Yuying University
Chapter 412:
Not far ahead, a low, dark-red building came into view. The sign above read “■■ Supermarket,” the words dim and blurry.
Below was a tightly shut glass door, covered in dust and foggy grime, making it impossible to see what was inside.
Wei Cheng supported Wen Jianyan by the arm, hesitating a little.
“Should we leave him outside?”
Su Cheng turned his head, his slightly long hair tied loosely at the back. His dark eyes flickered as he spoke:
“I agree.”
Wen Jianyan was injured and unfit to enter an unknown area. Bringing him along could also cause unnecessary distractions or risks during their exploration.
Yun Bilan said calmly, “I’ll stay with him.”
Her voice was steady, as if she had made this decision long ago. But Su Cheng, as the Prophet, obviously couldn’t leave the team as easily.
“……”
Hugo paused and turned toward Wen Jianyan.
The young man’s arms hung limply over the shoulders of his two teammates. His head drooped low, brows tightly furrowed, eyes shut, his pale forehead damp with sweat. Beneath his slightly open shirt, bandages and faint bloodstains were visible.
“No. It’s best if we all go in together,” he said.
If the difficulty of this instance was low, then leaving the injured outside while the others went in for a quick sweep would clearly be the best choice.
But if they chose to bring the injured along anyway…
It meant they were preparing for the worst.
After all, the injury wasn’t the main issue—Wen Jianyan’s SAN value was dangerously low, making him a bright target. And they couldn’t be certain that the area outside the supermarket was safe—or free from danger.
Once the team was split, their strength would be greatly reduced. If something happened in that state, it would be extremely difficult to handle.
Orange Candy glanced at Hugo thoughtfully and said, “Fine. Let’s all go in together.”
As the team leader, her word was final. The others said nothing more.
They headed toward the supermarket.
Su Cheng took the lead without hesitation, reaching out to push open the door.
The rusty hinges groaned faintly as the door creaked inward. A broken, crackling mechanical voice played:
“Welcome.”
A cold, strange, sweet-smelling air rushed out to meet them.
The supermarket was dark. Though it was broad daylight outside, very little light seemed to enter here. In the shadows, rows of shelves could barely be made out.
The shelves were stocked with goods, but it was impossible to see what exactly.
Behind a foggy glass counter sat a dark, motionless figure. At first glance, it gave a chilling shock.
It was completely still—even as they entered the store, it didn’t move at all. It looked more like a lifeless object than something alive.
At some point, Su Cheng had already put away his tarot cards. He glanced around and said:
“No danger…”
Then added two more words:
“For now.”
Even with the Prophet’s reassurance, the oppressive atmosphere of the supermarket was overwhelming—the kind of unease that soaked the air itself. As veteran anchors, they were all too familiar with this feeling. Even with Su Cheng’s “prophecy” hanging in the air, they instinctively didn’t want to go any deeper.
Especially when they had an injured teammate in tow.
Orange Candy thought for a moment, then said, “Wait here. I’ll check it out.”
“Hey, you—”
Before anyone could stop her, the small girl with bright orange hair skipped forward toward the nearest shelves and vanished from sight in the blink of an eye.
The others could only shut up and wait in place.
The supermarket was eerily quiet—no sound at all.
The air was cold and dark. Only the shadowy figure behind the counter remained unmoving. It hadn’t reacted at all to their entrance, but its presence felt like a thorn lodged in their minds—they couldn’t help but glance at it repeatedly to make sure it was still there.
Then, Orange Candy’s voice called from the distance:
“All clear. You can come in.”
Cautiously, the group made their way deeper into the store.
As they got closer, they could finally see the items on the shelves—bottle after bottle of water lined every row.
Orange Candy emerged from between the shelves and tossed a bottle to Hugo.
“Is it all the same stuff?” Hugo caught the water and glanced at the shelves behind her.
“Yep, no difference,” she replied.
They exchanged looks again.
Su Cheng’s ability had led them here, so the items for sale must be the type that could restore SAN value.
And since the whole supermarket only sold water, at least they didn’t have to worry about picking the wrong item.
“So… what now?” Tian Ye asked nervously. “Do we… go pay for it?”
He snuck a glance toward the counter.
Compared to earlier, the shadow behind the counter hadn’t changed in the slightest—it looked like an immobile mannequin.
Although Su Cheng had said, “No danger for now,” the bizarre atmosphere still made everyone uneasy.
“Probably,” Orange Candy shrugged.
The group carefully approached the counter.
Hugo stepped forward, placed the bottle of water on the counter, and said calmly in a low voice, “Checkout.”
At his words, the shadow in the darkness stirred. Under the tense gazes of the group, it slowly leaned forward.
A face emerged from the dim light.
Its features were flat and blurry, as if crudely molded from clay. The forehead bulged high, the eyes were set far apart, and the pale skin was nearly translucent.
It was clearly human in form, yet it carried an inexplicable, deeply unsettling wrongness.
The supermarket owner stared at Hugo for a moment, then said: “No charge. Take it for free.”
What?
Everyone was stunned.
They had been prepared for the item to be extremely expensive—perhaps costing dozens of credits—but instead, the owner’s reply caught them completely off guard. The water here was free?
“No need,” Su Cheng stepped forward, lowering his gaze, his pitch-black eyes glinting. “We’ll pay.”
Hugo glanced at him but said nothing.
In these instances, free items were often far more dangerous than ones you paid for—they all knew this well. Su Cheng clearly understood something more, which was why he insisted on paying.
“That works too.”
The supermarket owner let out a strange chuckle. He lowered his head and retrieved a rusty little knife from beneath the glass: “First purchase costs only one finger.”
The mood of the room darkened instantly.
Things had swung from one extreme to the other.
Whether free or paid with a finger, neither method involved the usual University credits—it was a completely independent system separate from the instance’s mechanics.
Hugo replied evenly, “Fine.”
His expression remained calm; he didn’t hesitate in the face of such a grim demand.
“Any finger?” He confirmed.
“Any finger,” the owner replied.
Hugo nodded, laid his left hand flat on the glass, picked up the knife with his right hand, and lined it up with his pinky finger.
The slightly dull blade slid neatly into the joint. With a harsh twist and slice downward, the finger was severed.
It was over in the blink of an eye. He didn’t even flinch, as if this sort of thing was routine.
In the “Integrity First” live room barrage:
[Holy crap… sure, Nightmare points can fix this—but only after the instance ends, right?]
[I mean, we all knew Hugo was ruthless, but this? This is next level!]
[Small thing for him. I remember one instance he barely made it out—lost literally half his body.]
[Still, that’s crazy. Most people would hesitate forever before cutting off a finger like that. He looked like he was trimming a nail.]
[Right? I’d have just grabbed the free bottle and gambled.]
[Same… but Su Cheng’s reaction says a lot. He definitely knew the ‘free’ option would lead to something worse. No wonder they’re in the top 10. Any other anchor would’ve frozen, unable to do it—not to mention Hugo did this for the team, not for himself.]
After it was done, Hugo was merely a little pale—no other signs of distress.
He skillfully dressed and bandaged his hand one-handedly, stemming the bleeding.
The smell of iron filled the air. The supermarket owner’s smile widened as he bent down, ready to pick up the severed finger. But just then, his gaze drifted—not toward the bloody digit—but toward Wen Jianyan, still unconscious, head bowed, supported by Wei Cheng and Tian Ye.
The owner’s eyes locked on him.
His pale, flat face shifted. Nostrils flared slightly, mouth opening as if to taste the air, gaze dark and hungry, upper body leaning forward.
Su Cheng wordlessly stepped in front, blocking his view.
Slowly, the owner withdrew his reaching hand, a strange grin curling his lips. “Ah… my mistake. I forgot the real price.”
“What?” Hugo frowned.
“The price of a bottle of water isn’t one finger—it’s a human life,” the owner said.
The air in the supermarket thickened oppressively.
Everyone’s expressions darkened.
Orange Candy’s smile vanished as she slowly repeated: “A life for a bottle of water?”
“Yes,” the owner replied.
In the “Integrity First” live room barrage
[???]
[WHAT? Total scam!!]
[Disgusting, as expected of these creepy instance NPCs.]
[Yeah, they’ve got no concept of fair play.]
[But man… what are the anchors gonna do now?]
Yun Bilan let out a cold laugh, thorny brambles writhing across her pale skin:
“Impossible.”
“Not paying, are you?” the owner said. “Then please… take it for free.”
Their expressions soured.
The owner had clearly decided to force them into taking the free option—even though Hugo had already sacrificed a finger, they were still being made to take the water “for free.” The bitterness of it stuck in their throats, making their jaws clench.
Orange Candy stepped forward, expressionless.
Hugo frowned slightly.
He grabbed the water bottle: “Let’s go.”
Even though he’d lost a finger for nothing, they were forced to take the “free” water after all. Yet Hugo remained rational and calm. He pressed a hand on Orange Candy’s shoulder: “Enough. Let’s move.”
He lowered his voice. “This would violate school rules.”
The supermarket owner’s gaze was still glued to their group. Even though Hugo had picked up the water, indicating he had chosen the “free” option, a look of evident regret appeared on the owner’s face.
“…Please visit again,” he said, his eyes sliding past Su Cheng’s shoulder, locking firmly onto Wen Jianyan. The greed in his gaze was almost tangible, overflowing like a substance into the air.
Wei Cheng and Tian Ye darkened their expressions, taking two deep breaths to suppress their urge to act. Each of them held one of Wen Jianyan’s arms, ready to follow behind Hugo and Orange Candy and leave—but as they moved their first step, they felt a sudden resistance.
The limp arms on their shoulders suddenly tensed, stopping them from moving forward.
“Wait…”
A hoarse, soft, unsteady voice rang out.
“!?”
Everyone froze, glancing down.
It was Wen Jianyan.
No one knew when he had regained consciousness. He weakly lifted his pale, sweat-drenched face, dark hair sticking to his cheek, his gaze unfocused, as if barely clawing back a sliver of clarity from the edge of hallucination.
He pulled his arm off Tian Ye’s shoulder and leaned most of his weight onto Wei Cheng. Wei Cheng, who had just barely recovered from the gym incident, was caught off guard. His footing faltered, almost crushed under the weight of a full-grown man.
“You said… one life, right?” Wen Jianyan, slumped against Wei Cheng, whispered easily with bloodless lips. “Fine.”
The supermarket owner suddenly stepped forward, nostrils flaring:
“…Oh?”
“Since the price is a life, then… anyone’s life will do, right?” Wen Jianyan turned his head, beckoning Hugo.
“You. Come here.”
Hugo paused, his gaze lingering on Wen Jianyan for a moment, then walked forward.
“This will do, won’t it?” Wen Jianyan asked.
The owner’s eyes lowered, flickering over Hugo’s bandaged finger. Then, reluctantly, he turned his attention back to Wen Jianyan—his gaze sliding greedily up and down the youth’s body as though licking him with his eyes—before finally saying unwillingly:
“…No problem.”
“But—”
Wen Jianyan dragged out the word, his voice faint. “On second thought… it feels like such a waste to offer up one of my good friends so easily.”
He panted, seeming exhausted, resting his forehead on Wei Cheng’s shoulder for a moment before raising his head again to look at the owner:
“How about me?”
“!?”
This was an unexpected delight. The owner’s eyes lit up, gleaming brightly in the depths. He lunged forward, bumping the glass counter without even noticing. “Of course!”
“But the price of lives differs.”
“You can see it, can’t you? I’m the backbone of this group, the leader. They all listen to my orders. For someone of my importance to die over a single bottle of water… seems a bit wasteful, right?”
Wen Jianyan looked like he was at the limit of his strength; his face grew paler, sweat dotting his temple.
But he smiled faintly, a harmless glint in his eye.
“How about this… organs instead?”
“I saw you just asked for my friend’s finger, so I guess… organs are universal currency here too, right?”
The owner’s throat bobbed. His eyes didn’t budge.
“Yes.”
Wen Jianyan leaned back slightly, collar loose: “Heart, liver, spleen, lungs, kidneys… take your pick. Which do you want?”
In the “Integrity First” live room barrage:
[?]
[What’s the anchor doing…?]
[No idea…]
The supermarket owner stepped closer again, his sticky, greedy gaze landing on the young man’s exposed chest—circling over the pale, blood-smeared skin, as if trying to peel it open with his eyes and dig around carefully inside.
“I want—”
His words had just left his mouth when Wen Jianyan cut him off.
“Hey? Teacher, did you hear that?” Wen Jianyan leaned weakly against Wei Cheng, face pale, gaze unfocused, looking like he’d pass out at any moment.
But his tone was sweet and polite.
He raised his hand from behind his back, revealing a phone screen—clearly showing an ongoing call.
“Mhm, mhm, that’s right. The little supermarket’s owner here tried to scam us. The goods for sale don’t match the marked price, and after taking payment, he tried to raise the price on the spot.
What? You’re on your way right now? Great, we’ll wait for you.”
In the “Integrity First” live room barrage:
[WTF?!]
[Wait WHAT?!]
[Hold on, I can’t process this—]
[Insane. So he pulled his hand off Tian Ye’s shoulder earlier just to call the counselor??]
[Holy crap, now I get it—he agreed to ‘pay the price of a life’ first to neutralize the owner’s threat, making him think they were willing to pay whatever it took instead of risking the ‘free’ item. At the same time, he dangled what the owner wanted most—his own organs—as bait, to lure him into confirming his previous price… but secretly, he’d already called the counselor and waited for this exact moment.]
[Holy crap… this is genius…]
[He raised the price? So you just called the school to report him? I’m dying, this is such a beautifully real move!]
[That scheming supermarket boss tried to trap them, but ran right into a steel wall instead!]
“……”
The supermarket owner’s face darkened, like water was about to drip from it.
Wen Jianyan ended the call.
Hugo stayed silent but gave him a long look.
This style—lying without blinking, effortlessly steering the situation in their favor…
For some reason, it felt strangely familiar.
His gaze swept across Wen Jianyan’s face, frowning slightly.
Was it just his imagination?
Almost the next moment, the bell behind them chimed—“Ding-ding”—and the mechanical voice of “Welcome” rang out as a familiar figure stepped inside.
It was their advisor and major subject professor, Teacher Zhao.
He glanced around, eyes lingering on Wen Jianyan for quite some time before finally, as if restrained by some invisible rule, slowly shifting his gaze away.
“Student, we’ve received your report. This indeed violates school regulations,” Teacher Zhao said. “We will inform the headmaster, and follow-up action will be taken.”
The supermarket owner’s expression turned fierce, his gaze locked on Wen Jianyan like he wanted to devour him whole. If not for the rules holding him back, he probably would’ve pounced and torn him apart on the spot.
But the moment he heard the words “inform the headmaster,” his expression changed drastically—from dark and ugly to ghastly pale, like he’d just felt an immense terror.
Orange Candy and Hugo both narrowed their eyes.
…the headmaster.
To all the other anchors, “the headmaster of Yuying Comprehensive University” was just a meaningless name—an ordinary background NPC at best. But for them, this name was entirely different.
Because their true purpose wasn’t to simply clear the instance, but to obtain an item hidden inside the headmaster’s office drawer.
And this was the first time they’d clearly heard the “headmaster” mentioned from an instance NPC’s mouth.
Like the tip of an iceberg suddenly breaking the surface, revealing the direction they needed to go.
“You came to buy water, right?” Teacher Zhao’s gaze landed on the bottle in Hugo’s hand.
Hugo: “Yes.”
Teacher Zhao turned to look at the table.
The severed finger still lay in a pool of blood.
“Since you’ve already paid, you may take the water without worry. Also, as compensation for your unfair treatment here, you may each select one item from this shop to take for free.”
“!”
An unexpected boon.
Everyone’s spirits lifted.
They hadn’t forgotten what the supermarket owner said earlier: “The first purchase only costs a finger.” Meaning that for the second or third purchase, the price would no longer be so cheap—possibly even requiring an actual life.
So the more water they stocked now, the more it would help them survive later.
Orange Candy thought for a moment, then looked at Wen Jianyan, tilting her chin. “Hey, what do you want?”
After all, this “compensation” was something Wen Jianyan fought for—naturally, he should decide what it was.
Wen Jianyan was barely standing, his black hair sticking to his pale forehead.
Su Cheng stepped forward to support him.
“When… when the teacher walked in just now… something said ‘Welcome,’ right?” Wen Jianyan rested his forehead on Su Cheng’s shoulder, unable to lift his head. His voice was low and weak. “I want that.”
Teacher Zhao gave him a glance. “That’s fine.”
The supermarket owner’s face was deathly pale as he left the counter, fiddled with something near the door, and soon returned.
He handed over a faded, worn lucky cat figurine—the kind often hung at the entrances of real-world stores, utterly ordinary and common-looking.
Su Cheng accepted it for Wen Jianyan.
“Alright, you may leave now,” Teacher Zhao said. “The school will handle this matter. You students just need to focus on your classes.”
Next to him, the supermarket owner looked utterly hopeless.
“Thank you, teacher,” Wen Jianyan murmured.
Then he lowered his head again, eyes closing once more. The only difference was that he was now drenched in even more sweat, and his breathing was ragged and unstable.
The group hurriedly left the troublesome place, dragging the once again hallucinating and delusional Wen Jianyan with them.
Just before they left the supermarket area, Orange Candy said, “Wait.”
She pulled a floater-like item from her backpack—something that resembled a buoy used at sea—and hid it in the grass near the supermarket’s entrance.
Tian Ye asked, confused, “What’s that for…?”
“It seems there are conditions to finding this supermarket. Without the prophet, we probably wouldn’t have found it at all,” Wei Cheng explained. “Captain did this to make sure that, even if we fail to meet the conditions next time, we can still locate this place.”
He glanced at the faded crimson building in the distance, swallowing his next words.
—Hopefully, they wouldn’t need to come back again.
Strictly speaking, Wei Cheng’s talent bordered on mediumship, and this place made him feel awful. Even staying outside made his whole body uncomfortable, like falling into an icy cave.
Wen Jianyan’s arms hung over Su Cheng and Yun Bilan’s shoulders, his head drooping low. Underneath his sweat-soaked hair was a pale, slender neck, delicate bones jutting sharply beneath the skin—looking inexplicably fragile and pitiful.
His lips moved slightly, letting out faint breaths of sound, as if mumbling something unintelligible.
“Let’s stop here,” Su Cheng checked Wen Jianyan’s forehead and frowned.
Although Wen Jianyan had seemed to “rally” for a brief moment earlier, Su Cheng knew very well that ever since they left the supermarket, Wen Jianyan’s condition hadn’t improved—it had actually worsened. In this state, even though they hadn’t gone far, it was best to let him rest and recover as soon as possible.
The two of them carefully set Wen Jianyan down by the base of a tree, letting him lean against the trunk. Hugo stepped forward and handed over the water. “Here.”
Su Cheng glanced at him. “Thanks.”
He took the bottle, twisted off the cap, and gently pressed it against Wen Jianyan’s bloodless lower lip, carefully pouring some into his mouth.
Nearby, Orange Candy leaned against a tree and waved at Hugo. “Hey.”
Hugo walked over.
“How’s your hand?”
Hugo’s expression was indifferent. “It’s fine.”
As if missing a finger was really no big deal to him.
“Good.” After that token concern, Orange Candy went straight to the point. “So, before we entered this instance, you already knew something, didn’t you?”
She had noticed something was off from Hugo’s behavior.
They weren’t working together for the first time—she knew his personality. Hugo wasn’t the type to strictly follow the rules, so she hadn’t questioned him leaving the team at the start.
But the way he avoided contact with the student council, and his reaction to Su Cheng’s prophecy at the supermarket, all showed a level of caution that wasn’t normal.
Obviously, Hugo knew something they didn’t.
“…” Hugo adjusted the blood-stained bandage on his hand and said meaningfully, “Not everything.”
Orange Candy narrowed her eyes, grinding her teeth fiercely. “…If you keep being cryptic like this, believe me, I’ll make sure you lose a few more fingers.”
Hugo leaned against the tree, fishing inside his pocket with his injured hand. He pulled out a cigarette and stuck it in his mouth.
He lit it awkwardly with one hand because of his injury, while Orange Candy watched coldly, making no move to help.
Amid the rising smoke, Hugo finally cracked open a little and said, “This instance isn’t low difficulty. It’s just that if you don’t break its boundaries, you won’t see the real content.”
He pinched the cigarette between his bloody fingers, thought for a moment, and went on:
“You’d better keep following the normal class schedule. I’ll go push the instance’s limits. Once I find a clue to the principal’s office, I’ll let you know.”
Orange Candy: “……”
That was as good as saying nothing.
“Oh right,” Hugo suddenly turned his gaze toward Wen Jianyan and the others not far away. “Him… how much do you know about him?”
“You’re interested in him?”
Hugo: “A little.”
“Hahahaha!” Orange Candy grinned, swinging her braids. “Not telling you.”
Hugo: “……”
Vengeful little fox.
Suddenly, the sound of a door opening echoed from the distance.
Hugo tensed.
He stubbed out the cigarette and straightened.
Teacher Zhao walked out of the brick-red building. He didn’t glance their way but instead turned and headed in a different direction.
Hugo hadn’t expected this.
Though Zhao had arrived quickly, he was leaving on foot.
“We’ll talk more next time.”
With that, Hugo nodded at Orange Candy and took several large strides, quickly following after the teacher.
Orange Candy knew what he was doing—he was going to tail the teacher and see if he could find the location of the principal’s office. Wen Jianyan’s move had unexpectedly given their mission progress a huge boost.
“Pfft.”
She rolled her eyes in Hugo’s direction and muttered:
“Cryptic bastards deserve to die.”
Lucky for him, he ran fast this time, or she would’ve forced more info out of him.
Orange Candy turned and headed toward Wen Jianyan.
During her conversation with Hugo, he had clearly woken up.
Wen Jianyan sat leaning against the tree, sipping the water in small gulps. His face was still deathly pale, but he seemed to be recovering bit by bit.
Su Cheng squatted next to him, whispering something softly.
Orange Candy’s gaze lingered on him for a moment.
Compared to when Wen Jianyan was unconscious, Su Cheng had returned to his usual harmless self—just like he’d been back at Changsheng Tower and at the start of this instance.
His slightly long hair was tucked behind his ears, a few loose strands falling softly along his gentle face. His dark eyes were filled with obvious concern, and that uncomfortable, oppressive coldness from earlier was gone.
He was once again that warm, even lively Su Cheng.
Orange Candy frowned slightly.
Something felt… off.
Maybe she should ask Wen Jianyan later?
Suddenly, Su Cheng lifted his head and glanced her way.
Those dark eyes flickered for a moment—empty, emotionless—and then quickly lowered again.
“?!”
Orange Candy stiffened in alarm.
Is this… the prophet’s intuition?
Meanwhile, Wen Jianyan was explaining to Tian Ye why he had chosen to take the lucky cat figurine instead of another bottle of water.
“…It’s not a bell. It doesn’t make sound when the door moves.”
He pointed to a small hole on top:
“In the real world, this is an infrared sensor. It detects human body heat and plays the ‘Welcome’ sound whenever it senses someone.”
But that teacher wasn’t human—and didn’t have human body heat.
Yet the figurine still made a sound.
Clearly, this little trinket worked on principles entirely different from modern technology.
“Ah!” Tian Ye’s eyes lit up in realization. “So that’s why!”
If this thing could sense NPCs approaching, then surely it could also detect the approach of other threats.
That was why Wen Jianyan had chosen to take it.
His instincts told him this instance wasn’t going to be simple. In that case, an item that could detect not only humans but also other entities in the instance—and without usage limits—might prove unexpectedly useful for survival later on.
Of course… there was an even more important reason.
The counselor wasn’t entirely trustworthy.
Wen Jianyan lowered his gaze, examining the half-finished bottle of water in his hand, his dark eyes narrowing slightly.
Although the water was supposedly “compensation,” the counselor never actually said, “you don’t have to worry about consequences.” He merely said they could “take it for free.”
But the problem was… the water was always free to take.
It just came with a terrible price.
From the very first day he entered Yuying Comprehensive University, Wen Jianyan had sensed that this was the kind of instance full of hidden traps in its details—and the NPCs here were very skilled at laying those traps, utterly devoid of any moral bottom line.
If not for the mutual restriction of rules, the difficulty of this instance would probably be several times higher.
With that in mind, Wen Jianyan wasn’t about to put his trust in this so-called “Teacher Zhao.”
Especially since the man wasn’t just their counselor—he was also their major course instructor.
That double identity only made Wen Jianyan trust him even less.
“Hey, you okay now?” came Orange Candy’s voice from the side.
Wen Jianyan turned his head and gave her a small smile.
“Much better.”
His face was still pale, and a sheen of sweat clung to his forehead, but his energy was clearly returning.
“How much SAN do you have left?” Orange Candy asked.
“Sixty.”
Wen Jianyan replied.
There was still half a bottle of water left—which meant if he drank the whole thing, he could fully restore his SAN.
But drinking it now, when his SAN had already recovered above 60, would be a waste.
After all, he was basically back to normal; the rest of his SAN could recover slowly over time.
“Keep the rest for yourself,” Orange Candy said carelessly, flipping her braids and hopping onto a nearby rock to sit.
Tian Ye nodded in agreement. “Yeah, bro, I think you’re way more likely to run into danger than us. You should hold onto it.”
Wen Jianyan: “…”
In the “Integrity First” live room barrage:
[Hahahahaha!!]
[Pfft, they accidentally hit the truth right on the head!]
[Yep, all the best truths come out as jokes lol.]
Wen Jianyan’s mouth twitched slightly, but in the end, he accepted his teammates’ goodwill and put the water back into his backpack.
“Where’s Hugo?” he asked after a moment.
“Off doing his own thing,” said Orange Candy.
“Ah!” She suddenly slapped her forehead, eyes wide. “He still hasn’t thanked you, has he?”
“Thanked me?” Wen Jianyan raised a brow.
Orange Candy briefly summarized what happened during gym class and Hugo’s situation. “Basically, he pissed off the student council and broke school rules. You answered in his place and got dragged into danger because of that.”
So Wen Jianyan had, in a way, saved Hugo by risking himself.
Wen Jianyan shook his water bottle. “I think we’re even.”
Orange Candy snorted. “Not even close.”
If Wen Jianyan hadn’t been so quick-witted, they’d all have been screwed back there.
“And besides… I doubt calling the counselor was without cost,” Orange Candy glanced at him, her expression suddenly serious. “You better be careful going forward.”
Wen Jianyan nodded. “Got it.”
“By the way, what exactly happened when you ran into the student council earlier? Tell us?”
Orange Candy leaned forward, very interested.
As she asked, memories of the track field flooded Wen Jianyan’s mind like a rising tide.
The dark space, the blood-red track, the pale student council members, hallucinations, auditory illusions, and then…
Wen Jianyan froze slightly.
Wu Zhu.
“……”
He frowned, absently turning the cold ouroboros ring on his finger.
Was the Wu Zhu that appeared on the track just a hallucination?
Or…
Judging purely by memory, Wen Jianyan wasn’t sure.
His SAN had fallen far too low—right near the threshold—and reality had lost its sense of substance. It was nearly impossible to tell what was real and what was illusion.
He lowered his eyes to hide the flicker of expression in them.
Still… he clearly remembered what “Wu Zhu” had done in that hallucination. Including that last moment…
Absentmindedly, Wen Jianyan licked his lips.
As he realized what he was doing, he froze, his memories suddenly sharpening—the places that had been touched now oddly noticeable.
His palm. His shoulder. His lips. All faintly warm.
His lips seemed to still hold that strange, cold, soft sensation. Blurred within those bizarre, delirious memories caused by low SAN, the feeling seemed distant and unreal—yet also strangely real.
Wen Jianyan frowned deeply, his expression turning unpleasant.
That damned Wu Zhu…
Whether real or hallucination—he was equally annoying.
