbing.

It was true that she had dug up a grave in the previous instance, but surely they wouldn't hold a grudge across different instances? Otherwise, all the players would be deemed heinous sinners.

The tests were likely based on things that happened within this current instance. For now, she could put grave-digging aside; she really couldn't imagine what kind of situation would prompt a player to dig up a grave here anyway.

As for tomb-robbing, did that mean stealing things from the dead?

If so, could that be extended to simply taking things from a dead person?

Bai Ci recalled the disheveled man she had met at the first gas station—the only creature she had encountered along this road that actually looked like a human.

He had taken a down jacket off a dead body and even urged her to do the same. That must have been an attempt to lure her into committing the corresponding sin, right?

With those ruled out, the only remaining hells were the Tongue Ripping Hell, the Scissors Hell, the Mirror of Retribution Hell, and the Iron Tree Hell.

The Tongue Ripping Hell punished those who lied, spread rumors, or harmed others with malicious words.

The Scissors Hell punished those who instigated widows to remarry or destroyed others' marriages.

Bai Ci had always found the setup of this hell a bit strange. Punishing those who ruined marriages made sense under normal logic, but what was wrong with a widow remarrying?

Did they really have to stay faithful to a dead person forever?

Setting aside modern concepts like freedom of marriage, most ancient dynasties actually encouraged widows to remarry.

While there might be some extreme circumstances where urging a widow to remarry was a bad thing, the act itself could hardly be considered evil.

The Mirror of Retribution Hell used a mirror to expose all of a person's sins. Presumably, it would involve some sort of mirror-like object.

The Iron Tree Hell was somewhat similar to the Tongue Ripping Hell, but seemed to focus more on punishing those who sowed discord among family members.

Bai Ci tried her best to recall. It should be something like that.