Zong Jiu believed himself to be weak in emotions. Rarely could people spark such intense emotional fluctuations in him.
—except No. 1, who was able to step on his triggers with pinpoint precision each time.
Zong Jiu didn’t show an ounce of mercy at all, putting his full weight into this one stomp.
Blocked by the shadows of the podium, no one discovered this action. Even the bullet chat wouldn’t be bored enough to zoom in on their feet.
First High School provided their students with ordinary canvas shoes. These shoes had no other advantage than their hard soles.
This forceful stomp ought to feel pretty good.
Yet the black-haired man’s expression didn’t flicker in the slightest, and even his cadence when teaching carried nary a billow.
Only the minute clenching of his white gloves hinted at his mood.
“The heart is within the mediastinum, enclosed by the ribcage. It is located superior to the diaphragm.”
The force at the tip of the teacher’s pointer increased, slowly wandering away from the heart.
If he kept gunning for critical areas like this, Zong Jiu was seriously going to pick a fight with No. 1 on the spot.
However, before the white-haired young man could even exhale, the other’s next move almost caused his back to weaken.
The cold, hard tip circled down to the lower side of his heart, poking left and right with utmost malice.
The bigger problem was while playing tricks, No. 1 still eloquently lectured about human biology. His voice is like the hum of a cello, its bow gliding slowly across bass strings.
The bone-piercing iciness reminded Zong Jiu of the unremitting chill of the Devil’s body temperature.
But this didn’t impede him from continuing to grind his foot.
While the two of them secretly battled it out behind the hallowed podium, the students below were writing their notes furiously, working hard towards their survival.
Even the bullet chat studiously followed along.
[I got it, I got it. Mr. Nan is pretty good at teaching.]
[I feel like as long as I watch this instance to the end, I can retake my high school exams again (as if lol)]
[Huh, what he’s saying is actually accurate. Has No. 1 studied human anatomy before?]
[Am I the only one who thinks the Magician’s expression looks really dark? If I had to describe it, he looks kinda livid?]
[Who’d be in a good mood if they’re called out like that? However, I’m still looking forward to seeing how the Magician performs in this instance, hopefully he can quickly ascend the ranks.]
[Same here. Magician’s career fans send their kudos!]
The period dragged on for tortuously long.
Finally, the class bell rang when Zong Jiu’s foot was about to tire of stomping.
Little did he expect No. 1 to not only remain unmoved but even began to blatantly drag out the class.
Ycis ktfc j ofk wlceafr bo atf lcafgnji yfakffc mijrrfr gfwjlcfv vlv atf Gfnli fcv atf vfwbcragjalnf tewjc jcjabws ifrrbc klat mbcrlvfgjyif gfiemajcmf, klatvgjk atf qblcafg, jcv mtemxif.
“Ktjcx sbe ab atlr raevfca obg sbeg jrrlrajcmf.”
Ibcu Ale qeiifv tlr eclobgw hlqqfg yjmx eq, rcbgalcu, jcv gfaegcfv ab tlr rfja klatbea j rlcuif aegc bo tlr tfjv, Vfcvlcu fnfgsbcf j nlfk bo atf ktlaf jcv lcvloofgfca yjmx bo tlr tfjv.
Having reclaimed a round, the Devil was in a good mood as he went back to his office.
The workspaces of First High’s teachers were all in one room. However, because the NPC No. 1 acted had a special status, he had a small adjourning office to himself, enjoying the same treatment as a year head.
It so happened that a faceless teacher at the water cooler turned over when he entered the teacher’s offices, looking surprised to see him.
“Mr. Nan, what happened to your shoes? Was it raining outside?”
“Oh, you mean this.”
The corners of No. 1’s lips curved. “A cat stepped on it. It’s no bother.”
“There are cats on our campus?” The faceless man was dubious.
“Of course. One with a silver pelt.”
The Devil’s smile deepened. “Fierce, but still quite cute.”
—
The days after passed extraordinarily quickly.
With a knife hanging at the neck of every trainee, revision had never been more efficient, such that no one objected to the daily grind of studying again and again and again.
During this time, apart from the monthly exams, there were also routine quizzes every week.
In the same hostel room, the class monitors shared the results privately.
Undoubtedly, the class with the highest score in the year was still Class 1 with its two powerhouses.
Surprisingly, the last place wasn’t Class 10, without a single student in the top ten, but Class 8.
Class 9, Zong Jiu’s class, didn’t have promising results. Their ranking hovered between eighth and ninth place.
The worst-performing class would be eliminated this time. Who could guarantee Class 9 wouldn’t be it during the monthly exam?
For this, Zong Jiu had even taken the results list and set up study groups for trainees with better scores in the class to tutor those whose scores fell behind.
These study groups were arranged for the third period of evening self-study. Every day after the second period of evening self-study, everyone from Class 9 would consciously stay behind, putting the tables together and tutoring each other.
“We’re now sharing the same fate. As long as one person drags their feet in the upcoming monthly exam, there’s a good chance the entire class will be implicated. We’re all adults. There’s not much for me to reason it out with you. Everyone here is a B-rank trainee, so I doubt any of you will fail to grasp this logic.”
This time, when students in the class checked the weekly quiz results, no one retorted, each choosing to do as they were told.
Speaking of which, it was the misfortune of Class 9.
In their class, some of those whose scores lagged were foreign students who had taken ACTs, SATs, and A-levels. Leaving aside the difficulty level, the syllabus itself was different. Though other trainees had forgotten, at least they still had a dim recollection of the foundation, but these foreign students had to start from the top and were naturally far behind other trainees in terms of proficiency and absorption.
Then there’s the trainee at index 99. Zong Jiu had never seen a more mystifying existence than him, who was completely hopeless at being taught.
Finally, after yet another question was answered incorrectly, the white-haired young man set down the book, massaging his temples. “If you really can’t establish a logical understanding, you’d better concentrate on humanities first by memorising the book.”
While it wasn’t as though pure memorisation would allow one to excel in humanities subjects, Zong Jiu lost even the strength to roast him in the face of index 99’s paper.
He, like Tsuchimikado of Class 7, had the magical brain circuits of an underachiever, utterly incomprehensible to bystanders.
Index 99 looked on the verge of tears. “Sorry, Magi—class monitor. Sorry, I’m really sorry.”
Everyone’s nerves were incredibly strained during these thirty days.
All measures they formerly judged people by were disrupted. Only ‘score’ was the one unshakeable indicator.
Although no one spoke of it on the surface, students in other classes who did poorly in their studies were having a hard time.
Especially those in classes near the end of the bell curve and using every means to raise their average score. Even so, the students at the bottom of the class were not only scrutinised by the school board but were also being hassled by the NPC teachers.
For example, index 99 was frequently punished to get out of class because he couldn’t answer the questions when called on.
He was simply a floater who didn’t belong to any guild before this. Not expecting the Magician, solidly seated at the top of the class, to personally tutor him, he was overwhelmed with gratitude whilst being wracked with anxiety at his slow learning progress.
“It’s okay. It’s not your fault you can’t grasp it. Everyone has their strengths.”
Zong Jiu felt his temper had improved significantly in this instance. “Look, Class 7’s Tsuchimikado is even an S-rank, but his scores are worse than yours. Don’t belittle yourself.”
Index 99’s eyes were watery with hot tears. “Yes! I will continue to work hard!”
[Never would I ever have thought that in a mere ten days, even an S-rank would fall out of favour.]
[I used to think Tsuchimikado didn’t revise, but now I know. He’s a True Studying Scum.]
[Even if clueless on how to do MCQ, there would be a 25% chance of getting it right. Yet Tsuchimikado has a 100% hit rate of the wrong answer. /candle.jpg]
[Who would have guessed? Unlucky & an underachiever. Seriously the most disastrous combo.]
After returning to the hostel in the evening, room 101 held another group meeting.
“It’ll be the first monthly exam in three days. Does anyone have any better suggestions?”
They’d come up with several ideas during these twenty-over days, including Van Zhuo’s initial suggestion of everyone submitting blank scripts, etc.
But all of these ideas had obvious flaws. It was difficult to forecast the consequences if something went awry.
The system’s intent was clear. The collective instance was a process of elimination. In addition, the ten classes were still competitors. Even if they stayed in the same hostel, it was difficult to set down their defences and stand in unity.
“Why don’t we try handing in blank papers first.”
Van Zhuo tapped on the table rhythmically, his dark red eyes pensive.
“We have to try something. It’ll also be good if we could use this to feel out where the system’s bottom line rests.”
This time, no one objected.
Black Shaman even supplemented a Plan B.
It’s easy to check if a paper was blank. As long as students monitored each other at the examination venue, no student would pick up their pen.
If someone did, the plan would be nullified and they’d take the exam as per normal. After all, lives were at stake. If it was spoiled by a malicious rat, then such a non-binding agreement could only be scrapped.
Though the success rate wasn’t high, everyone still decided to give it a go.
Since that was settled, the next step was to inform every student.
With cameras and surveillance devices all over First High, messages could only be relayed one by one.
So, the class monitors chose to call out one person from each hostel room and get these people to pass the message on their behalf, reminding everyone to keep their vigilance up.
“On the day of the exam, no one should touch their pens. You can sleep or keep silent. As long as everyone does so, I assure you the group behaviour won’t result in excessive spillover to the individual.”
As such, the major news that trainees were planning to rebel en masse began to secretly circulate. In just one day, like a surging riptide, everyone knew about this plan.
If it could be perfectly executed, then there’s indeed no better solution.
However, something ended up happening when they were just one day away from the first monthly exam. After all, with a thousand trainees, it was impossible to keep everyone in check at all times.
An intentional remark in a hostel room was caught by a wiretap. Teaching assistants caught those ten trainees, flogging them in the corridor.
Other rooms had their doors tightly shut. No one dared to leave their rooms, but no one was asleep either.
Blood-curdling shrieks echoed through the empty corridors the entire night, piercing into bone marrows.
After a dozen lashes, a B-rank trainee spilled the beans.
Once someone did, the other nine naturally followed suit.
In the room a wall away, Zong Jiu set down his pen. “The plan has failed.”
Indeed.
Not only was it a complete failure, but due to the leaked news, all trainees were herded to the quadrangle before daybreak on the next day. The teaching director notified them they were to stand at attention under the blazing sun for a full day.
They could take a five-minute break once every hour. However, if the teaching assistants caught any movement outside of that, it’d be an immediate lash down.
Punished in nude.
Zong Jiu believed himself to be weak in emotions. Rarely could people spark such intense emotional fluctuations in him.
—except No. 1, who was able to step on his triggers with pinpoint precision each time.
Zong Jiu didn’t show an ounce of mercy at all, putting his full weight into this one stomp.
Blocked by the shadows of the podium, no one discovered this action. Even the bullet chat wouldn’t be bored enough to zoom in on their feet.
First High School provided their students with ordinary canvas shoes. These shoes had no other advantage than their hard soles.
This forceful stomp ought to feel pretty good.
Yet the black-haired man’s expression didn’t flicker in the slightest, and even his cadence when teaching carried nary a billow.
Only the minute clenching of his white gloves hinted at his mood.
“The heart is within the mediastinum, enclosed by the ribcage. It is located superior to the diaphragm.”
The force at the tip of the teacher’s pointer increased, slowly wandering away from the heart.
If he kept gunning for critical areas like this, Zong Jiu was seriously going to pick a fight with No. 1 on the spot.
However, before the white-haired young man could even exhale, the other’s next move almost caused his back to weaken.
The cold, hard tip circled down to the lower side of his heart, poking left and right with utmost malice.
The bigger problem was while playing tricks, No. 1 still eloquently lectured about human biology. His voice is like the hum of a cello, its bow gliding slowly across bass strings.
The bone-piercing iciness reminded Zong Jiu of the unremitting chill of the Devil’s body temperature.
But this didn’t impede him from continuing to grind his foot.
While the two of them secretly battled it out behind the hallowed podium, the students below were writing their notes furiously, working hard towards their survival.
Even the bullet chat studiously followed along.
[I got it, I got it. Mr. Nan is pretty good at teaching.]
[I feel like as long as I watch this instance to the end, I can retake my high school exams again (as if lol)]
[Huh, what he’s saying is actually accurate. Has No. 1 studied human anatomy before?]
[Am I the only one who thinks the Magician’s expression looks really dark? If I had to describe it, he looks kinda livid?]
[Who’d be in a good mood if they’re called out like that? However, I’m still looking forward to seeing how the Magician performs in this instance, hopefully he can quickly ascend the ranks.]
[Same here. Magician’s career fans send their kudos!]
The period dragged on for tortuously long.
Finally, the class bell rang when Zong Jiu’s foot was about to tire of stomping.
Little did he expect No. 1 to not only remain unmoved but even began to blatantly drag out the class.
Ycis ktfc j ofk wlceafr bo atf lcafgnji yfakffc mijrrfr gfwjlcfv vlv atf Gfnli fcv atf vfwbcragjalnf tewjc jcjabws ifrrbc klat mbcrlvfgjyif gfiemajcmf, klatvgjk atf qblcafg, jcv mtemxif.
“Ktjcx sbe ab atlr raevfca obg sbeg jrrlrajcmf.”
Ibcu Ale qeiifv tlr eclobgw hlqqfg yjmx eq, rcbgalcu, jcv gfaegcfv ab tlr rfja klatbea j rlcuif aegc bo tlr tfjv, Vfcvlcu fnfgsbcf j nlfk bo atf ktlaf jcv lcvloofgfca yjmx bo tlr tfjv.
Having reclaimed a round, the Devil was in a good mood as he went back to his office.
The workspaces of First High’s teachers were all in one room. However, because the NPC No. 1 acted had a special status, he had a small adjourning office to himself, enjoying the same treatment as a year head.
It so happened that a faceless teacher at the water cooler turned over when he entered the teacher’s offices, looking surprised to see him.
“Mr. Nan, what happened to your shoes? Was it raining outside?”
“Oh, you mean this.”
The corners of No. 1’s lips curved. “A cat stepped on it. It’s no bother.”
“There are cats on our campus?” The faceless man was dubious.
“Of course. One with a silver pelt.”
The Devil’s smile deepened. “Fierce, but still quite cute.”
—
The days after passed extraordinarily quickly.
With a knife hanging at the neck of every trainee, revision had never been more efficient, such that no one objected to the daily grind of studying again and again and again.
During this time, apart from the monthly exams, there were also routine quizzes every week.
In the same hostel room, the class monitors shared the results privately.
Undoubtedly, the class with the highest score in the year was still Class 1 with its two powerhouses.
Surprisingly, the last place wasn’t Class 10, without a single student in the top ten, but Class 8.
Class 9, Zong Jiu’s class, didn’t have promising results. Their ranking hovered between eighth and ninth place.
The worst-performing class would be eliminated this time. Who could guarantee Class 9 wouldn’t be it during the monthly exam?
For this, Zong Jiu had even taken the results list and set up study groups for trainees with better scores in the class to tutor those whose scores fell behind.
These study groups were arranged for the third period of evening self-study. Every day after the second period of evening self-study, everyone from Class 9 would consciously stay behind, putting the tables together and tutoring each other.
“We’re now sharing the same fate. As long as one person drags their feet in the upcoming monthly exam, there’s a good chance the entire class will be implicated. We’re all adults. There’s not much for me to reason it out with you. Everyone here is a B-rank trainee, so I doubt any of you will fail to grasp this logic.”
This time, when students in the class checked the weekly quiz results, no one retorted, each choosing to do as they were told.
Speaking of which, it was the misfortune of Class 9.
In their class, some of those whose scores lagged were foreign students who had taken ACTs, SATs, and A-levels. Leaving aside the difficulty level, the syllabus itself was different. Though other trainees had forgotten, at least they still had a dim recollection of the foundation, but these foreign students had to start from the top and were naturally far behind other trainees in terms of proficiency and absorption.
Then there’s the trainee at index 99. Zong Jiu had never seen a more mystifying existence than him, who was completely hopeless at being taught.
Finally, after yet another question was answered incorrectly, the white-haired young man set down the book, massaging his temples. “If you really can’t establish a logical understanding, you’d better concentrate on humanities first by memorising the book.”
While it wasn’t as though pure memorisation would allow one to excel in humanities subjects, Zong Jiu lost even the strength to roast him in the face of index 99’s paper.
He, like Tsuchimikado of Class 7, had the magical brain circuits of an underachiever, utterly incomprehensible to bystanders.
Index 99 looked on the verge of tears. “Sorry, Magi—class monitor. Sorry, I’m really sorry.”
Everyone’s nerves were incredibly strained during these thirty days.
All measures they formerly judged people by were disrupted. Only ‘score’ was the one unshakeable indicator.
Although no one spoke of it on the surface, students in other classes who did poorly in their studies were having a hard time.
Especially those in classes near the end of the bell curve and using every means to raise their average score. Even so, the students at the bottom of the class were not only scrutinised by the school board but were also being hassled by the NPC teachers.
For example, index 99 was frequently punished to get out of class because he couldn’t answer the questions when called on.
He was simply a floater who didn’t belong to any guild before this. Not expecting the Magician, solidly seated at the top of the class, to personally tutor him, he was overwhelmed with gratitude whilst being wracked with anxiety at his slow learning progress.
“It’s okay. It’s not your fault you can’t grasp it. Everyone has their strengths.”
Zong Jiu felt his temper had improved significantly in this instance. “Look, Class 7’s Tsuchimikado is even an S-rank, but his scores are worse than yours. Don’t belittle yourself.”
Index 99’s eyes were watery with hot tears. “Yes! I will continue to work hard!”
[Never would I ever have thought that in a mere ten days, even an S-rank would fall out of favour.]
[I used to think Tsuchimikado didn’t revise, but now I know. He’s a True Studying Scum.]
[Even if clueless on how to do MCQ, there would be a 25% chance of getting it right. Yet Tsuchimikado has a 100% hit rate of the wrong answer. /candle.jpg]
[Who would have guessed? Unlucky & an underachiever. Seriously the most disastrous combo.]
After returning to the hostel in the evening, room 101 held another group meeting.
“It’ll be the first monthly exam in three days. Does anyone have any better suggestions?”
They’d come up with several ideas during these twenty-over days, including Van Zhuo’s initial suggestion of everyone submitting blank scripts, etc.
But all of these ideas had obvious flaws. It was difficult to forecast the consequences if something went awry.
The system’s intent was clear. The collective instance was a process of elimination. In addition, the ten classes were still competitors. Even if they stayed in the same hostel, it was difficult to set down their defences and stand in unity.
“Why don’t we try handing in blank papers first.”
Van Zhuo tapped on the table rhythmically, his dark red eyes pensive.
“We have to try something. It’ll also be good if we could use this to feel out where the system’s bottom line rests.”
This time, no one objected.
Black Shaman even supplemented a Plan B.
It’s easy to check if a paper was blank. As long as students monitored each other at the examination venue, no student would pick up their pen.
If someone did, the plan would be nullified and they’d take the exam as per normal. After all, lives were at stake. If it was spoiled by a malicious rat, then such a non-binding agreement could only be scrapped.
Though the success rate wasn’t high, everyone still decided to give it a go.
Since that was settled, the next step was to inform every student.
With cameras and surveillance devices all over First High, messages could only be relayed one by one.
So, the class monitors chose to call out one person from each hostel room and get these people to pass the message on their behalf, reminding everyone to keep their vigilance up.
“On the day of the exam, no one should touch their pens. You can sleep or keep silent. As long as everyone does so, I assure you the group behaviour won’t result in excessive spillover to the individual.”
As such, the major news that trainees were planning to rebel en masse began to secretly circulate. In just one day, like a surging riptide, everyone knew about this plan.
If it could be perfectly executed, then there’s indeed no better solution.
However, something ended up happening when they were just one day away from the first monthly exam. After all, with a thousand trainees, it was impossible to keep everyone in check at all times.
An intentional remark in a hostel room was caught by a wiretap. Teaching assistants caught those ten trainees, flogging them in the corridor.
Other rooms had their doors tightly shut. No one dared to leave their rooms, but no one was asleep either.
Blood-curdling shrieks echoed through the empty corridors the entire night, piercing into bone marrows.
After a dozen lashes, a B-rank trainee spilled the beans.
Once someone did, the other nine naturally followed suit.
In the room a wall away, Zong Jiu set down his pen. “The plan has failed.”
Indeed.
Not only was it a complete failure, but due to the leaked news, all trainees were herded to the quadrangle before daybreak on the next day. The teaching director notified them they were to stand at attention under the blazing sun for a full day.
They could take a five-minute break once every hour. However, if the teaching assistants caught any movement outside of that, it’d be an immediate lash down.
Punished in nude.
