For a time, it was so silent that only the sound of breathing was clearly audible.
The Magicianâs curled finger continued to tap rhythmically on the table, again and again, striking straight to everyoneâs heart.
All expressions were revealed under the dim lighting.
No. 2 was his usual, the same unsmiling veneer. On the other hand, Tsuchimikado perceived that the atmosphere was odd, so he smiled supportively. The other two class monitors were completely incredulous.
Only the corners of Black Shamanâs lips, on the pale face under the hood, slyly cocked upwards.
Truly, a plan that fell outside of expectations.
It was general knowledge that the only person who could destroy an instance was that unnamed guy who stood above. The means and the process were unknown; all anyone ever saw was a silhouette stepping out from a collapsing instance.
The reason why the Devil was able to gain such a following in this world had an inextricable connection to this.
Horror instances were a nightmare for contenders. With every survival in the infinite loop, they would be given a variable number of days off depending on their performance and rating. If they did well, they could have a month off. If they did poorly, they might only have three days before they were made to enter their next.
Everyone was struggling to survive in these bleak instances, and even Gui Guzi, once unanimously acknowledged as the strongest, was unable to break through the restraints of instances.
Yet the Devil could.
Not only was he able to crush the instance, but he could also wreck it, effortlessly toying with it in the palm of his hand. Trampling the root of everyoneâs fear underfoot.
Precisely because of this, No. 1âs seat on the sacred altar was unshakeable, wherefrom he looked down on all creation.
Apart from him, no one else was able to wreck a horror instance, even the lowest F-rank instances.
Class 6âs monitor immediately wanted to cry out in mockery, but upon meeting the white-haired Magicianâs icy gaze, his words got caught in his throat midway. It took a long time before he muttered, âSounds like a fine idea, but if it were that easy to wreck an instance, many S-ranks would have done so already.â
âYou seem to have gotten one thing wrong.â
Zong Jiu smiled. âI donât have to win your confidence. I only need you to obey orders.â
Beneath the light, his pale pink eyes were as sharp as unsheathed swords, and the two class monitors averted their gazes with a shudder, shrinking back.
Deep thought flickered past the eyes of the half-vampire sitting by the side.
It was only at this moment that he realised his childhood friend, who used to follow behind him in a flowery dress and plaited hair while crying his eyes out, had actually grown up to what he was in the present.
Although Zong Jiuâs family was different from Van Zhuoâs, a noble family with a single line of succession, it was definitely still well-off. It went without saying that his family wouldnât have to worry about getting by day-to-day, and even if cut off from financial resources, their wealth would last them several generations.
Moreover, the other was a pampered young master in an influential family. Due to his albinism, he had stood apart since young and was sought-after at social networking events.
While Van Zhuoâs memories of the past were rather fuzzy, somehow, he had suddenly recalled some details in the recent days.
For example, his assistant had mentioned before that this young master Zong had an arrogant personality. He had innumerable suitors and a poor reputation.
Weâre sorry for MTLers or people who like using reading mode, but our translations keep getting stolen by aggregators so weâre going to bring back the copy protection. If you need to MTL please retype the gibberish parts.
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However, Zong Jiu was thrust right into the Thriller Trainee competition.
This difference in personality was what kept Van Zhuo from rushing to make his greetings in Las Vegas.
Although Zong Jiu explained later that it was because he had lost his memory, the doubts that the Night Clan leader secretly harboured did not dispel.
After amnesia, would there really be such⌠a large change in temperament and personality?
As No. 2 considered this, he suddenly sensed an abnormal malicious intent.
The half-vampire looked up sharply, yet found nothing out of place.
Across from him, Black Shaman was indifferently examining the black mist floating around his slim fingers, not sparing him a glance.
â
Despite taking an afternoon and a night off, Class 9 remained in poor spirits the next day.
In fact, this wasnât only true of Class 9, but of the other four classes as well. No one was able to focus their attention on their studies after hearing the requirements for the final exam.
Nearing the semester-end, all knowledge points that should have been explained and studied had already been covered. Lesson-time was basically used on drilling practice papers, and even if the teacher went through anything, it would only be the high-difficulty Olympiad questions. Only a handful of trainees were able to keep up in class.
Perhaps as the semester was ending, also spurred by First High Schoolâs demanding cut-off scores for the finals, the school was less strict with the trainees. Not only did they get an extra half-hour of sleep in the morning, but they also opened a study room in the hostel for them specifically for this final sprint. If anyone no longer felt the need to attend classes, they could also apply to the homeroom teacher for self-study, then simply head to the office if they encountered any problems.
Naturally, the grim reaper loomed behind this leniency.
Regardless of the class or the study method they used, the cut-off score for the final exam was drawn there and wouldnât be lowered on account of anyone.
The saying went that tears shouldnât be shed lightly, and yet the eyes of every trainee in Class 9 were swollen.
When all had arrived, at the sight of the vacant seat in the middle that would never be filled and the faceless man whose senses were deadened to the worldâthe rims of their eyes involuntarily reddened again.
At that moment, one thing was clear to everyoneâŚ
The departed would never again return.
Zong Jiu walked into the classroom to see this scene. Everyoneâs heads were bowed.
He closed the door behind him. A few white-edged cards abruptly flashed between his fingers, and he flung them at several corners of the classroom with lightning-quick momentum.
âCrackle⌠SzzâŚâ
The security cameras and wiretaps in the corners were shattered all of a sudden, the wires inside emitting smoke and spilling onto the ground.
With that done, the Magician turned his head back, and the white hair behind him melded with the daylight from the window, like glacial snow capping the Alps throughout the year.
Zong Jiuâs voice was as always, inflectionless and calm.
âClass 9 will not lose anyone else. The number of people here now will be the number of people I take out. Alive and well.â
Anyone with ears could hear the deep rage boiling beneath his calm countenance.
Except for index 15, who was almost as good as brain dead, the other ninety-seven peopleâs attention was on him.
No one spoke. There were only low sobs, for no words were needed right now.
âStarting from today, we wonât be studying anymore.â
It was always progressively harder to raise oneâs score. This was before even taking into account that First High School had a hundred marks in the exam booklet dedicated to Olympiad questions. It was a pipe dream to get 1000 in an 1150-mark paper.
Let alone thirty days, even if the class was given another hundred and twenty days, there was no way that theyâd be able to pull the class average up to the final cut-off score without more converting into faceless people.
Since studying had become useless, then why study?
Zong Jiu was cold in the face of their bewilderment.
âIndex 99 and 15 cannot have died in vain; this vengeance cannot be forgotten.â
Exactly.
The entire class of trainees clenched their fists.
âThe plan will be implemented on the day of the final exam, so we donât need it.â
The white-haired young man breezily said, âLetâs just directly send this instance to hell, okay?â
Ninety-seven people had their spirits ignited, saying with one voice, âYes!â
While the surveillance had been smashed, the bullet chat was still on.
Every contender watching this live broadcast was stunned.
[WTF, the Magician isnât saying what I think heâs saying, is heâŚ]
[Same here. Although I know that heâs always been quite wild, this is too motherfucking wild. I have to stress that that guy is in this instance too; can a fight not break out?]
[Woooo, burn it up! Class 9 is out for revenge!]
[Eek though I think itâs a bit too hard to wreck the instance, even harder than surviving to the end⌠The Magician is often able to work miracles. Even if it doesnât succeed in the end, Iâll still remember how moved I am right now.]
[Iâm rooting for the Magician, jiayou Class 9! Anyhow, Iâm clearly a die-hard fan of No. 1, why am I climbing over to the Magicianâs fanbase now (no, you)]
Zong Jiuâs plan was about to begin.
But before that, he needed everyone to obey him.
This plan was a long time in the making. From the moment that he had learned of the clue from Tsuchimikadoâs paper shikigami at the Corpse Pit, Zong Jiu had already thought it through.
The plan was very simple. The only shortcoming was that it could only be implemented on the day of the final exam. It had a success rate of 99%, but it required extremely close-knit cooperation and the timing had to be grasped wellâthey couldnât let slip even a single second.
In order to avoid the emergence of blabbers or snitches like in the first monthly exam, Zong Jiu required absolute subservience and cooperation from everyone.
This was wherein the problem lay.
He didnât trust anyone.
However, this distrust was also graded. In this case alone, Tsuchimikado and Van Zhuo could be considered as cooperating with his plan, while the other two class monitors were only interested in saving their own necks, which didnât pose too much of a risk.
Now that there was a dead-end ahead, their fear of death conversely became an advantage that would have them cooperate with him. Besides that, the only problem was the uncertain factors existed in the remaining four classes.
For example, the snitches who had managed to survive until now. If it happened once, it could naturally happen a second time.
To resolve this lurking danger, Zong Jiu went straight to the point, getting the other class monitors to call these uncertain factors over. Then, he grabbed hold of them and hauled them straight to the Devilâs office.
Index 99âs sacrifice saved the entire class, which meant that Zong Jiu had yet to redeem his reward from No. 1.
He thought of a better way to utilise this âNPCâs assistanceâ.
Such as now.
Zong Jiu flung the few people over, brazenly commanding, âHave them obey me, I donât want them getting in the way.â
No. 1, head propped on a hand, watching him with a smile: âŚâŚ?