The Devil was in a splendid mood.
Recently, he had been manipulating No. 8 everywhere, deriving a lot of pleasure from the front-line action.
Although things didn’t turn out as expected in the second monthly exam, it wasn’t too bad either.
The most interesting, of course, was the Magician who had torn off his veneer of composure.
No. 1 was highly anticipating the beast that would be unleashed, especially after the other proclaimed he was going to ‘destroy this instance’. The Devil’s interest reached its peak.
Such a delectable change in attitude, he was awfully tempted to take apart this beautifully wrapped gift box and see what delights lay inside.
No. 1 had been waiting for Zong Jiu long before he came to his office.
When the white-haired Magician pushed open the door, the Devil was sitting behind his desk. He set down the fountain pen in his hand, smiling merrily with his head propped on a hand.
“The teaching office just contacted me just now. I heard you took down all the surveillance in your classroom?”
His fingertips rolled the fountain pen, seemingly nonchalant as he put forth the question. His voice, however, faintly exposed his approval.
In the end, what took him aback was that it wasn’t just the white-haired young man who came in.
He’d brought along a whole crowd.
These trainees who were forced along stood at the door. The arrogance on their faces immediately dispersed at the sight of No. 1 in his office, replaced by abject terror.
These trainees were the critics, rebels, and former snitches from other classes, all considered volatile elements in the alliance.
When the class monitors of each class brought these people in, none came to heel, but after Zong Jiu brought them with him to the big boss, they all behaved like obedient quails.
“Hurry up, don’t waste time. Go in.”
Class 6’s monitor impatiently herded these people into the office, cautiously glancing at No. 1 inside with fervour and admiration until the door slammed itself before him with a bang.
After entering, these trainees didn’t dare to breathe too loudly; it was obvious they were even shaking in their boots.
Only the white-haired young man was not the least bit afraid, even bluntly ordering for them to be put under his thrall.
No. 1 arched his brows, but Zong Jiu pre-empted his words, saying coldly, “With all due respect, you were useless in the second monthly exam. It isn’t too much for me to use the NPC’s assistance reward on this, is it?”
The logic was sound, it was just that this request really tried one’s patience.
The Devil narrowed his dark golden eyes at him, and the corners of his mouth curled all the more dangerously.
His intimidating gaze swept over the few trainees cowering in a corner, his emotions unreadable from his tone.
“You’d have me control these ants?”
Pcvffv, Rb. 1’r qeqqfaffg jylilas kjr cbatlcu ab rmboo ja, yea atf qgbyifw kjr atja tf kjrc’a kliilcu ab qea gjcvbw agjrt ecvfg tlr mbcagbi.
Mbg fzjwqif, Vtfcu Te kjr erfv ab jqqgbjmt atf Zjulmljc yjmx atfc. Olc Xebzlcu, ilxfklrf, kjr erfv ab iegf lc Dijmx-Ebyfv Chjc. Ktbrf ktbw atf Gfnli mbcvfrmfcvfv ab wjclqeijaf kfgf flatfg rqglcuybjgvr bg tlr eialwjaf ajgufa, jcv jcsbcf erfv lc atf lcafglw kfgf wfgfis qjkcr ab yf vlrmjgvfv joafg gfjmtlcu tlr fcvr.
Believing him to be enraged, the legs of a few trainees weakened, almost collapsing to their knees.
On the contrary, as if the matter had nothing to do with him, Zong Jiu even tagged a rhetorical question behind an indifferent nod.
“Are you going to renege on your word?”
The black-haired Devil turned his uncomfortable scrutiny upon Zong Jiu for a meaningfully long time.
The next second, the scarlet tapestry curtains behind rippled in the windless office.
The flickering light in the already dim room became inexplicably chilling.
The man seated behind the office desk lazily lifted his hand.
A chilly wind curled from the ground, and the temperature in the entire room plunged.
Around those white gloves, millions of invisible threads seemed to materialize out of the void, each glinting sharply with a cold, metallic light.
Unfortunately, only two people in this office could see them.
The dim light of dusk penetrated the raised curtains, shrouding the brown wood floor of the office and casting overlapping dark shadows, instilling an inexplicable, oozing fear.
The trainees’ eyes widened, their faces contorted in horror. Before they could speak, their voices caught in their throats for eternity. Their heads bowed, and each stood in silence.
After doing this, the man rose to his feet, a smile in his eyes. “Enough?”
This was the first time Zong Jiu saw the Devil use his puppeteer ability before him.
He put forth this as his request, intentionally bringing these people here when in truth he was also brazenly testing the other. After all, not long ago, No. 1 had also wheedled from him confirmation that he didn’t belong to this world. Now, Zong Jiu was simply returning the favour.
Yet after watching it in its entirety, it was impossible not to have apprehensions.
Such unfathomable technique, no matter where it was used, would evoke deep-seated fear from one’s heart.
What was most terrifying was that not only was Zong Jiu testing, but he’d deliberately brought over the more difficult trainees in the year, nearly ten in total, in order to see the extent of the Devil’s puppeteer ability. How many he could control in one shot, and what more was needed to achieve complete manipulation other than physical contact and bloodshed.
But it was a misjudgement.
No. 1 hadn’t even touched a single person. With a mere flick of his fingers, he turned all trainees present into his puppets.
The man however did reveal his ability had its conditions. Zong Jiu didn’t think the Devil would have any reason to lie about this.
So the white-haired young man raised his brows. “That’s one thing, but are you sure they’re under your control? Doesn’t your ability require physical contact to activate?”
The Devil smiled. “Under ordinary circumstances, yes, that’s right. But this instance… often offers some surprising gains.”
Seeing that Zong Jiu still wanted to speak, the man suddenly stepped forward, teasingly bowing forward at his waist, and pressed a finger to his lips.
“Hush, you have already claimed your reward.”
Even the soft fabric was unable to impede the chill from the body it covered, causing those lips to take on an increasingly cool shade of colour.
Zong Jiu inclined his head marginally and met his gaze, unwilling to back down. The flame that had been kindled not long ago still blazed in the depths of his eyes.
Looking down at him, the Devil could feel every cell that coursed through his blood screaming to wreck him.
But he calmed down, like an active volcano suppressing its surging magma, because he knew that food should be cooked to the perfect temperature before its taste could be enjoyed to the fullest. The index finger of his glove, however, crooked minutely, brushing the corners of the young man’s attractive lips.
The Devil’s voice was low and deep, doused in the tantalising huskiness of his restraint.
“There would be no fun in solving riddles if I told you everything, little magician.”
“Now, let me see how you shall destroy this instance.”
“Don’t forget, you still owe me one.”
—
Zong Jiu’s face clouded over after he left the office.
The test this time could only be described as breaking even.
He hadn’t managed to obtain more information about No. 1’s ability but had achieved his own goal, which was minimally to turn the disobedient people, obedient.
Though whether ‘obedience’ under No. 1’s manipulations was truly reliable was still up in the air.
As long as they didn’t stir up trouble, at least. Even if these people didn’t cooperate with his instructions, Zong Jiu couldn’t ask for more.
He returned to the classroom.
There was no next step after that.
The other two class monitors lacked confidence in his plan and didn’t intend to put all their eggs into one basket. Alongside the plan, they told their class to work hard in the remaining thirty days, attempting to gather enough to reach a thousand, making preparations on both fronts.
Only Class 9 sang a completely different tune.
Zong Jiu said they didn’t have to study in the remaining time, and thereafter Class 9’s trainees really didn’t study. Every day they either held rap sessions or tore scrap paper to play cards together, and went to bed at ten every night. Ten days later, their dark eye circles faded away, they were in high spirits, and they lived it up.
In the first weekly quiz, their class average slid instead of rising, dropping from over 800 back to 750, shocking the entire year and the live broadcast room.
[No way… does Class 9 trust the Magician so much? Their behaviour now is like they’ve abandoned hope altogether.]
[I’m worried too. Watching them eat and play every day whilst the other classes are anxiously drilling questions, I’m starting to wonder if I’ve walked into the wrong set.]
[But the issue is that Class 9 doesn’t have any contingency plan prepared. Leaving aside the difficulty of destroying an instance, they aren’t even preparing an escape route. My palms are sweating for them.]
[Do they have grounds for their confidence? Anyway, the instance will end in over a week or so. By that time it’ll be obvious whether Class 9 can make it through, no point worrying now.]
Indeed, no matter what conjectures outsiders cast upon them, Class 9 remained unmoved, doing whatever they wanted.
Finally, just after the second weekly quiz, a new clue was delivered to Zong Jiu’s doorstep.
A month ago, Tsuchimikado lost contact with his paper shikigami at the iron door near the Corpse Pit.
The only information that could be gleaned was the last visual sent over, in which a faceless teacher seemed to catch sight of this piece of paper in the corner and grabbed a broom to sweep it aside.
At the same time, the area was so overwhelmed with resentment that it greatly reduced the spiritual energy attached to the paper shikigami.
As a result, everyone believed the paper shikigami died a valiant death. However, a few nights ago, Tsuchimikado had a dream.
There was an intriguing connection between a Yin-Yang Master and their shikigami, especially those nourished by their spiritual power. It was very possible for them to pass on any last images and clues to their owners in the form of dreams before their spiritual energy ran low or bottomed out completely.
After the desperate hunt for clues, it was stumbled upon by chance. This clue happened to come from the iron door of unknown purpose near the Corpse Pit that faceless people went in and out of. It was likely the paper shikigami happened to be swept inside, which gained them this unexpected find.
The shikigami sent back an image of stacks of snow-white booklets, even a scene of faceless people gathered at a round table to set questions.
It turned out to be First High School’s storage room for exam papers.
The Devil was in a splendid mood.
Recently, he had been manipulating No. 8 everywhere, deriving a lot of pleasure from the front-line action.
Although things didn’t turn out as expected in the second monthly exam, it wasn’t too bad either.
The most interesting, of course, was the Magician who had torn off his veneer of composure.
No. 1 was highly anticipating the beast that would be unleashed, especially after the other proclaimed he was going to ‘destroy this instance’. The Devil’s interest reached its peak.
Such a delectable change in attitude, he was awfully tempted to take apart this beautifully wrapped gift box and see what delights lay inside.
No. 1 had been waiting for Zong Jiu long before he came to his office.
When the white-haired Magician pushed open the door, the Devil was sitting behind his desk. He set down the fountain pen in his hand, smiling merrily with his head propped on a hand.
“The teaching office just contacted me just now. I heard you took down all the surveillance in your classroom?”
His fingertips rolled the fountain pen, seemingly nonchalant as he put forth the question. His voice, however, faintly exposed his approval.
In the end, what took him aback was that it wasn’t just the white-haired young man who came in.
He’d brought along a whole crowd.
These trainees who were forced along stood at the door. The arrogance on their faces immediately dispersed at the sight of No. 1 in his office, replaced by abject terror.
These trainees were the critics, rebels, and former snitches from other classes, all considered volatile elements in the alliance.
When the class monitors of each class brought these people in, none came to heel, but after Zong Jiu brought them with him to the big boss, they all behaved like obedient quails.
“Hurry up, don’t waste time. Go in.”
Class 6’s monitor impatiently herded these people into the office, cautiously glancing at No. 1 inside with fervour and admiration until the door slammed itself before him with a bang.
After entering, these trainees didn’t dare to breathe too loudly; it was obvious they were even shaking in their boots.
Only the white-haired young man was not the least bit afraid, even bluntly ordering for them to be put under his thrall.
No. 1 arched his brows, but Zong Jiu pre-empted his words, saying coldly, “With all due respect, you were useless in the second monthly exam. It isn’t too much for me to use the NPC’s assistance reward on this, is it?”
The logic was sound, it was just that this request really tried one’s patience.
The Devil narrowed his dark golden eyes at him, and the corners of his mouth curled all the more dangerously.
His intimidating gaze swept over the few trainees cowering in a corner, his emotions unreadable from his tone.
“You’d have me control these ants?”
Pcvffv, Rb. 1’r qeqqfaffg jylilas kjr cbatlcu ab rmboo ja, yea atf qgbyifw kjr atja tf kjrc’a kliilcu ab qea gjcvbw agjrt ecvfg tlr mbcagbi.
Mbg fzjwqif, Vtfcu Te kjr erfv ab jqqgbjmt atf Zjulmljc yjmx atfc. Olc Xebzlcu, ilxfklrf, kjr erfv ab iegf lc Dijmx-Ebyfv Chjc. Ktbrf ktbw atf Gfnli mbcvfrmfcvfv ab wjclqeijaf kfgf flatfg rqglcuybjgvr bg tlr eialwjaf ajgufa, jcv jcsbcf erfv lc atf lcafglw kfgf wfgfis qjkcr ab yf vlrmjgvfv joafg gfjmtlcu tlr fcvr.
Believing him to be enraged, the legs of a few trainees weakened, almost collapsing to their knees.
On the contrary, as if the matter had nothing to do with him, Zong Jiu even tagged a rhetorical question behind an indifferent nod.
“Are you going to renege on your word?”
The black-haired Devil turned his uncomfortable scrutiny upon Zong Jiu for a meaningfully long time.
The next second, the scarlet tapestry curtains behind rippled in the windless office.
The flickering light in the already dim room became inexplicably chilling.
The man seated behind the office desk lazily lifted his hand.
A chilly wind curled from the ground, and the temperature in the entire room plunged.
Around those white gloves, millions of invisible threads seemed to materialize out of the void, each glinting sharply with a cold, metallic light.
Unfortunately, only two people in this office could see them.
The dim light of dusk penetrated the raised curtains, shrouding the brown wood floor of the office and casting overlapping dark shadows, instilling an inexplicable, oozing fear.
The trainees’ eyes widened, their faces contorted in horror. Before they could speak, their voices caught in their throats for eternity. Their heads bowed, and each stood in silence.
After doing this, the man rose to his feet, a smile in his eyes. “Enough?”
This was the first time Zong Jiu saw the Devil use his puppeteer ability before him.
He put forth this as his request, intentionally bringing these people here when in truth he was also brazenly testing the other. After all, not long ago, No. 1 had also wheedled from him confirmation that he didn’t belong to this world. Now, Zong Jiu was simply returning the favour.
Yet after watching it in its entirety, it was impossible not to have apprehensions.
Such unfathomable technique, no matter where it was used, would evoke deep-seated fear from one’s heart.
What was most terrifying was that not only was Zong Jiu testing, but he’d deliberately brought over the more difficult trainees in the year, nearly ten in total, in order to see the extent of the Devil’s puppeteer ability. How many he could control in one shot, and what more was needed to achieve complete manipulation other than physical contact and bloodshed.
But it was a misjudgement.
No. 1 hadn’t even touched a single person. With a mere flick of his fingers, he turned all trainees present into his puppets.
The man however did reveal his ability had its conditions. Zong Jiu didn’t think the Devil would have any reason to lie about this.
So the white-haired young man raised his brows. “That’s one thing, but are you sure they’re under your control? Doesn’t your ability require physical contact to activate?”
The Devil smiled. “Under ordinary circumstances, yes, that’s right. But this instance… often offers some surprising gains.”
Seeing that Zong Jiu still wanted to speak, the man suddenly stepped forward, teasingly bowing forward at his waist, and pressed a finger to his lips.
“Hush, you have already claimed your reward.”
Even the soft fabric was unable to impede the chill from the body it covered, causing those lips to take on an increasingly cool shade of colour.
Zong Jiu inclined his head marginally and met his gaze, unwilling to back down. The flame that had been kindled not long ago still blazed in the depths of his eyes.
Looking down at him, the Devil could feel every cell that coursed through his blood screaming to wreck him.
But he calmed down, like an active volcano suppressing its surging magma, because he knew that food should be cooked to the perfect temperature before its taste could be enjoyed to the fullest. The index finger of his glove, however, crooked minutely, brushing the corners of the young man’s attractive lips.
The Devil’s voice was low and deep, doused in the tantalising huskiness of his restraint.
“There would be no fun in solving riddles if I told you everything, little magician.”
“Now, let me see how you shall destroy this instance.”
“Don’t forget, you still owe me one.”
—
Zong Jiu’s face clouded over after he left the office.
The test this time could only be described as breaking even.
He hadn’t managed to obtain more information about No. 1’s ability but had achieved his own goal, which was minimally to turn the disobedient people, obedient.
Though whether ‘obedience’ under No. 1’s manipulations was truly reliable was still up in the air.
As long as they didn’t stir up trouble, at least. Even if these people didn’t cooperate with his instructions, Zong Jiu couldn’t ask for more.
He returned to the classroom.
There was no next step after that.
The other two class monitors lacked confidence in his plan and didn’t intend to put all their eggs into one basket. Alongside the plan, they told their class to work hard in the remaining thirty days, attempting to gather enough to reach a thousand, making preparations on both fronts.
Only Class 9 sang a completely different tune.
Zong Jiu said they didn’t have to study in the remaining time, and thereafter Class 9’s trainees really didn’t study. Every day they either held rap sessions or tore scrap paper to play cards together, and went to bed at ten every night. Ten days later, their dark eye circles faded away, they were in high spirits, and they lived it up.
In the first weekly quiz, their class average slid instead of rising, dropping from over 800 back to 750, shocking the entire year and the live broadcast room.
[No way… does Class 9 trust the Magician so much? Their behaviour now is like they’ve abandoned hope altogether.]
[I’m worried too. Watching them eat and play every day whilst the other classes are anxiously drilling questions, I’m starting to wonder if I’ve walked into the wrong set.]
[But the issue is that Class 9 doesn’t have any contingency plan prepared. Leaving aside the difficulty of destroying an instance, they aren’t even preparing an escape route. My palms are sweating for them.]
[Do they have grounds for their confidence? Anyway, the instance will end in over a week or so. By that time it’ll be obvious whether Class 9 can make it through, no point worrying now.]
Indeed, no matter what conjectures outsiders cast upon them, Class 9 remained unmoved, doing whatever they wanted.
Finally, just after the second weekly quiz, a new clue was delivered to Zong Jiu’s doorstep.
A month ago, Tsuchimikado lost contact with his paper shikigami at the iron door near the Corpse Pit.
The only information that could be gleaned was the last visual sent over, in which a faceless teacher seemed to catch sight of this piece of paper in the corner and grabbed a broom to sweep it aside.
At the same time, the area was so overwhelmed with resentment that it greatly reduced the spiritual energy attached to the paper shikigami.
As a result, everyone believed the paper shikigami died a valiant death. However, a few nights ago, Tsuchimikado had a dream.
There was an intriguing connection between a Yin-Yang Master and their shikigami, especially those nourished by their spiritual power. It was very possible for them to pass on any last images and clues to their owners in the form of dreams before their spiritual energy ran low or bottomed out completely.
After the desperate hunt for clues, it was stumbled upon by chance. This clue happened to come from the iron door of unknown purpose near the Corpse Pit that faceless people went in and out of. It was likely the paper shikigami happened to be swept inside, which gained them this unexpected find.
The shikigami sent back an image of stacks of snow-white booklets, even a scene of faceless people gathered at a round table to set questions.
It turned out to be First High School’s storage room for exam papers.
