No. 1’s appearance sent the classroom into sudden silence.
On the other hand, the screams in the bullet chat were even louder now.
[Feeling real envy for the students in Class 9. I also want a homeroom teacher like this.]
[Ah, this… Blind worship can only take you so far. Or are you telling me you also want to enter this instance from hell?]
AD
[Dying of laughter. Bro, you’re super blunt.]
[C’mon, let’s be real. Only bigshots can qualify to enter the Thriller Trainee. Us noobs are lucky to even be able to tune into the live broadcast between horror instances. Stop dreaming.]
At first, Zong Jiu was in the midst of giving them a dressing down to establish his authority as the class monitor here.
Reasonably speaking, if it wasn’t for the sinister team-mode in this instance, Zong Jiu wouldn’t have bothered with these trifles. Back in the Mental Asylum, he dared to be a lone wolf even as a newcomer. In Famine Mountain Village, he was handed the mole card and could only infiltrate into the enemy camp. He hadn’t been intimidated by anything yet; he had always been stubborn and intractable.
But it was different now. If any trainee in the class dropped the ball, the entire class would be the unlucky ones.
Zong Jiu didn’t wish to be dragged down at all. He didn’t know a single B-rank student in the class, and the knowledge that these people controlled his life and death was highly unpleasant. If there really were people in their class who dragged their feet, they’d be implicated by association. Even without the NPCs having to do anything, Zong Jiu would drop dead from rage first.
In short, for his own sake, Zong Jiu had to put on a show of strength, stably winning over those in his class, to prevent anyone from goofing up the next exam.
In the end, he was only midway through his show when the homeroom teacher arrived. The feeling when he turned his head back was hard to put to words—it was reminiscent of the kind of dread students got when playing on their phones only to find the homeroom teacher standing behind them.
Zong Jiu silently took a step forward, throwing off the hand on his shoulder.
AD
He noticed that although the other was dressed in a suit and his hands were once again covered in those white gloves, the obstruction from the layers of thick fabric were unable to dispel the chill emanating from the other’s body.
Recalling the interlacing scars that he saw marring No. 1’s hands in the trainee dormitories, Zong Jiu was pensive.
The Devil didn’t seem to take offence to his cold treatment.
He shrugged, going straight for the podium. “Prepare for class.”
Would anyone dare disobey an order laid down by No. 1?
Ninety-nine trainees looked shifty-eyed at each other, immediately returning to their seats.
No one dared to interject.
They could sense a sliver of wrongness from the strange interactions between those two.
Zong Jiu was about to pick a seat in the last row of the classroom, but the moment he took the first step towards the back, a humourless laugh came from behind him.
“The class monitor should set a good example and sit in the first row of the class.”
And so, the white-haired young man turned heel to face the Devil instead, calmly pulling out a chair from the first row.
So be it, who’s afraid of him!
Refusing to cower, Zong Jiu glared back at the other.
From the Devil’s point of view, the pale pink eyes were as wide and fierce as a cat whose tail had been trodden on.
Vffwlcuis qifjrfv, j mtemxif gewyifv ogbw atf wjc’r atgbja.
Ca atf rluta bo atlr rmfcf, ecvlruelrfv rtbmx oijrtfv lc atf fsfr bo atf batfg agjlcffr.
Snfc atf yeiifa mtja kjr oibbvlcu klat vlrmerrlbc.
[Guys, do you feel that No. 1’s attitude towards the Magician is a bit weird…]
[I also noticed it. It felt a bit like he was targeting him on purpose? Of course, just now as well.]
[Friend upstairs, you’re wrong. Though there’s that feeling of targeting, why would this give off weird vibes? It isn’t the antagonism of enemies fighting to each other’s deaths and back but… I can’t really describe it. Anyway, it’s mutual. And if I really had to say, there’s this subtle… erm.]
[I get ya. I always feel like there’s a lot of… tension between them, but it’s as though no one else can get in between them.]
[Right, exactly that. But think about it, the Devil had expressed his admiration for the Magician in front of everyone, then got it rubbed in his face when the Magician later accepted the Night Clan’s invitation, and so…?]
[Stop with your wild guesses. How many times must I say it; don’t try to fathom the thoughts of the Devil. In my opinion, he probably just finds the Magician more interesting and fun.]
Cqjga ogbw yflcu Jijrr 9’r tbwfgbbw afjmtfg, Rb. 1 kjr jirb atf mbtbga’r Dlbibus afjmtfg.
Kfjmtlcu wjafgljir tjv sfa ab yf lrrefv veglcu atf olgra qfglbv; atf Gfnli vlv cba rajga afjmtlcu atf rsiijyer flatfg.
After everyone was seated, finally one of his worshippers gathered the guts to speak up, “Your Eminence…”
A slender piece of chalk spun on the pristine white gloves, leaving an invisible ring of powder.
Faint displeasure surfaced in the man’s expression. “Address me as you would a teacher.”
That worshipper looked on the verge of falling to his knees right there, his body shaking like a sieve.
“Mr. N-Nan.”
At this, the Devil nodded indifferently. “In the next hundred and twenty days, I do not wish to hear any other address from your mouths except for how you would a teacher.”
“This is an instance in the Thriller Trainee, not the infinite loop, also not the trainee dormitories. Here, I’m an NPC and your homeroom teacher. But this doesn’t mean that you are superior to the other classes and can win without a fight.”
His words were harsh and ruthless.
Not only did he make his stance clear, but he’d also explained it aplenty.
It dawned on the trainees.
It turned out that No. 1 had a different authority level from them. Ordinary trainees needed to enter instances, whereas No. 1 could roleplay as an NPC.
This sufficed to explain why nobody—trainees and bullet chat alike—saw any traces of No. 1 even from the first round.
Besides, trainees also mentally visualised the conditions for roleplaying as an NPC.
There were three types of roleplaying modes. The lowest tier of roleplaying was similar to the one in Famine Mountain Village, wherein trainees were given normal or mole identity cards and they simply had to roughly take on those identities.
The middle-tier roleplaying mode, on the other hand, would define characterisations. Trainees would have to act in accordance with the personalities dictated on the identity cards.
The highest-tier roleplaying mode was the hardest. Not only did it require evading the dangers of the instance, but the trainee would also have to mesh all the information given in the identity card to enter the perfect roleplay. If any NPCs perceived anything amiss, it would very likely affect the progression of the instance.
From what No. 1 said, everyone implicitly understood that he had taken on an identity card to roleplay as an NPC.
NPC had their own restrictions, just like how trainees also had their restrictions. Since it was a roleplay, and since they were in an instance, No. 1 naturally couldn’t show any favouritism.
Gloom hung over the classroom.
Even if No. 1 was their homeroom teacher, they couldn’t gain any direct benefits out of it.
Discomposure and foreboding weighed heavily in everyone’s hearts.
It was only the first monthly exam yet an entire class was set to be eliminated. What about the midterm exam? Or the second monthly exam? Or the final exam? In the end, how many B-ranks would be able to remain on the school’s quadrangle, successfully passing this collective instance?
The Devil said apathetically, “The upcoming monthly exam is in thirty days. I hope that none of you will let me down.”
This simple sentence directly reignited the previously despondent class.
The spirits of the B-ranks were swept up, and they responded “Yes!” in unison, their voices so loud the roof of the classroom was almost blown off.
Just as though their life’s mission was not to disappoint this man.
No. 1 was not at all surprised by this fervour. He was even quite disinterested by it.
But while this complete lack of interest was hard for others to see, it was plain as day in Zong Jiu’s eyes.
The white-haired young man sitting in the first row imperceptibly curled his lips in contempt.
How exaggerated. He wondered what magic potion the Devil had irrigated their minds with for them to adore him so, to desperately to kiss his black leather shoes and scream ‘My Lord’ at the top of their lungs.
In short, they need to get their eyes checked.
“Index 1.”
While Zong Jiu was deep in rumination, a low voice suddenly rang out from the podium. “First in class, analyse the biology section for this placement exam.”
Zong Jiu, who didn’t even get twenty-five marks in Biology, “…”
There were so many terms and the schoolbooks hadn’t even been handed out for them to study yet; could anyone really go through it step by step?
Taking his booklet, Zong Jiu loathed to get up.
If eyes could kill, he felt that the Devil would have been incinerated and sent to the crematorium upwards of a thousand times by now.
During this period, No. 1 asked a total of three questions, and Zong Jiu answered three times in total.
He was lucky to get through the first two, but he was punished to stand in class due to answering the third one wrongly.
This time, even if they were blind, other trainees could tell that the Devil was basically picking on the Magician.
[Oh snap! Tragic, the Magician’s too tragic.]
[Finally, I can now confirm that, whether it is admiration or irritation, it’s the Magician’s misfortune to be the sole recipient of the Devil’s special attention.]
[Could the Magician have accepted the Night Clan’s invitation and is about to transform into a half-vamp? Man, if so, he might really have pissed No. 1 off.]
[The Devil is watching you. Magician, you must be careful…]
When the first period finally ended, the whole class rose and bowed, shouting, “Goodbye, Mr. Nan.”
Only Zong Jiu, contrary to everyone else, sat back down with composure, coldly refusing to get up as though in wait for just one last trump before he won big.
The Devil didn’t take it up with him either. Instead, he flippantly picked up the unopened book and slowly came down from the podium.
Everyone’s gaze chased after the man’s movements—only to see him walk up to the white-haired young man’s desk and knock on the table surface.
Zong Jiu didn’t deign to lift his head. He rested his eyes.
He couldn’t do anything about the Devil. Yet, for some reason unknown to him, the Devil drew back his killing intent after the Famine Mountain Village instance.
After abandoning their initial ‘between the two of us, one must die’ feud, the two of them surprisingly toned it down to supremely schoolboy ‘taking turns to have a go at each other’ antics. Ultimately, both of them were innately vindictive and vengeful people.
Amidst the sharp inhales at his blatant disobedience, No. 1 placed the biology lesson plan on the table in front of him.
The Devil’s voice was teasing, brimming with suggestive overtones.
“After the evening self-study… don’t forget to come to my office.”
It wasn’t until after the dark-haired man’s back disappeared behind the classroom door that gasps erupted from the trainees present.
They stared at Zong Jiu in disbelief. “You just revolted against that guy!”
“It was even an open rebellion! Oh my god!”
Summing up this cacophony of voices, it was—
How dare you! Don’t you know who that is! He’s the man who has been at the peak of the infinite loop for god knows how many years!
The exact same style as ‘Do you know what you rejected? What you just rejected is God’s love!”
Zong Jiu sincerely felt that when it came to the Devil, while the lower-ranking trainees were still tolerable, these high-ranking trainees conversely seemed to have dropped in IQ, like green shoots after the rain, weirdos popping up one after another.
“Oh,” the white-haired young man uttered impassively. “We’re in an instance now. The Devil is roleplaying as a teacher, and I’m a student. Trainees are not allowed to act out against each other—or put in perspective—similar to how killing is forbidden in the trainee dormitories, this rule holds until the end of the competition.”
“Other than getting our class wiped out in the next exam, can he get me killed?”
“With that being the case, since he can’t kill me, why should I be afraid of him?”
Everyone else, “…”
Unexpectedly, his words did seem to make a lot of sense—no one was able to refute him.
No. 1’s appearance sent the classroom into sudden silence.
On the other hand, the screams in the bullet chat were even louder now.
[Feeling real envy for the students in Class 9. I also want a homeroom teacher like this.]
[Ah, this… Blind worship can only take you so far. Or are you telling me you also want to enter this instance from hell?]
AD
[Dying of laughter. Bro, you’re super blunt.]
[C’mon, let’s be real. Only bigshots can qualify to enter the Thriller Trainee. Us noobs are lucky to even be able to tune into the live broadcast between horror instances. Stop dreaming.]
At first, Zong Jiu was in the midst of giving them a dressing down to establish his authority as the class monitor here.
Reasonably speaking, if it wasn’t for the sinister team-mode in this instance, Zong Jiu wouldn’t have bothered with these trifles. Back in the Mental Asylum, he dared to be a lone wolf even as a newcomer. In Famine Mountain Village, he was handed the mole card and could only infiltrate into the enemy camp. He hadn’t been intimidated by anything yet; he had always been stubborn and intractable.
But it was different now. If any trainee in the class dropped the ball, the entire class would be the unlucky ones.
Zong Jiu didn’t wish to be dragged down at all. He didn’t know a single B-rank student in the class, and the knowledge that these people controlled his life and death was highly unpleasant. If there really were people in their class who dragged their feet, they’d be implicated by association. Even without the NPCs having to do anything, Zong Jiu would drop dead from rage first.
In short, for his own sake, Zong Jiu had to put on a show of strength, stably winning over those in his class, to prevent anyone from goofing up the next exam.
In the end, he was only midway through his show when the homeroom teacher arrived. The feeling when he turned his head back was hard to put to words—it was reminiscent of the kind of dread students got when playing on their phones only to find the homeroom teacher standing behind them.
Zong Jiu silently took a step forward, throwing off the hand on his shoulder.
AD
He noticed that although the other was dressed in a suit and his hands were once again covered in those white gloves, the obstruction from the layers of thick fabric were unable to dispel the chill emanating from the other’s body.
Recalling the interlacing scars that he saw marring No. 1’s hands in the trainee dormitories, Zong Jiu was pensive.
The Devil didn’t seem to take offence to his cold treatment.
He shrugged, going straight for the podium. “Prepare for class.”
Would anyone dare disobey an order laid down by No. 1?
Ninety-nine trainees looked shifty-eyed at each other, immediately returning to their seats.
No one dared to interject.
They could sense a sliver of wrongness from the strange interactions between those two.
Zong Jiu was about to pick a seat in the last row of the classroom, but the moment he took the first step towards the back, a humourless laugh came from behind him.
“The class monitor should set a good example and sit in the first row of the class.”
And so, the white-haired young man turned heel to face the Devil instead, calmly pulling out a chair from the first row.
So be it, who’s afraid of him!
Refusing to cower, Zong Jiu glared back at the other.
From the Devil’s point of view, the pale pink eyes were as wide and fierce as a cat whose tail had been trodden on.
Vffwlcuis qifjrfv, j mtemxif gewyifv ogbw atf wjc’r atgbja.
Ca atf rluta bo atlr rmfcf, ecvlruelrfv rtbmx oijrtfv lc atf fsfr bo atf batfg agjlcffr.
Snfc atf yeiifa mtja kjr oibbvlcu klat vlrmerrlbc.
[Guys, do you feel that No. 1’s attitude towards the Magician is a bit weird…]
[I also noticed it. It felt a bit like he was targeting him on purpose? Of course, just now as well.]
[Friend upstairs, you’re wrong. Though there’s that feeling of targeting, why would this give off weird vibes? It isn’t the antagonism of enemies fighting to each other’s deaths and back but… I can’t really describe it. Anyway, it’s mutual. And if I really had to say, there’s this subtle… erm.]
[I get ya. I always feel like there’s a lot of… tension between them, but it’s as though no one else can get in between them.]
[Right, exactly that. But think about it, the Devil had expressed his admiration for the Magician in front of everyone, then got it rubbed in his face when the Magician later accepted the Night Clan’s invitation, and so…?]
[Stop with your wild guesses. How many times must I say it; don’t try to fathom the thoughts of the Devil. In my opinion, he probably just finds the Magician more interesting and fun.]
Cqjga ogbw yflcu Jijrr 9’r tbwfgbbw afjmtfg, Rb. 1 kjr jirb atf mbtbga’r Dlbibus afjmtfg.
Kfjmtlcu wjafgljir tjv sfa ab yf lrrefv veglcu atf olgra qfglbv; atf Gfnli vlv cba rajga afjmtlcu atf rsiijyer flatfg.
After everyone was seated, finally one of his worshippers gathered the guts to speak up, “Your Eminence…”
A slender piece of chalk spun on the pristine white gloves, leaving an invisible ring of powder.
Faint displeasure surfaced in the man’s expression. “Address me as you would a teacher.”
That worshipper looked on the verge of falling to his knees right there, his body shaking like a sieve.
“Mr. N-Nan.”
At this, the Devil nodded indifferently. “In the next hundred and twenty days, I do not wish to hear any other address from your mouths except for how you would a teacher.”
“This is an instance in the Thriller Trainee, not the infinite loop, also not the trainee dormitories. Here, I’m an NPC and your homeroom teacher. But this doesn’t mean that you are superior to the other classes and can win without a fight.”
His words were harsh and ruthless.
Not only did he make his stance clear, but he’d also explained it aplenty.
It dawned on the trainees.
It turned out that No. 1 had a different authority level from them. Ordinary trainees needed to enter instances, whereas No. 1 could roleplay as an NPC.
This sufficed to explain why nobody—trainees and bullet chat alike—saw any traces of No. 1 even from the first round.
Besides, trainees also mentally visualised the conditions for roleplaying as an NPC.
There were three types of roleplaying modes. The lowest tier of roleplaying was similar to the one in Famine Mountain Village, wherein trainees were given normal or mole identity cards and they simply had to roughly take on those identities.
The middle-tier roleplaying mode, on the other hand, would define characterisations. Trainees would have to act in accordance with the personalities dictated on the identity cards.
The highest-tier roleplaying mode was the hardest. Not only did it require evading the dangers of the instance, but the trainee would also have to mesh all the information given in the identity card to enter the perfect roleplay. If any NPCs perceived anything amiss, it would very likely affect the progression of the instance.
From what No. 1 said, everyone implicitly understood that he had taken on an identity card to roleplay as an NPC.
NPC had their own restrictions, just like how trainees also had their restrictions. Since it was a roleplay, and since they were in an instance, No. 1 naturally couldn’t show any favouritism.
Gloom hung over the classroom.
Even if No. 1 was their homeroom teacher, they couldn’t gain any direct benefits out of it.
Discomposure and foreboding weighed heavily in everyone’s hearts.
It was only the first monthly exam yet an entire class was set to be eliminated. What about the midterm exam? Or the second monthly exam? Or the final exam? In the end, how many B-ranks would be able to remain on the school’s quadrangle, successfully passing this collective instance?
The Devil said apathetically, “The upcoming monthly exam is in thirty days. I hope that none of you will let me down.”
This simple sentence directly reignited the previously despondent class.
The spirits of the B-ranks were swept up, and they responded “Yes!” in unison, their voices so loud the roof of the classroom was almost blown off.
Just as though their life’s mission was not to disappoint this man.
No. 1 was not at all surprised by this fervour. He was even quite disinterested by it.
But while this complete lack of interest was hard for others to see, it was plain as day in Zong Jiu’s eyes.
The white-haired young man sitting in the first row imperceptibly curled his lips in contempt.
How exaggerated. He wondered what magic potion the Devil had irrigated their minds with for them to adore him so, to desperately to kiss his black leather shoes and scream ‘My Lord’ at the top of their lungs.
In short, they need to get their eyes checked.
“Index 1.”
While Zong Jiu was deep in rumination, a low voice suddenly rang out from the podium. “First in class, analyse the biology section for this placement exam.”
Zong Jiu, who didn’t even get twenty-five marks in Biology, “…”
There were so many terms and the schoolbooks hadn’t even been handed out for them to study yet; could anyone really go through it step by step?
Taking his booklet, Zong Jiu loathed to get up.
If eyes could kill, he felt that the Devil would have been incinerated and sent to the crematorium upwards of a thousand times by now.
During this period, No. 1 asked a total of three questions, and Zong Jiu answered three times in total.
He was lucky to get through the first two, but he was punished to stand in class due to answering the third one wrongly.
This time, even if they were blind, other trainees could tell that the Devil was basically picking on the Magician.
[Oh snap! Tragic, the Magician’s too tragic.]
[Finally, I can now confirm that, whether it is admiration or irritation, it’s the Magician’s misfortune to be the sole recipient of the Devil’s special attention.]
[Could the Magician have accepted the Night Clan’s invitation and is about to transform into a half-vamp? Man, if so, he might really have pissed No. 1 off.]
[The Devil is watching you. Magician, you must be careful…]
When the first period finally ended, the whole class rose and bowed, shouting, “Goodbye, Mr. Nan.”
Only Zong Jiu, contrary to everyone else, sat back down with composure, coldly refusing to get up as though in wait for just one last trump before he won big.
The Devil didn’t take it up with him either. Instead, he flippantly picked up the unopened book and slowly came down from the podium.
Everyone’s gaze chased after the man’s movements—only to see him walk up to the white-haired young man’s desk and knock on the table surface.
Zong Jiu didn’t deign to lift his head. He rested his eyes.
He couldn’t do anything about the Devil. Yet, for some reason unknown to him, the Devil drew back his killing intent after the Famine Mountain Village instance.
After abandoning their initial ‘between the two of us, one must die’ feud, the two of them surprisingly toned it down to supremely schoolboy ‘taking turns to have a go at each other’ antics. Ultimately, both of them were innately vindictive and vengeful people.
Amidst the sharp inhales at his blatant disobedience, No. 1 placed the biology lesson plan on the table in front of him.
The Devil’s voice was teasing, brimming with suggestive overtones.
“After the evening self-study… don’t forget to come to my office.”
It wasn’t until after the dark-haired man’s back disappeared behind the classroom door that gasps erupted from the trainees present.
They stared at Zong Jiu in disbelief. “You just revolted against that guy!”
“It was even an open rebellion! Oh my god!”
Summing up this cacophony of voices, it was—
How dare you! Don’t you know who that is! He’s the man who has been at the peak of the infinite loop for god knows how many years!
The exact same style as ‘Do you know what you rejected? What you just rejected is God’s love!”
Zong Jiu sincerely felt that when it came to the Devil, while the lower-ranking trainees were still tolerable, these high-ranking trainees conversely seemed to have dropped in IQ, like green shoots after the rain, weirdos popping up one after another.
“Oh,” the white-haired young man uttered impassively. “We’re in an instance now. The Devil is roleplaying as a teacher, and I’m a student. Trainees are not allowed to act out against each other—or put in perspective—similar to how killing is forbidden in the trainee dormitories, this rule holds until the end of the competition.”
“Other than getting our class wiped out in the next exam, can he get me killed?”
“With that being the case, since he can’t kill me, why should I be afraid of him?”
Everyone else, “…”
Unexpectedly, his words did seem to make a lot of sense—no one was able to refute him.
