Elsewhere, Glasses and Buzz-Cut had barely returned to class when the system broadcasts went off.
They immediately turned to each other, eyes full of regret.
If only they’d stayed a little longer—watched how those players solved it. They might’ve snagged some leftovers.
Glasses seethed internally, making a silent mental note to remember this.
Meanwhile, the male player sitting behind them… was secretly overjoyed.
He was convinced now—he’d run into a pro. A real high-level player.
Ten minutes ago, that man had told him the ghost tale would be resolved by the end of the class. And ten minutes later, the system actually announced its completion.
If that wasn’t a high-level player, then what was?
That thing had nearly killed him—and they’d handled it in just a few minutes.
The male player instantly solidified his resolve to switch sides. The moment the bell rang for dinner, he bolted straight for the hallway where he’d last seen them.
But by the time he got there, the place was empty—just a box of chalk left behind.
“…Where’d they go?”
***
Fu Changxun’s group—four players plus one NPC—had headed to the cafeteria before class ended.
They couldn’t live on takeout every day, and with classes still in session, there wouldn’t be any NPCs in the cafeteria just yet. If they went early, maybe they could even snag some of the good stuff.
When they walked in like they owned the place, the NPC cafeteria aunties were momentarily stunned.
Class wasn’t even over yet—how could students be this bold? Skipping class so openly?
Fu Changxun didn’t care what the NPCs thought. He went straight to the counter.
“Got any potato stew? Or sweet and sour pork? Fish-fragrant shredded pork would work too.”
He remembered those were the only half-decent dishes the cafeteria cook could make. Everything else tasted like standard school food: bland, overcooked, and universally hated.
The lunch lady blinked. “…We do.”
“Great. We’ll take two servings of each.” Fu Changxun handed over his meal card and placed the order like he’d done it a hundred times.
The NPC auntie had never seen anything like this. She froze for half a minute before nervously reaching for the trays, her hands trembling as she scooped the food.
“Don’t be nervous, Auntie.” Qiu Yi gently pressed down on the tray to steady it. “We came early just to support your cooking. I’m sure the head chef wouldn’t want us to miss out.”
NPC: “…Okay.”
She looked even more confused now, unsure how to handle these students.
Cafeteria rules forbade wasting food, fighting, or making a scene—but there weren’t any rules against “arriving early” or “asking for extra servings,” right?
Huang Yueran followed Qiu Yi’s lead and managed to score a full plate of sweet and sour pork. “Thanks, Auntie!”
NPC: “…Y-You’re welcome.”
So the group returned to their table triumphant.
Only after they sat down and started eating did the bell ring for dismissal.
Two minutes later, the student NPCs arrived—sprinting like Olympic sprinters, faces blank, not even out of breath. One by one, they filed in and lined up to order food like robots. No expression, no fatigue. Just an eerie, synchronized rhythm.
They took trays, watched the meat slide onto the rice, and walked to their seats.
Except this time, something was different.
One NPC’s usual seat had already been taken.
Confused, he stood there holding his tray, circling the spot—currently occupied by Fu Changxun—like a looped animation, unable to figure out what to do.
“You can sit there instead,” Fu Changxun pointed behind him. “Or is it that, unless I move, you’re just going to keep spinning in circles?”
The NPC stopped, nodded, then shook his head, and finally sat down in the new spot.
He understood speech—but the chain reaction caused by this minor seating disruption was like a line of dominoes. One seat changed, and suddenly everyone’s seat had to change.
Before Fu Changxun was even halfway through his meal, nearly half the cafeteria’s NPCs had shifted positions.
“This is getting a little too chaotic,” Huang Yueran said nervously. “We didn’t break any rules, right? I mean, all we did was sit in an NPC’s seat…”
Qiu Yi: “It’s fine, it’s fine. No way that counts as a violation… right?”
Fu Changxun served Xiao Xiao another scoop of sweet and sour pork. The little girl was quietly focused on eating.
He smiled calmly. “It’s fine. Don’t pay too much attention to the NPCs. Just pretend they don’t exist.”
***
After finishing their meal and wiping their mouths, the group got up to leave.
At the same time, the male player—having circled the school building in search of them—finally gave up and headed to the cafeteria in hunger.
Just as he walked in, he bumped straight into Fu Changxun and the others.
He lit up like a lamp. “I finally found you guys! Do you need an extra hand? I can do anything! I’m a really hard worker! Those other two players are way too passive. They’re scared of everything and won’t take any initiative!”
Fu Changxun: “Oh? So you’re defecting? Coming to our side for the sake of clearing the instance?”
Male player: “Exactly!”
His eyes were practically begging.
Xiao Xiao was starting to feel sorry for him. She tugged gently on gege’s sleeve.
Fu Changxun patted him on the shoulder. “Alright… then just pay attention in class tonight, and get a good night’s sleep.”
“…Huh?”
“Just do what I said. We’ll give you a task tomorrow.” Fu Changxun was decisive. “Now go eat. You won’t survive the instance on an empty stomach.”
That rare moment of kindness caught the male player off guard. He was actually a little moved.
He bowed earnestly, then hurried off to scrape together whatever food was left.
***
“You’re seriously thinking of letting him join us tomorrow?” Qiu Yi asked in a low voice.
Huang Yueran leaned in to listen too.
Fu Changxun let out a small sigh, then shook his head. “Do you really think he’d be willing to work alongside Teacher Xiao? She nearly killed him, remember?”
Right. That player didn’t yet know that the terrifying glass-covered monster was actually Xiao Xiao’s mom.
If he found out now, he’d probably backpedal on the spot—or worse, run off and become a lone wolf. There was no way he’d work with those other two again, but he definitely wouldn’t cooperate with a former NPC either.
“Oh, by the way,” Fu Changxun added, “I remember we used to have weekly quizzes in school. Don’t know if this place has them, but just in case—I suggest everyone pay attention in class….I can’t guarantee you won’t run into one.”
That made Huang Yueran pause.
She’d never understood why Fu Changxun seemed to know so much—but hearing this, she suddenly realized she’d been duped all along.
That whole “unreliable precognition ability” thing? Total bullshit.
But hey, she was already on the pirate ship.
Too late to jump now.
***
Dinner finished, and after a long day of stress and tension, the group finally allowed themselves to relax—just a little.
Evening self-study didn’t involve lectures—just review of the day’s lessons—so once the two sessions ended, students were allowed to return to their dorms and rest.
Of course, for the players, this rest period came with a very different kind of “education”: learning how to stay alive.
During the two evening sessions, Xiao Xiao had gone out to play with her mom, while Fu Changxun and Qiu Yi stayed behind in the classroom.
Prompted by Fu Changxun, Qiu Yi and Huang Yueran realized that, given their current roles as students, they’d very likely have to face a test—a formidable obstacle.
So the two of them, long removed from campus life and already several years into their careers, were forced to pick up their textbooks again and endure the sensation of reading incomprehensible gibberish.
Eventually, 9:30 arrived. As the NPCs trickled out of the classroom and returned to their dorms, only a few players remained. Glasses and Buzz Cut wore their disdain openly.
Fu Changxun, however, didn’t care.
“I’d advise you,” he said, tone casual, “don’t rush to sleep just yet. Keep an eye out tonight—there might be something strange.”
He even offered a friendly warning. “But try not to confront it head-on. It’s dangerous, okay?”
Glasses sneered. “Worry about yourself first, why don’t you!”
Fu Changxun smiled. “Oh, I always do. As for the rest of you? I honestly couldn’t care less.”
With that, he packed up his things and headed downstairs to meet Qiu Yi. The two of them returned to their dorm together. Huang Yueran also left, tugging Xiao Xiao along with her. Only Glasses and Buzz Cut remained in the classroom, quietly plotting something between them.
When Fu Changxun pushed open the dorm room door, all the “people” inside looked up at him in unison. But although his Charisma stat was unusually high, the NPCs remained more preoccupied with their own affairs and soon returned to whatever they were doing.
There seemed to be a bit more energy in the dorm tonight—idle chatter about gossip or favorite athletes drifting through the air.
But if you really listened, it quickly became clear that everything they said was outdated by several years—and repeated in cycles, with no variation.
That made things feel even more eerie.
It was as if these people were dolls running on programmed scripts—doing what they were supposed to at certain times, devoid of freedom, of personal time, even of independent thought.
Even the lunch lady in the cafeteria from earlier tonight had seemed more alive than this.
A chill crept up Qiu Yi’s spine. He couldn’t help but whisper, “Dr. Fu… don’t they seem a little off to you?”
Fu Changxun nodded. “Just like a bunch of puppets on strings. That first group of students we saw in the cafeteria—they were the same. None of these NPCs are thinking for themselves.”
“That’s even creepier…”
Director Qiu’s hair practically stood on end. “There’s no way I’m falling asleep tonight.”
Fu Changxun didn’t confirm or deny. He merely chuckled, “Great. If you can stay awake, even better.”
And if you can’t—well, he’d already jinxed himself anyway.
At ten o’clock, the lights went out for bedtime. Both Fu Changxun and Qiu Yi had already climbed into bed. Right on the hour, every light in the building cut out at once.
No—not just this building. Even the streetlamps outside, and the moon in the sky, all winked out in an instant.
In the pitch darkness, Fu Changxun slowly closed his eyes.
In a situation like this, keeping your eyes open would only draw attention. He focused instead on listening to the sounds around him.
Qiu Yi’s breathing was a bit heavy—not asleep yet, probably still fighting the pull of drowsiness. The NPC above him shifted in bed. Another one nearby ground his teeth. Outside the window, a kitten meowed.
Ah—not a stranger. That was Xiao Hei, the little black cat he’d let out before coming back to the dorm.
The black cat paced outside the window, seemingly having spotted something. It let out a couple of soft meows.
Fu Changxun didn’t open his eyes. The sound was gentle, which meant it wasn’t anything urgent.
If it had yowled sharply, then yes, he’d have gotten up to check.
Time passed, minute by minute. After about half an hour, Qiu Yi’s breathing gradually steadied.
He’d fallen asleep again.
Fu Changxun sighed inwardly.
And just then, a sound reached his ears: drip… drip…
It was like a faucet that hadn’t been properly turned off.
But the noise had started all of a sudden—and before going to bed, Fu Changxun had definitely double-checked the taps in the dorm’s washroom. They’d been tightly shut. He remembered clearly.
