Yuying University
Chapter 500: You’re useless, get out of here.
After the signal was interfered with, the live stream’s feed was cut off. The giant screen was left with only a few cold words:
[Reconnecting…]
Watching the live stream go offline at such a critical moment, the audience was about to go crazy.
[Ahhh! Nightmare, when the hell are you going to restore the live stream?]
[Ahhh, I’m so anxious, so anxious, so anxious!!!]
[You just have to drop the ball at the critical moment, don’t you? You’d better fix the signal within three seconds. If I don’t get to see the anchor’s third-round assessment, I don’t know what I’ll end up doing!!!]
Just as the audience was getting agitated, the real-time broadcast at the top of the live stream room suddenly updated.
“Third-round assessment rating… static… has ended…”
[Calculating total score for graduation thesis.]
In the top right corner of the live stream room was the total score ranking for the graduation thesis. After a brief refresh, Wen Jianyan’s name appeared.
It shot upwards, finally stopping at the very top.
Candidate Name: Wen Jianyan
Selected Subject: Dance
Thesis Rating: S
In the “Integrity First” live room:
[…]
[???]
[How much? Did I see that wrong? How much?]
[S???]
[Wait a minute, did I misunderstand something? The first round was a D, a failing grade. The second round was an A, which is pretty good. But no matter how you calculate it, the final average score can’t possibly be an S, right?]
[If the system’s calculation isn’t wrong, then the anchor’s score in the third round must have been terrifyingly high…]
[Ahhh! Ahhh, I’m going crazy! My life, my wonderful character, will all be ruined if I don’t get to see the anchor’s third-round dance!]
This time, the audience in the live stream room was furious.
[Fuck you, Nightmare, I’m seriously impressed. None of the points we give you are being put to good use, are they?]
[Complaint! Complaint!]
[!*!]
(System prompt: Please mind your language. Overly aggressive bullet comments will be regulated by the live stream room.)
Under the audience’s overly intense reaction, a line of text finally, slowly materialized on the dark screen.
[The live stream room has received your complaint and is working hard to resolve the connection BUG. Please be patient and wait.]
On the shattered surface of the mirror, the blood-red “SSS” was jarring and conspicuous, forcing its way into view.
“…”
Huh?
How much?
Wen Jianyan blinked, a trace of astonishment flashing in his eyes.
Indeed, everything was going according to his plan.
He had induced Wu Zhu’s fragment to awaken from its slumber and replace the original dance teacher as the examiner. Through almost fraudulent cheating methods, he had sought a high score for himself—Wen Jianyan felt no guilt about this.
After all, if the dance teacher hadn’t been so eager for him to be “sacrificed,” even to the point of forcibly increasing the difficulty and setting up a dead end, which led to him coming into contact with the sleeping fragment ahead of time, Wen Jianyan wouldn’t have been able to achieve his goal so easily.
However, the final score he achieved was something that not even Wen Jianyan, the mastermind himself, had expected.
He had actually only needed another A to pass, but…
SSS?
Wasn’t this score a bit terrifyingly high?
This was probably the theoretical limit, wasn’t it??
As if dissatisfied with his distraction, Wu Zhu leaned in and bit his throat.
“Ugh!”
The young man was forced to tilt his head back, subconsciously pressing on the other’s shoulders and back.
The retaliatory bite immediately lightened, and in the end, didn’t even break the skin.
Beneath its teeth was a human’s trembling throat. Wu Zhu bit mesmerizedly at that thin, hot piece of flesh and the trembling, rolling Adam’s apple beneath it, letting out a beast-like, pleased gurgle from its throat.
The beast was deeply engrossed, utterly captivated.
As if infected by the other, Wen Jianyan’s head tilted to the side, the divine light that had just gathered in his eyes wavering.
Endless darkness embraced him.
It clung to the young man’s skin, rubbing against him, kissing him, licking him, both domineeringly and affectionately, until the pale skin flushed with a shivering red, and the tense limbs became soft and trembling, as if responding to its passion.
“Ugh… you fucking… stop biting…”
The intermittent words were mixed with gasps.
The human’s fingers were still in the other’s long, cold hair, trembling and tightening slightly, not like a rejection, but more like an encouragement.
The darkness was bottomless, like an abyss, luring one to sink into it, never to be clear-headed again.
In the fall, everything became chaotic.
“…static…”
Suddenly, a distant, short, and familiar sound reached Wen Jianyan’s ears.
“…static… detecting… BUG…”
“…!”
Wen Jianyan’s lowered eyelids shot up, and he was abruptly pulled from his brief trance.
He seemed to have realized something.
Wen Jianyan’s fingers tightened abruptly, grabbing Wu Zhu’s head and forcing the other to look up at him.
“You idiot.”
Wen Jianyan’s voice was hoarse, a fire burning in his eyes.
He looked at the other’s innocent and bewildered golden eyes and gritted his teeth.
“…You scored too high!”
Unlike in other instances, the fragment of Wu Zhu was hidden very deep in the Yuying Comprehensive University instance—not only did it have a proxy, but it also fit perfectly into the rules of the instance itself.
If the instance hadn’t undergone a mutation and been pushed to the third school year, Wen Jianyan wouldn’t even have sensed Wu Zhu’s presence.
Therefore, whether before or after entering the instance, the Nightmare system had never issued an order for him to clear the bug.
—Until now.
Evidently, this excessively abnormal high score had attracted unwanted attention for them.
Wen Jianyan was exasperated.
“Can’t you learn from yourself?”
The main body was both powerful and cunning. Not only had it escaped the Ouroboros’s restraint under his very nose, but it had even quickly found a way to avoid the Nightmare’s notice—even Wen Jianyan had to admit that the other was a fearsome and terrifying opponent.
The fragment blinked, looking at him innocently.
“…”
Wen Jianyan narrowed his eyes, looking back at the other.
His eyes, which had just been gentle and fervent, had now become cold and rational again.
Should I take this opportunity to complete the mission?
Wu Zhu’s main body had already become powerful. This fragment was dispensable. Perhaps he could even offer it as a pledge of allegiance to the Nightmare system—
Wen Jianyan lowered his eyes, his gaze wavering for a moment.
The other’s chest was pale and firm, but at his heart, there was a deep, hideous scar.
He sighed.
Dammit.
Wen Jianyan pulled his hand back, his voice turning cold and ruthless. “You’re useless now. Get lost.”
“?” Wu Zhu tilted its head, looking at him, seeming not to understand.
“You’re already awake and unrestrained,” Wen Jianyan said patiently. “Go find your main body.”
Unlike in the other instances, the Wu Zhu in this instance was not heavily tied to the main storyline and was not so greatly restrained—but it was also strong enough to completely ignore the threat that Wen Jianyan, a mere human, could pose. And at the beginning of this instance, the Nightmare had not issued a mission, so even if he failed the mission this time, the punishment would not be as severe as last time.
Wu Zhu looked at him, not moving.
“Don’t think I don’t know,” Wen Jianyan said with a blank expression. “You can understand me.”
A fragment of Wu Zhu was, after all, still Wu Zhu.
Seemingly innocent but actually very cunning, it would pretend not to understand commands it didn’t want to follow.
Wu Zhu still didn’t move.
Wen Jianyan: “…”
He let out a long sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. He suddenly raised his hand and pulled Wu Zhu over again.
“After you merge with the main body, your memories will be shared—if you still remember by then, come find me.”
“Be good.”
Wen Jianyan was very close to him, his hot breath falling on the other’s lips, his voice becoming sticky, gentle, and slightly hoarse.
“and I’ll give you a reward.”
The darkness had not yet completely dissipated, but the cold aura was already gone.
Above, a distorted voice came from the loudspeaker:
“The third round of free choice has ended. Rating: SSS.”
“Congratulations to the candidate for completing the graduation thesis. You will leave the examination hall after a sixty-second countdown. Please be prepared.”
In the ‘Integrity First ‘ live stream room, the signal was restored.
[!!!]
[Ahhh! The signal is back, ahhh!]
[*** it, it’s already over, ahhh, I **** your mother, Nightmare***!!!]
(System prompt: Please mind your language. Overly aggressive bullet comments will be regulated by the live stream room.)
[Wait, did I hear that right just now? What was the anchor’s score for the third round?]
[Is this a score a human can get?? How good was the dance to get this score?? Ahhh, I’m going crazy, I want to see it, I want to see it, I want to see it, ahhh!]
The bullet comments in the live stream room were either cursing the Nightmare system or going crazy over the missing five minutes. The live stream’s activity level shot up, a complete chaotic mess.
Just then, the darkness finally began to recede.
Without the cover of darkness, the cold pillars of light from above fell once more, illuminating the vast dance studio.
The motionless mannequins had disappeared at some point, leaving only the empty classroom. The only difference from before was that the mirrors on all four walls were completely shattered. The broken mirror surfaces reflected a faint light under the lamps, looking bizarre and grotesque.
“…”
The bullet comments suddenly went quiet for a moment.
On the screen, the young man’s clothes were in disarray as he scrambled to get dressed.
The time just now was clearly not enough for him to tidy himself up.
The buttons on his shirt were done wrong, the hem long on one side and short on the other, barely covering the finger marks on his waist. The open collar revealed a glimpse of sweat-dampened skin, glistening under the light.
His pants were loose, lacking the support of a belt, just barely hanging on his waist. A hint of a strange, golden-glowing pattern could be seen on his skin, disappearing into the messy fabric.
Wen Jianyan held up his pants with one hand and scooped up his belt from the floor with the other. While fastening it, he used his bare toes to reach for his shoes and socks, which were askew on the side.
It was a complete mess, taking care of one thing meant neglecting another.
Not to mention the pathological flush on his cheekbones and the tips of his ears, and his chest heaving violently. He really looked…
Very much like an aftermath.
In the “Integrity First” live room::
[…]
[…………]
[Damn.]
[It’s probably not my dirty mind, the anchor really does look like… right?]
[But, less than ten minutes have passed. That shouldn’t be possible, right?]
[Maybe the anchor just escaped some mortal peril… yes, that must be it, right?]
[…………Ahhh, I’m sorry, I have sinned, I repent!!]
Wen Jianyan was completely unaware of the audience’s frenzy, nor did he care.
He fastened his belt, quickly unbuttoned his shirt, and re-buttoned it.
Suddenly, he seemed to notice something, and his movements paused slightly.
Through the thin fabric soaked with sweat, he saw a circle of blood-red marks seeping through from underneath on his right arm.
“…”
Wen Jianyan’s gaze lingered on it for a second, then he quickly looked away and continued his actions.
After a few rounds of unconvincing speculation, the audience immediately went crazy again, and this time, they were even crazier than a few minutes ago.
[What, exactly, happened, just now… please, I really, must know.]
[Why did the anchor look like he had been flipped over and ****ed several times in just a few minutes!!! I will not die in peace if I don’t see the answer!!!]
[Ahhhhhhhhh, I’m going crazy! God, just kill me! If I can’t see the third dance, I’m really going to die, ahhh!!!]
Outside the live stream.
Wen Jianyan tidied his clothes at top speed. Before the countdown ended, he finally managed to put on his shoes and socks properly. The top button of his shirt was fastened. Apart from his face still being a little flushed and a lingering trace of lustrous desire in his eyes, the rest of him was no different from before the exam started.
The countdown was reaching its end.
“6, 5, 4—”
Wen Jianyan looked up, adjusted his collar, and took a deep breath.
“—2, 1.”
The moment the countdown ended, Wen Jianyan’s vision blurred. In the next second, the bright overhead lights, the spacious classroom, the shattered mirror fragments—everything vanished like an illusion, replaced by the cold classroom office and rows of empty desks.
Only at this moment did Wen Jianyan’s constantly suspended heart finally settle. He let out a slight sigh of relief, knowing that he had finally escaped.
He lowered his head and casually adjusted his sleeve.
Suddenly, a familiar, cold voice sounded in his ear:
[Your mission to clear the bug has failed.]
As expected, the Nightmare system had come to hold him accountable.
However, Wen Jianyan was long prepared for this.
“There was nothing I could do,” he pulled at the corner of his mouth in a fake smile. “You didn’t inform me at the beginning of this instance that his fragment was here, which caused me to encounter him completely unprepared. I’m lucky to be alive. How could I have had the chance to complete the mission?”
Wen Jianyan skillfully turned the tables.
[…]
“You don’t really think I could have completed the mission under those circumstances, do you?”
Wen Jianyan lied without changing his expression.
“Of course, it’s not that I didn’t try. I just didn’t succeed.”
[…]
However, Wen Jianyan also deeply understood the principle of giving a sweet date after a slap. He quickly began to pledge his loyalty to the Nightmare system:
“I promise, if I encounter his fragment again in this instance—if the fragment is still in this instance—I will definitely try my best to complete the mission and live up to your expectations. How about that?”
As he spoke, he straightened his cuffs, not forgetting to take the opportunity to sneak in a few sarcastic remarks:
“However, it would be great if you could give me a heads-up in the next instance. At least my success rate could—”
Suddenly, something under his fingertip moved.
Under the fabric, a small black tentacle had wrapped itself back around his wrist at some point, rubbing against Wen Jianyan’s finger.
“…?!”
Wen Jianyan was scared out of his wits.
He abruptly applied force, pressing down hard on the tentacle on his wrist.
Dammit, why didn’t you leave with the rest?
And you just had to appear when I was pledging my loyalty to the Nightmare… If I get caught now, I’m finished!!!
The treacherous human, while secretly holding down his accomplice, finished his sentence drily:
“…could be much higher.”
Wen Jianyan’s heart was in his throat, but the cold voice did not appear again.
In its place was the system’s business-like broadcast.
“After calculation, your total graduation thesis score is S, making you a candidate for outstanding graduate. You will give a speech at the graduation ceremony at the end of the fourth school year. Please be prepared.”
“…”
Wen Jianyan knew he had escaped and let out a sigh of relief in his heart.
—Even though he knew that if Wu Zhu dared to leave this little thing behind, it must be because it could evade the Nightmare’s detection, he still couldn’t help but be terrified before seeing it for himself.
He vindictively squeezed the small tentacle wrapped around his wrist.
The tentacle let out a weak “squeak.”
As if afraid of bringing more trouble upon itself, it obediently wrapped itself back around Wen Jianyan’s wrist and quietly stayed still.
However…
Recalling what he had just heard, Wen Jianyan’s eyes flickered.
Graduation ceremony?
This was the first time Wen Jianyan knew that there would be a “graduation ceremony” at the end of the fourth school year—he didn’t think that if he had only gotten an ordinary B or A for his graduation thesis, he would have become an outstanding graduate and received this news from the system.
It seemed that the excessively high score Wu Zhu had given him had caused him to stumble upon a hidden path.
A foolish act had actually led to an unexpected result. This was something Wen Jianyan hadn’t expected.
