Cheonhwageom's gaze swept over the crowd.

Two, four, six, eight…

Including those who were battered, broken, or otherwise not in perfect shape after falling victim to traps, the total number was forty-two.

Cheonhwageom glanced back at the number on the stone door: twenty-one.

Forty-two, twenty-one. Exactly half.

Was this some sort of cutting-edge mystical internal energy mechanism in Zhongyuan, able to sense the number of people and spit out half of them?

She tilted her head in confusion. Sure, counting the number of people made sense, but what about the writing on the stone door? With five tunnels, the maximum …