(3/10)
Yuying University
Chapter 441: Freshman Guidance Desk
Yuying Comprehensive University Campus.
The dark sky loomed over the campus. Only the dim streetlights flickered on both sides of the road. Through the tightly shut school gate, they could see the once-empty square outside, now sparsely filled with people — a rough count revealed at least a hundred.
Although they were not far apart, they couldn’t hear a single sound from the other side, as if an invisible wall separated them.
A mechanical system voice floated through the air:
“Ding. Clearance conditions have changed. Please check your identity card information in time.”
Upon hearing this, everyone immediately looked down and opened their devices.
Wen Jianyan did the same.
Somehow, the content on their identity cards had already changed.
[Identity Card]
Name: Wen Jianyan
Age: 19
Occupation: Second-year student at Yuying Comprehensive University
Related Plot: You have successfully completed your first year at Yuying Comprehensive University. During this time, you were diligent in your studies, actively participated in school activities, obeyed school rules, and made like-minded friends. You were successfully promoted to the second year and are full of hope for your future university life. You are determined to gain recognition from teachers and classmates and become an outstanding graduate of the university…
[This instance does not require allocation of survival time.]
[Clearance Condition: Obtain a graduation certificate from Yuying Comprehensive University]
Everyone froze upon seeing this.
“Wait a second,” Wei Cheng frowned deeply, unease rising in his heart. “Get a graduation certificate from Yuying University?? Don’t tell me…”
Everyone present felt the same ominous premonition.
In the real world, graduating from a university takes four years.
And they had just entered their second year.
Surely the instance wasn’t going to make them go all the way to the fourth year, right?!
That would be absurdly long!
“So what?” Orange Candy didn’t seem too concerned. “First year took only a week, second year just three days. At that rate, the following years will likely be even shorter — at most five days total. No need to panic.”
“That’s not something we need to worry about just yet.”
This time, Hugo spoke, raising his eyes to look at the sky.
“Let’s keep listening.”
The cold, emotionless mechanical voice continued:
“Please complete your academic promotion within three days, or your live stream will be permanently terminated.”
Compared to the previous A-level instance’s loose and generous clearance conditions, this time, it was almost an undisguised death threat.
Now, they finally understood why the “freshman” label on the identity card of the Swamp instance hadn’t turned into “second-year student” like theirs — it was waiting for them here.
However, for Wen Jianyan and the others, the next three days would be anything but smooth sailing.
The “promote or die” rule applied to all anchors in this instance. So if they couldn’t find a way to advance to the third year within the next three days, they would be eliminated too.
“…Damn, this instance is really nasty,” muttered Tian Ye.
The system continued:
“Due to the increased difficulty of this instance, limited support will be provided to anchors based on their performance over the past few days. You will be assigned a rating and granted a specific amount of safe time. Please use it wisely.”
They exchanged glances.
Well, that was good news.
In SS-level instances, most regular items would be nerfed or rendered completely ineffective. This meant safe time obtained through items would be pitifully short — even interrupted mid-use. But the system-granted safe time was different.
Nightmare might be cruel, but at least it didn’t cheat on this kind of thing.
“Once you promote, your SAN value and HP will partially recover. However, value checks will also become more stringent. Please monitor your numbers closely.”
“Your student profile and ID have been updated. Please check immediately.”
“Finally, we wish you a smooth school year and academic success!”
After delivering this overly cheerful “blessing,” the system’s voice faded away.
Silence returned.
At this moment, every anchor’s device clock recalibrated itself to the same time:
8:50 p.m.
If memory served, that was the exact time they were first thrown into the Yuying Comprehensive University instance.
“…The student profile and ID were updated?” Orange Candy blinked, catching that key detail in the system’s announcement.
“Hold on.”
Wen Jianyan lowered his head and dug into his bag, pulling out his student handbook.
He flipped it open.
He raised his head and exhaled slowly, “It’s back to the unabridged version.”
Just as he suspected.
Somehow, even previously existing sections that had seemed restricted were now restored — as if the informational barriers had been lifted.
But based on his experience, that wasn’t necessarily a good thing.
“…Hey, check this out.”
Wei Cheng raised his student ID and showed them the contents.
Still titled Yuying Comprehensive University at the top, with no photo.
Name, gender, and student number were all clearly listed.
Previously, everything else had been blurred. But this time, a new line had been added at the bottom:
Dorm Address: Student Dormitory Zone 2.
“Our dorm address changed?” Tian Ye leaned in, reading carefully with a surprised look.
“Seems so,” Wei Cheng put the ID away.
That wasn’t unusual. In real universities, students sometimes changed dorms when moving up a grade.
The problem was — where was Dormitory Zone 2?
Wen Jianyan opened his student handbook again and flipped to the campus map.
His eyes landed on a corner.
He pointed: “Here.”
So it hadn’t been his imagination.
The original four dorm buildings had become six. The two new ones were likely the so-called “Student Dormitory Zone 2.”
“Wow, not just new areas opening up, even old ones are expanding,” Orange Candy tilted her head, looking thoughtful.
It seemed the jump from A to SS difficulty wasn’t just for show.
“Let’s go check out the new dorms,” she said, hopping down from a flowerbed, casually turning her back to the school gate.
Whatever the new freshman class might go through now — they’d already been through it once. There wasn’t much to gain from sticking around.
More importantly, appearing before the newly arrived anchors now…
Was a good way to become a target.
Everyone nodded, preparing to leave.
But just then, footsteps echoed from the darkness nearby.
Startled, they immediately went on full alert, eyes snapping toward the source of the sound.
At the far end of the dimly lit path, three shadowy figures slowly approached — stepping into view under the streetlight.
One teacher, two students.
Just like when they arrived.
All three had pale faces and blank expressions. The teacher led in front, while the two student council members followed, carrying thick student handbooks and registration forms.
The only difference was—
The teacher in the lead was dressed in a red dress and red heels, wearing bright red lipstick and nail polish. The color was so garish and vivid that it seemed sticky, as though they could smell the metallic scent of blood wafting off it.
“…”
They exchanged shocked glances.
They hadn’t expected that the teacher registering the new students would be the same one who had sat in the Promotion Office earlier.
Wen Jianyan looked thoughtful.
So she was originally responsible for both admissions and promotions. But in the toned-down A-level version, those routes had been sealed by the fake handbook. Now that the promotion path was reopened, she naturally resumed her role.
While he was thinking, the three newcomers had already approached.
Having learned from the incident in the admin building, everyone tensed up instantly.
Su Cheng even reached out to pull Wen Jianyan back.
Clearly, he was aware of just how good Wen Jianyan was at drawing aggro from NPCs.
But Wen Jianyan shook his head, “Don’t worry. Nothing will happen.”
9 p.m. was check-in time.
In strict terms, the instance hadn’t officially started yet.
The Yuying Comprehensive University instance had very rigid rules and dual constraints. Under these conditions, it was unlikely the NPCs would attack them now.
As time ticked by, the female teacher’s eyes shifted and locked onto Wen Jianyan.
Her expression instantly turned cold.
A chill ran through Wen Jianyan.
He shuddered and instinctively looked up — right into the teacher’s dark, terrifying gaze.
Her unblinking stare made his heart skip a beat.
“…Good evening, teacher?” he said hesitantly.
But the woman’s expression didn’t soften.
If anything, she looked more displeased.
Wen Jianyan: “…”
He was completely baffled.
Didn’t she deal with Hugo and the others before? Why was he taking all the hate now?
Inside the “Integrity First” live stream chatroom:
[?]
[Eh? What’s going on? Why did the NPC aggro onto the anchor again?]
[Isn’t it obvious? She used to chill in her office doing nothing. Now this guy shows up, and she’s gotta go back to work. Who else would she hate?]
[LOL.]
[HAHAHAHAHAHAH makes perfect sense.]
Still, just as Wen Jianyan predicted, although the woman glared at him like she wanted him dead, she didn’t stop walking.
She passed by them with the two student council members in tow.
Soon, the clack of high heels faded into the distance.
Only the blood-red silhouette remained — like a scar in the darkness, vanishing toward the school gate.
At exactly nine o’clock, the school gates swung open with a loud clang, signaling the official arrival of new players and the start of the second academic year.
The moment the time struck nine, Wen Jianyan felt a wave of warmth sweep over him. He instinctively looked up and to the right.
Under his gaze, the two nearly depleted bars—health and sanity—began to slowly rise. The fatigue, pain, and the hallucinations and auditory delusions that should have returned, as well as his frayed nerves, rapidly began to ease.
The upward trend gradually slowed, finally stopping at two not-so-low numbers:
HP: 71
San: 63
Inside the “Integrity First” live stream chatroom:
[? Whoa, fifty points recovered in one go?]
[Damn, Nightmare’s being this generous? I can’t even get used to it.]
[In the past, your status wasn’t even reset after promotion—I used to rage about it. But now it looks like Nightmare can act human once in a while. Not bad.]
Of course, more viewers expressed disappointment and discontent:
[Fifty points all at once? Wow, since when did Nightmare become a charity?]
[Some anchors didn’t even lose fifty points… this is basically a full reset. What’s the difference? Nightmare, can you not go soft? This instance was finally getting good. Speechless.]
[Come on, give us some chaos already!]
Wen Jianyan didn’t expect that he’d actually make it out of a near-death state before the instance’s safety period ended, with his stats barely returning to normal.
He lowered his head. The tense heart he’d been carrying finally dropped back into his chest, and he let out a long breath of relief.
…Thank God.
After nearly ten hours, he finally felt alive again.
The others visibly relaxed as well.
In the distance, some of the “freshmen” had completed their registration and were walking onto campus.
“It’s time to go,” said Wei Cheng.
He had been with Orange Candy the longest and was also a top-tier PvPer. He knew exactly how far human malice could be amplified inside an instance.
For most seasoned anchors, when entering a newly opened, harder-level instance, they’d want to find someone to get intel from—how they obtained it depended on how low they were willing to stoop.
Even if they were confident in winning, starting conflict with the main group under these circumstances was still unwise.
Everyone nodded and turned, heading toward the “Apartment Block Zone 2” marked on the map.
Though it was labeled Zone 2, it actually wasn’t far from their original dorm buildings.
The dark campus stood still. Four dorm buildings had already been vacated. The former “soon-to-be sophomores” had all moved out, and the four gray structures stood silently in the distance, awaiting new freshmen to move in.
Behind those buildings, about fifty meters away, was a low wall.
Crooked metal sheets were nailed to it, with faded letters that read:
[Student Apartments – Zone 2]
The rusted iron gate stood wide open. Behind it were two solitary buildings.
Several of the rooms already had lights on—it looked like someone had already moved in.
“Tsk, tsk. Never thought moving up a grade would come with new dorms,” Orange Candy swung her braids and chuckled mockingly, “What a sweet deal.”
They started walking forward.
But before they’d gone far, Wen Jianyan suddenly caught a flicker of movement in his peripheral vision.
He paused and turned his head.
A female student was walking toward the dorm zone from the direction of the classroom buildings. Just from the back, something about her seemed familiar.
Wen Jianyan stood still, staring thoughtfully at the figure.
His gaze followed her direction, slowly scanning into the distance.
On the faraway dirt wall, there was a crooked banner hanging, the large characters dusty and faded—it wasn’t clear how long it had been there.
[Welcome ██ Year Freshmen]
“……” Wen Jianyan was stunned.
From behind, Orange Candy’s impatient voice rang out:
“Hey, why are you zoning out? Let’s go!”
Wen Jianyan turned back around.
His face was still pale due to the incomplete recovery of his stats.
He pressed his lips together and forced what could be called a reserved little smile.
In the dark, his light-colored eyes shimmered with a strange, eerie glow.
Anyone familiar with him would’ve probably shivered on the spot.
This guy… looks like he’s up to something again.
“I have an idea,” Wen Jianyan said.
Everyone: “?”
Wen Jianyan looked a bit shy. “But I might need your cooperation.”
Everyone else: “??”
Su Cheng and Yun Bilan: “…………”
They had a very bad feeling of déjà vu.
Inside the “Integrity First” live stream chatroom:
[……]
[……This brat just recovered a bit and already he’s scheming again, isn’t he!!]
[A walking disaster, I swear!]
“Hey.”
A cold voice rang out from behind.
The female student paused and turned in the direction of the voice.
Out of the darkness strode a tall man. His face was expressionless, but he carried an odd kind of oppressive presence. He frowned, as if about to reach into his pocket for something—but stopped himself.
The girl’s gaze dropped to his right arm.
There, even in the dark, was a conspicuous armband.
“Student Council?”
A flicker of panic crossed the girl’s face.
“Yes,” Hugo said after a short pause.
“What’s the Student Council doing interfering in club affairs?” The girl’s expression darkened. “You guys never stuck your noses in before.”
Hugo replied stiffly: “That was then.”
His tone was a little awkward, but his overly authoritative face made it hard to see any cracks in the act.
The girl’s expression grew darker.
She opened her mouth, about to argue, when her gaze shifted—and she noticed several unmoving figures standing silently in the darkness nearby.
“……”
She clenched her jaw, glaring daggers at Hugo, then spat out a warning:
“You’d better have the teachers’ approval for this, or else…”
With that, she turned and stormed off in the direction she came from.
After she was gone, Hugo finally relaxed slightly.
He reached into his pocket and lit a cigarette—not a special ability manifestation, just an ordinary one.
The unmoving shadows behind him walked over.
It was Wen Jianyan and the others.
“Whoa. Can’t believe that actually worked!”
Orange Candy widened her eyes in disbelief.
“Of course it did.” Wen Jianyan grinned.
Just as he had predicted, Yuying Comprehensive University had a strict hierarchy.
Different identities implied different levels of danger—the highest being the principal and vice principal, followed by teachers, then the Student Council, and finally the student clubs.
Even the building layout in the administration block reflected this structure.
Wen Jianyan remembered that when they were still freshmen and bumped into a club member downstairs, just the mention of the Student Council changed her entire demeanor.
So even though club members were technically instance NPCs, their status and power were far inferior to Student Council members—perhaps even hostile toward them.
And based on intel from “Weasel” and how the club members performed in the instance, they were likely only marginally better than regular students.
But this was a real Student Council armband—even teachers could be fooled, let alone a low-level NPC.
Even though their sanity wasn’t low enough yet, they had info-blocking items to make up for that.
There was practically no chance the bluff would fail.
Wen Jianyan patted Hugo’s shoulder and said with a grin:
“See? Told you you could do it.”
Hugo: “……”
He gave Wen Jianyan a deadpan look and said nothing.
Maybe remembering how he had once been tricked too, Hugo didn’t look particularly pleased.
Wen Jianyan didn’t care:
“All right then.”
He stretched his shoulders with a satisfying crack, raised his arms high, eyes sparkling with mischief, practically itching for more:
“Now it’s my turn.”
Just ten minutes past nine.
After surviving the first half of the crisis, some anchors had finished registration and cautiously entered the campus.
Like the group before them, they noticed the bizarre “enrollment time” and chose not to explore the campus at night. Instead, they headed toward the dorm area before curfew.
Following the map in the freshman handbook, the small team walked toward the student apartments.
In the dark, several low dorm buildings appeared ahead of them.
They exchanged wary glances.
This was an SS-rank instance—who knew what horrors awaited them? That’s why they were being so careful, avoiding reckless moves.
“Captain, look!”
Suddenly, one of them pointed ahead.
The others followed his finger.
Under the pitch-black sky, a low dirt wall came into view.
A grimy banner hung across it, with a small desk underneath.
A pale-faced, eerily quiet young man sat behind the desk.
In front of him was a modest-sized sign that read:
[Freshman Guidance Desk]
