At 2:30 in the afternoon, everyone returned to the classroom.
The other three players were already sitting in their seats, perfectly disciplined.
Looking in from the windows, you’d think they’d blended into the crowd of NPCs completely.
“Did you guys notice anything during lunch?” Huang Yue was, as always, the first to approach them with a question—completely natural, like they’d never even been separated.
The three players exchanged glances, but none of them answered. Not a word.
Huang Yue didn’t seem the least bit bothered. She just went on, “Well, I’ll go first then. I slept through the whole break. Had a dream, too.”
As she spoke, she stared intently at their faces, trying to catch any telltale reactions.
One of the two players who always stuck together twitched slightly—just a faint tremble of the lips.
Huang Yue noticed it instantly.
The other player snapped, impatience in his voice: “Class is about to start. Can you go back to your seat? If you want to get yourself punished, fine. Just don’t drag us down with you.”
Huang Yue didn’t get angry.
She’d already gotten the answer she wanted and didn’t press further.
Fu Changxun silently observed the exchange, following her gaze to focus on the same player.
Buzz cut. Sitting next to his bespectacled companion. The two were exchanging looks—but they didn’t dare speak.
Why?
One look at the schedule made it clear. The afternoon wasn’t packed—there was even a period for outdoor PE—but it also included another language class. When the stern-looking Chinese teacher NPC strode into the room again, the player who’d been punished earlier couldn’t help but flinch, fear flashing in his eyes.
That NPC demanded absolute silence. Their nerves had to stay taut like a wire.
It was a brutal test of psychological endurance.
The Chinese teacher’s first move was to walk to the back of the classroom, stopping in front of Xiao Xiao.
“Why would you bring a child into the classroom? For—”
The second time he tried to repeat the question, he only got one word out before falling silent.
Because Xiao Xiao had raised her head.
In her clear, glassy eyes, the NPC’s stunned—and then slowly warping—face was reflected perfectly.
“She got lost,” Fu Changxun said suddenly, raising his hand. He’d realized something was off. “Is it against the rules to have a child in class? I don’t think there’s any regulation that says that.”
He raised his hand before speaking and didn’t insult the teacher directly, so the instance couldn’t penalize him for it.
The NPC saw him—and instantly, its distorted expression contorted even further.
To NPCs, players who understood the rules—and worse, used those rules to their advantage—were to be treated with extreme caution. Some instances had even seen players reverse-kill NPCs using just the system’s mechanics.
The odds were low, but it wasn’t unheard of.
The Chinese teacher, looking deeply fed up, clearly wanted nothing to do with him.
So the NPC dropped the subject, turned back to the front, and started teaching.
Fu Changxun had been thoroughly ignored. He just shrugged awkwardly and sat down, quietly flipping open his textbook and actually starting to pay attention—taking notes, even.
He’d only just graduated college and started working recently, but most of his high school knowledge was long gone. There was a saying that a university student’s intelligence was about on par with a grade-schooler’s—and honestly, it wasn’t far off.
For most people, their cognitive peak was right around the college entrance exams. After that, it was all downhill.
“There might even be a weekly quiz…” he speculated silently. “Can’t underestimate how sadistic this instance can get. But I’ve really forgotten everything…”
The three other players all pretended to listen, but the lesson went in one ear and out the other.
The buzz-cut player even shot Fu Changxun a couple of sideways glances.
Then rolled his eyes, clearly looking down on this guy “pretending to be a goody-two-shoes inside an instance.”
Fu Changxun: “……”
Whatever. Doesn’t matter. Sitting here either way—might as well find something to do.
Even the Chinese teacher NPC seemed a bit shocked to have a player genuinely engaging in class. In fact, they seemed slightly pleased—their voice picked up with a bit more enthusiasm as they lectured.
Fu Changxun kept an eye on the classroom clock. When he estimated there were six minutes left until class ended, he cleared his throat softly.
Huang Yue, sitting near the back, immediately looked up—clearly, he was about to make his move. Her task was to keep an eye on Xiao Xiao until he returned.
Xiao Xiao understood too. She sniffled slightly, signaling that she got the message.
Then, Fu Changxun deliberately snapped his textbook shut and tapped his NPC deskmate. “Hey, do we still have physical activity during the break this afternoon? Is it running drills or calisthenics?”
The NPC beside him jumped like he’d been shocked, his mouth opening and closing a few times without managing to squeeze out a single word.
At the same time, the Chinese teacher NPC instantly locked on to the disturbance and marched over. “You’re disrupting class discipline! Why are you talking during the lesson? You’re wasting our precious study time. You’ll have to go stand in the hallway as punishment!”
To everyone’s surprise, the teacher didn’t immediately throw him out.
The player who’d been punished earlier was utterly dumbfounded—What the hell? Why was this NPC playing favorites now?
This time the outburst had been even louder, and had absolutely nothing to do with class!
Fu Changxun hadn’t expected this either. He quickly ran through the possible differences between him and that earlier player.
Maybe it was because he’d actually been paying attention in class?
But that wasn’t the outcome he wanted—he wanted to get thrown out so he could deal with the hallway monster.
So, screw it. He doubled down. “I’ll take the punishment then,” he said. “Your lecture was making me drowsy anyway. A breath of fresh air should help.”
Making me drowsy…
The NPC’s face contorted with fury, all thoughts of “rules” and “listening attentively” forgotten in an instant. Enraged, the teacher grabbed him and hurled him out of the classroom.
Criticizing a teacher’s class for being boring and sleep-inducing? Unforgivable!
Absolutely intolerable.
Fu Changxun had achieved his goal and was smoothly tossed out of the room. There were still five minutes left before class ended. The monster hadn’t appeared yet, but time was already tight.
He didn’t waste a second—bolted down the stairs to find Qiu Yi.
Director Qiu, sitting in a senior class upstairs, had been anxiously waiting for this. The moment he heard those familiar footsteps, he rushed out of the room without hesitation.
The two met up, and Fu Changxun spoke hurriedly, “Quick—while it hasn’t arrived yet, let’s set everything up!”
On their way to the classroom building after lunch, they’d already made a plan. The items they’d bought were meant to stall the monster—enough to let them see what it looked like, and, ideally, to survive the encounter. If they could capture it? Even better.
“In a bit, we’ll run in opposite directions and see who it follows,” Qiu Yi was saying, “then we lure it into the trap—”
But before he could finish, a shadow appeared at the end of the hallway—pitch-black, interspersed with dazzling, blinding flashes. It moved at terrifying speed, crossing the length of a full classroom in just three seconds.
“RUN!!”
They both turned and bolted in opposite directions, defensive items activated, sprinting down separate halls.
At the junction, the monster paused for three seconds… then gave chase—to the left.
Left meant… Fu Changxun, who was sprinting toward the exit of the building.
It moved so fast he didn’t dare look back, just barreled straight for the door.
…And couldn’t get through.
A massive force yanked at him, holding him back, refusing to let him leave the school building.
So you can’t leave during class hours? That was a rule he’d overlooked.
The monster was already charging at him—its entire body covered in glittering, blade-like fragments. He couldn’t even make out its face, or its shape.
Panic surged. Fu Changxun pivoted, darting back into the corridor, and summoned the dandelion.
His ability was useless—the monster’s appearance was too bizarre. There were no visible eyes to make contact with, no way to hypnotize it. But Dandelion, noisy as it was, remained his strongest trump card. Useless in many ways… but unmatched in a fight.
Sure enough, the moment it emerged, it started squawking, “You locked me up for so long! I—”
Fu Changxun cut it off. “No time for that. Hold it off for two minutes!”
Dandelion huffed. “Ugh, fine, fine.”
It quickly realized how desperate its owner was and leapt into action.
Not that fighting stopped it from talking.
As its fully grown leaves and roots lashed out to grab and pummel the monster, its little flower bobbed toward Fu Changxun. “What is this thing?! It looks so weird! All shiny and flashy—ow! It’s covered in broken glass!”
“OW OW OW it’s stabbing my leaves! My roots! Fine, then I’ll stab you back!”
“I’ve got it wrapped up! What an ugly thing. Why are you always fighting these hideous things? And they’re all so stabby! Lucky you’ve got me. Hurry up and say thank you to your darling Dandelion!”
Fu Changxun smiled. “Thanks. Are you hurt badly? Should I have you let go?”
Dandelion perked up proudly, petals fluffing. “Not badly! This is nothing. I’m super tough.”
“You’re amazing,” Fu Changxun said sincerely. While it was in a good mood, he quickly asked, “So how does it attack?”
Dandelion peeled back one of its leaves, revealing a narrow opening.
The monster’s entire body was encrusted with razor-sharp shards of glass. Just brushing past a person would instantly slice their skin open in dozens of places. That first player must’ve been cut over and over like this—bleeding out a little more each time until he was done for.
And yet, it still had a human shape—limbs, torso, head, the whole outline.
It looked like… a person who’d been forcibly embedded with shattered glass from head to toe.
Absolutely terrifying.
Fu Changxun wanted to study it more, but there were only five seconds left before the bell rang. He quickly ducked to get a better look at its face.
Five seconds later, the bell rang. Like someone had pressed a universal pause button, the entire school building seemed to exhale—and Qiu Yi came sprinting back from the other hallway.
“Eh?” Dandelion made a confused noise. “Where’d it go? I just had it in my leaves!”
Fu Changxun had seen it vanish and shook his head. “Not your fault. The instance rules kicked in. The moment class ended, it was forced to disappear.”
Which meant the attempt to capture it had ultimately failed—and worse, the monster was now alert to them.
But it wasn’t a total loss.
Qiu Yi ran up to him, panting, scanning him from head to toe. “You okay? Halfway through my run I realized it wasn’t chasing me after all. Knew it—it was coming after you.”
Fu Changxun nodded, a faint smile flickering in his eyes. “I saw it.”
He knew what that thing was now.
