Player Reload

In old cartoons, there's often this scenario—a pair of children stacked on top of each other, wearing adult clothes, disguised as an adult to sneak into a PG-13 or NC-17 movie, or try some amusement park ride with a height restriction.

At this moment, Li Cheng and Oracle were feeling quite the same.

The two of them squeezed through the unlocked security door, climbing up the steps to the grassy surface.

As dusk approached, the sunset melted into the horizon, blending with the golden sea. Several luxury yachts were floating on the waves.

And nearby, seventy meters from the underground prison exit, stood an open bar pavilion.

The pavilion was playing a song titled "Party in the USA", guests in loose beachwear lifted their glasses, drinking with enthusiasm, surrounded by a circle of attractive male and female "masseurs", some of them not even dressed.

'If you throw a brick, you could hit multiple Oscar, Grammy, Emmy, Tony winners.'

Li Cheng clicked his tongue in wonder; the pavilion's guests were all elite figures of the American upper class, the most familiar being the adult men and women stars from the entertainment and sports industries.

These big names, who usually appear perfect in front of the cameras, revealed their true nature on this isolated island, each looking more lewd and vile than the next.

A famous actress was singing her Billboard hit for entertainment, while allowing a handsome Mexican boy to sit on her lap and drink dairy drinks.

An Oscar winner, known in Hollywood for his family-man image, was dutifully talking about his new film due to release next year while a masseur fed him fruit mouth-to-mouth.

An anonymous blockhead-faced director, Quentin Tarantino, poured champagne over a masseur, letting the liquid run down her neck as he knelt to suck her toes into his mouth.

Uh... except that last one is perfectly in character.

"Hey! Stop!"

On the outskirts of the pavilion, a security guard noticed another guard with two bundles under his arms, frowning and asking, "Bob, where are you going?"

As an entertainment spot gathering top American elites, the island's security system was extremely tight, with cameras everywhere and constant patrols.

This is to prevent any daring journalists from sneaking in for a scoop, or the island's 'slaves' from slipping onto a rich man's yacht to escape.

The two players had already anticipated this situation; Oracle quickly lifted the bedrolls bundled together and said calmly, "Mr. Epstein just asked me over the walkie-talkie to deliver these two Svip to a designated room. Any problem?"

In the Killing Field System, the Charm Attribute is the sum of looks, conversation, temperament, and social skills.

Some people may not be conventionally attractive, yet have great charisma, able to get along with anyone and make friends, a sign of high Charm Value.

And if you purely consider looks, a Charm Attribute of 5 points is basically the average for an ordinary person.

A Charm Attribute of 6 points is above the average passerby, somewhat pleasant to look at.

A Charm Attribute of 7 points exceeds school beauties and handsome guys, attracting numerous stares on the street, and with a little makeup, they could debut as idol stars.

A Charm Attribute of 8 points is basically a result of a genetic lottery, producing top-tier handsome men and women, where cosmetic surgery would be considered damaging the cultural heritage of humankind.

Incidentally, in terms of looks alone, the goblin escorts from Evil Science Alliance's nightclubs have an 8-point level. They often go through employee training to develop physical demeanor and phrases to entice customer spending.

However, due to the ingrained nature of the base code, many goblins still snatch fruit platters or make inexplicable "oh ho ho oh oh o" sounds while singing in KTV, leading to their real Charm Attributes usually being only 6-7 points.

The roles that Li Cheng and Oracle are playing have a Charm Value of 8 points each, definitely worthy of special detention.

"Really, I haven't received any notification?"

The security captain frowned, subconsciously about to verify it with his walkie-talkie.

Oracle jumped in at the right moment, "Mr. Epstein is currently holding a confidential discussion with some top VIPs and doesn't want to be disturbed."

The mission briefing had clearly mentioned that there are at least 8 Svip on the island whose status is far above Hollywood celebrities.

Sure enough, hearing this, the security captain hesitated before putting the walkie-talkie down, "Then hurry up with the delivery. Tonight is a big night, don't wander around."

Oracle took a breath, made a bitter face through Bob's skin, and chatted, "Just because it's a big night doesn't mean we're getting paid more."

In the real world, it's revealed that Epstein, along with his mistress, would deceive minors to the island under the guise of hiring masseurs, paying them 200-400 USD per session with a millionaire.

Compared to early 2000s US prices, it wasn't low, but compared to the wealth of these billionaires, it was nothing.

For masseurs, this is the case; the external security staff naturally don't earn high salaries and are just lower-level employees.

Bob's words clearly struck a chord with the security captain who grumbled, "Hmph, definitely. What Sultan, what Prince, what hedge fund founder; no matter how big their name, no tips for us. Go ahead, leave now."

"Okay."

Oracle, holding the two rolls of bedding, walked into the woods along a small path, eyes and ears alert, quickly finding an isolated spot. Pretending to tie shoelaces,

he picked up a stone and with a pop, dislodged the surveillance camera fixed in the treetop and then stored the bedding in the Backpack.

Oracle sighed, lowered his voice, and asked, "Did you hear that?"

"Yes, I heard it," Li Cheng said. "Sultan is likely referring to the Sultan of Brunei, Hassanal Bolkiah. Brunei has only 400,000 people, enriched by exporting mass amounts of oil. Bolkiah's personal wealth was approximately 10 billion USD in 2020.

He was once accused of illegal detention by Miss USA 1997.

As for Prince, it could be the UK's Andrew, or Prince Pierre from the deposed German royal family, or a prince from some Gulf Sheikhdom.

As for the hedge fund founder, there are too many possibilities."

Oracle frowned. "Could these people be Svip?"

"vip maybe, svip is uncertain. Power can bring money, but money can only be used for power at the right time."

Li Cheng suggested, "I propose we first find the island's server center, locate the other five players using the surveillance cameras before proceeding."

The two quickly agreed on this and were about to leave the woods when they were stopped.

"Hey, you there, pick up that box and follow me."

A young white man in swim trunks called out to Bob the security guard, followed by four brawny bodyguards, clearly someone of significance.

"Me?"

Oracle hesitated for a moment; time was short, and she couldn't be bothered with these rich kids. But considering Bob's security uniform... she hesitated briefly and then went over to lift the plastic box.

Inside the box were all kinds of adult toys, whips, animal masks, handcuffs, candles, lubricants, and a nauseatingly strong scent of perfume.

The two players, fulfilling their security roles, silently followed the rich kid to the second floor of a row of villas.

Epstein had specially soundproofed the villa to please the society's elites; no one would hear even if someone screamed out loud inside a room.

The rich kid told his four bodyguards to stay outside the room; he didn't see security Bob as an equal but used him as a tool, "Leave the box and you can go."

"All right."

Oracle put down the box and glanced around. In the spacious second-floor bedroom, the lighting was ambiguous; a small boy was tied spread-eagle to a wooden horse, his mouth stuffed with a towel.

Seeing Bob, the boy desperately whimpered, while the rich kid took an animal bodysuit from the box and started putting it on.

Oracle had long been accustomed to the decadence of the upper class and had little sense of righteousness. She turned to leave. But Li Cheng stopped her.

Li Cheng, looking through Bob's navel, thought the boy looked familiar and tentatively asked, "Joker?"