Weird Live Broadcast: I Can Deduce Endlessly - Chapter 176: Dennis's Bet

“New here?”

“Yes.”

“Go work in this mine.”

The supervisor shook his head, issued Dennis his tools, and then stopped paying any further attention. People like him didn’t last an hour in the mines; he just hoped Dennis would die far away.

Dennis, carrying his tools, quickly started working. Although he didn’t say a word, his ears were not idle.

“How come the new guy isn’t wearing a mask?”

“Does he want to die?”

“Shall we make a bet? I bet he dies within thirty minutes, one year off my sentence.”

“He looks strong; I bet an hour, one year off my sentence.”

So, sentences could be traded?

That means there are ways to reduce one’s sentence other than just working.

Thinking this, Dennis immediately straightened up and approached these workers, extending three fingers, saying:

“Count me in. If I don’t last thirty minutes, I’ll give each of you three years from my pay. If I do, each of you will give me one year. How about it?”

There were five workers participating in the bet, and the gamble didn’t seem to favor Dennis’s side.

“Deal, we’ll take that bet!”

The workers witnessed each other’s promises, making an oath.

Even if Dennis died before thirty minutes, the workers had ways to “transfer” their own sentence to Dennis, so they weren’t worried about him reneging on the deal.

“Ok.”

Dennis turned back to work.

Meanwhile, the others went about their tasks while watching Dennis for entertainment.

Surprisingly, not only did Dennis not show any signs of discomfort, but he also worked with increasing vigor. After ten minutes, the others began to notice something odd.

Dennis wasn’t breathing.

Thirty minutes in, Dennis extended his right hand towards them, “I’ve lasted more than thirty minutes. Shouldn’t you be giving me what you owe?”

“You monster…”

“Are you a modified human?”

“How could a modified human be a third-class citizen?”

The workers were frustrated but extended their right hands nonetheless.

Dennis carefully observed their actions. They slid their wrists in a ‘z’ pattern, then pressed their wrists against his. Immediately, his sentence was reduced by one year.

Dennis mimicked their action, sliding a ‘z’ on his wrist, finally seeing his remaining sentence: 999,999,995 years.

“Hey, are you really a modified human?”

“Yeah, did you get demoted from a first-class citizen? Do first-class citizens eat two eggs with every meal?”

Dennis ignored their questions and continued to work.

Without more knowledge of the world’s background, he dared not say much. Seeing Dennis unwilling to chat, the workers turned back to their tasks.

Dennis was fearless, relying on his unique talent.

A-class talent, Zombie Constitution.

This constitution significantly boosts human endurance, allowing one to stay awake for three days and nights, immune to suffocation and poison, but unable to eat normal food, only raw or rotten food. That’s why Dennis could breathe nothing at all and still wasn’t afraid of the mine’s toxins.

…

Flowers bloom on both sides, each telling its own story.

Most adventurers, after securing their first job, headed straight to the mines to work.

Some careless adventurers were penalized for having mud on their shoes and leaves in their hair and were sent to jail. Now, before even the first day’s noon, less than twenty adventurers remained.

While everyone else was scrambling, Hattori Kanon was the only one with time to wander.

Kanon found citizen handbooks A, B, and C in the prison. Third-class citizens must follow all three, second-class only B and C, and first-class only C.

Additionally, Kanon was lucky to draw an SSS-class talent, “Hive Mind.”

This talent could connect with adventurers in other dungeons, gathering more intelligence.

However, this powerful ability seemed somewhat redundant in this dungeon, as the use of Hive Mind required a network or similar technology (like the Magic Network in magical worlds).

As a third-class citizen, Kanon had no right to use the Internet.

Before that, she needed to find a quick way to get promoted.

Unlike others, Kanon didn’t need to wear a sack over her head; a helmet that continuously provided “dirty air” was enough, but it could only be used for one day.

This was the second benefit of being born in prison.

Kanon first went to the contamination station.

“Hello, I’m looking for a job.”

“Show me your sentence.”

Kanon, mimicking others, extended her right hand. The worker tested it and said, “You’re a third-class citizen; you can only work in the mines.”

“Mining?”

“Yes.”

“Do you see these thin arms and legs? How can I mine?”

“Sorry, I can’t help you.” The worker pointed to a pile of breathing equipment, “You need to wear a breathing mask to go to the mine, ten years off your sentence per hour. You can pay off the debt when you return. Do you want to rent one?”

“Not for now.”

Kanon shook her head and left the shelter.

Selling physical labor was something lower-class people did, and simply selling labor couldn’t possibly meet the mission’s target in just a month.

There had to be a better way!

The A-level rules required third-class citizens not to communicate with higher-class citizens, so even if Kanon encountered higher-class citizens on the street, she couldn’t approach them.

Losing the channel of communication naturally blocked the path to ascension.

After a moment of thought, Kanon didn’t believe this world offered only one path, so she wandered the city, eventually discovering something unusual in a back alley.

This area had no patrolling police robots, only a service robot hovering above the street, its appearance rusted, making creaking noises as it moved.

Here were all third-class citizens, but Kanon noticed their skin was much smoother, with hardly any calluses on their palms.

Clearly, they were not physical laborers.

Perhaps, she could learn from them a way to make money.

Deep in the streets, Kanon found a man with a cold gaze, the only person not wearing a sack or helmet on his head. He looked at her menacingly, as if he wanted to devour her.

She was somewhat afraid.

However, as A-level rules specified that third-class citizens couldn’t use any violence, and with service robots overhead, Kanon felt secure.

“New face, first time on Black Street?”

“Yes.”

“Ha, something must’ve happened at home, huh? Did you revolt?”