Yuying University
Chapter 449: Unless…
The club activity room was spacious, which only made it feel all the more empty.
A faint red glow spilled down from the lights, landing on those blank, featureless faces—an eerie sight to behold.
“……”
Under the “gaze” of the faceless crowd, Wen Jianyan slowly walked inside and took a seat on an empty chair.
No one else spoke.
They seemed to still be waiting.
After Wen Jianyan, more faceless people began to file in one after another.
Wen Jianyan noticed that every faceless person—including himself—was dressed in identical clothing. While it was possible to tell male from female, it was impossible to tell who was who.
Clearly, this was meant to prevent club members from recognizing each other even outside the club.
As time passed, more and more faceless people gathered in the activity room.
Some sat, others stood. Without faces, it was impossible to read their expressions or moods.
Even so, Wen Jianyan could still pick up hints of tension and wariness from their body language.
With that thought, Wen Jianyan glanced toward the door.
It had been three minutes since anyone else had entered.
It looked like all the newcomers invited here had arrived.
As if to confirm his guess, the faceless person who had earlier invited Wen Jianyan to sit slowly rose to his feet. He “looked” around the room and cleared his throat.
“Good evening, students.”
The room was utterly silent.
The faceless man didn’t seem to mind. He continued,
“Welcome to the club recruitment ceremony at Yuying University. You have all been chosen to join us—you are about to become valuable members of our club.”
Someone, unable to hold back, spoke up.
“Wait… club? What exactly is—”
Before he could finish, the faceless man raised a hand.
The other person instantly fell silent.
Wen Jianyan’s eyes narrowed.
He knew that mere “authority” couldn’t have that kind of immediate effect.
It confirmed the suspicion he’d formed earlier when dealing with the Weasel.
Becoming a “club member” clearly meant being subjected to more restrictions as well.
“This club was created for students’ interests and hobbies. Once this meeting is over, you can head outside to the various activity rooms and choose the one you wish to join.”
The faceless man gestured toward the nearby door.
Others might not know, but Wen Jianyan did. He had been to the administration building before and was familiar with its layout—and had already guessed at the hidden “instance” rules here.
The club activity rooms on the first floor corresponded to different compulsory courses. “Choosing a club to join” really meant deciding which compulsory class they would appear in as NPCs.
“Of course, active and outstanding members will be rewarded with club points,” the faceless man went on. “You can see the specific rules posted inside your chosen activity room.”
His tone shifted.
“If, at the end of the school year, your club points fail to meet the standard… naturally, you will face appropriate punishment.”
Though his speed and tone hadn’t changed, the temperature in the room seemed to drop several degrees as he finished speaking.
“Alright, does anyone have questions?”
The faceless man looked at the “new members” before him.
In the audience, as the rules were explained, the other anchors gradually recovered from their earlier shock.
After all, this wasn’t their first time entering an instance. Tonight’s events had been sudden and without warning, but once they calmed down, they quickly pieced together their situation and connected it with details from earlier in the instance.
One anchor looked around, then nervously raised his hand.
Perhaps because it was now the free Q&A session, the faceless man did not stop him this time, but instead nodded for him to speak.
“Uh,” the newcomer swallowed, his voice carrying the same strange distortion as the faceless man’s, making his original tone nearly unrecognizable, “if this is a club, then why was there no one at the recruitment site this time?”
Clearly, he was one of the anchors from the previous round.
In the last round, he hadn’t participated in recruitment, but after the second school year began, he’d returned to the recruitment area—only to find it completely empty.
The faceless man’s expression seemed to darken—if it could be read at all.
“Yes, there was… a small mishap in our recruitment plan this year,” he replied after a pause.
“We had a little misunderstanding with the student council, which caused some changes—”
Wen Jianyan: “…”
His gaze shifted.
“A misunderstanding?”
Beside him, a female-shaped faceless person suddenly gave a cold snort.
Wen Jianyan’s eyes moved toward her.
“I don’t think it was a misunderstanding,” she said coldly. “Those student council dogs—this time, of all times—actually dared to—”
“Enough.”
The faceless man cut her off sharply.
Though she still seemed resentful, she said nothing more.
In the “Integrity First” live room chat:
[Student council: ?]
[Hahahahaha, the student council just sitting in their office and suddenly getting blamed.]
[They’ve been saddled with this one, alright.]
[Didn’t expect that—wasn’t there a club member who said they’d go talk to the student council teacher? And nothing came of it?]
[No idea, maybe communication broke down?]
Wen Jianyan watched the faceless man in the distance, his eyes thoughtful.
Like the chat, he’d noticed something off.
He had assumed his “lie” would be exposed as soon as the club members and the student council teacher spoke. He had even prepared himself to be hunted down afterward.
That was why he hadn’t given the Weasel Hugo’s bed number—not just because Hugo was still stuck in the gym and might not get out soon, but also to avoid him being recognized by club members and attracting danger.
But unexpectedly…
They hadn’t been found out?
And what did “this time, of all times” mean?
Did it refer to this school year? Or…
Wen Jianyan lowered his eyes, thoughts racing.
“Any more questions?”
The faceless man’s voice pulled him from his thoughts.
Wen Jianyan considered, then raised his hand.
“You may speak,” the faceless man said, turning toward him.
“Are the new club members both first-year and second-year students?”
The faceless man stared at him for a moment, then gave a strange laugh.
“Of course.”
Wen Jianyan lowered his hand, his mind settling into place.
No wonder every club member’s identity traits were erased—not just their face, voice, and clothing. It wasn’t only to prevent them from recognizing each other outside the club, but also to prevent internal disputes.
“Alright,” the faceless man said, clapping his hands when no one else spoke. “You may now move freely to your chosen club’s activity room.”
With another clap, the “club members” began filing out the door.
Wen Jianyan followed the crowd into the familiar corridor.
Up ahead was the large main hall and the security office, while the narrow hallway stretched to both sides, each door labeled differently.
“Painting Club Activity Room”, “Literature Club Activity Room”, “Film Club Activity Room”…
This time, each room’s lights were on, casting a faint red glow across the floor like some overly conspicuous marker.
Wen Jianyan turned his head toward the side of the hallway they hadn’t taken last time.
He knew his teammates should also be moving around in faceless form somewhere here, but he didn’t plan to meet up with them yet.
With all personal features erased, gathering to talk would only draw suspicion.
More importantly, the “new members” included not only returning second-year anchors, but also newcomers who had just entered the instance.
Wen Jianyan wasn’t about to make himself a target so soon.
Besides…
He lowered his head and checked his phone.
Most items and communication tools were disabled.
Clearly, this instance was determined to stop club members from recognizing each other.
Exhaling slowly, Wen Jianyan put his phone away and looked up.
After scanning the area, his gaze settled on one activity room.
[Basketball Club Activity Room]
…Basketball Club?
He blinked, then looked farther down the hallway.
[Soccer Club Activity Room], [Badminton Club Activity Room], [Running Club Activity Room]…
Each room corresponded exactly to a sport from their PE class.
It seemed the club activities weren’t limited to electives—even some compulsory courses were included.
Wen Jianyan’s eyes flickered.
So… was the invisible opponent they had faced in basketball class actually a club member?
But before he could reach a conclusion, his eyes landed on the room at the very end of the hall.
[Swimming Club Activity Room]
Unlike the others, this room was completely dark. The door was shut, the sign’s lettering was worn and peeling as if corroded, and the handle was thick with dust.
It was the only room in the entire hall that wasn’t open.
Wen Jianyan frowned slightly, recalling the scene from last school year when he’d nearly been swallowed by the black water in the swimming pool.
—So this was the only sport without any club members?
That was suspicious.
Still, despite his curiosity, Wen Jianyan quickly looked away.
He steadied himself and headed straight for the [Basketball Club Activity Room].
It wasn’t that he didn’t want to investigate the unusual room, but his time was limited.
The dorm manager’s “one hour” warning still rang in his ears.
So rather than wasting effort on a target that might yield nothing, it was better to first figure out the club’s rules.
The basketball he had played with before was the perfect opportunity.
Wen Jianyan stood at the doorway. He didn’t push the door open right away, but cautiously leaned forward, peeking in through the narrow crack.
This activity room was about the same size as the one he had just passed, with a few tables and chairs inside, looking rather shabby.
Through the not-so-wide gap, he could glimpse several faceless people standing inside.
The one surrounded in the middle seemed to be a supervising teacher, while those around him were probably club members.
They appeared to be discussing something.
“…Why… did it fail?”
The supervising teacher’s tone was icy. Although it was hard to catch everything clearly through the door, just a few fragments were enough to piece together the whole sentence: “Do you know… what kind of… price that could cause?”
“…We… weren’t—”
The faceless club members hurriedly tried to defend themselves.
In their urgency, their voices rose slightly, making it possible for Wen Jianyan at the doorway to hear most of what they were saying.
“…We don’t know how they found… completely invisible. Every time we saw it… it was already too late—”
Wen Jianyan lowered his eyes, gradually reconstructing the situation in his mind.
His earlier guess was correct.
The people they had played against on the basketball court earlier were indeed the members of the basketball club.
But on the basketball court, the rules were mutual.
They couldn’t see the figures of the basketball club members, and likewise, the club members couldn’t see them.
The basketball didn’t belong to either side—it was a ghost in slumber.
Since the members also couldn’t see their opponents, in order not to alert them to the match’s special rules, they had acted first. They let the “ghost” inside the ball launch attacks, using that chance to gradually approach the opponent’s basket. Then, when the other side relaxed their guard, they scored from a distance that was guaranteed to go in.
But unexpectedly, that shot was not only blocked—it was stolen.
Thus, offense and defense switched.
Once the other side had the ball, they themselves could no longer “see” it, except when it fell into a certain anchor’s hands and began to awaken.
However, the ghost’s awakening speed was closely tied to the sanity value of the anchor holding it.
So even though Wen Jianyan hadn’t been part of the club at the time, through half-guessing and sheer luck, he had used this rule to hold the other side back and pull off a perfect counterattack.
“No matter what… the result… cannot change.”
The supervising teacher’s voice was frigid.
“But we must avoid…”
“…Don’t worry… although we… we left behind…”
The members seemed eager to prove themselves.
“I’m sure we can…”
The crucial part was too faint for Wen Jianyan to make out, so he unconsciously stepped forward.
“Wait a moment.”
Suddenly, the supervising teacher cut off the faceless person.
He slowly turned his head toward the half-closed door.
“A new member has arrived.”
In an instant, every faceless person turned their head toward the doorway.
Outside the door, there was no sound at all.
“Go take a look,” the supervising teacher ordered.
Orange Candy stood in the hallway.
To the viewers in her livestream room, she still appeared as the petite girl with bright orange hair. But to everyone else, she looked like just another faceless, unremarkable woman.
Still, Orange Candy quite liked this current perspective—
At last, she didn’t have to look up at people anymore. Nice.
For exactly that reason, she wasn’t in a hurry to regroup with her teammates.
Gathering together so quickly would only bring disadvantages, not benefits.
And for Orange Candy, moving alone was perfectly comfortable.
After wandering the hallway for a bit, she soon picked her target.
[Outdoor Activities Club Room]
After all, this semester’s elective course was Outdoor Activities.
Orange Candy pushed the door open and stepped inside.
There were already several faceless people in the room, standing before a table a short distance away, apparently queuing to register.
On the nearby wall hung a large sheet of paper.
It was the familiar pale color, emanating a faint chill. The words written on it were in bright red, looking particularly striking under the dim lights.
Yuying Comprehensive University Student Clubs — Born from Passion!
This club is organized spontaneously by students, and all classmates are welcome to participate enthusiastically!
Below the cheerful slogan were smaller lines of text:
Actively participating in club activities can earn you club badges. Increase your badge count to become a core member and gain more privileges.
Inactive members will have badges deducted.
If your badge count drops to zero, you will be deemed as having participated passively and will ■■■■■■■■.
The last line was unreadable.
Orange Candy’s eyes narrowed.
Inside her livestream room:
[I just realized, these club badges must be the ones the anchor found earlier inside the corpses’ stomachs, right?]
[Yeah, I remember it was something like—kill a student, and you get a badge?]
[Damn, that matches Pinocchio’s earlier theory perfectly.]
[Wow, you’re right—not just the club rules, but even the possible unknown punishments for breaking them all line up.]
[And I thought the anchor had only been chased around by monsters a few times in the instance? Barely even saw any club members’ faces?]
[Pretty much?]
[Well, that’s pretty badass.]
[Nah, it’s the anchor who’s badass—choosing Pinocchio to join was totally sharp thinking.]
Orange Candy turned toward the nearby table.
Sure enough, as she suspected, this was the registration desk.
“Signing up?” the faceless person asked without looking up.
“Mm.”
Under their guidance, she pressed her finger into an inkpad and left a fingerprint on the thick register.
“Here.”
The faceless person rummaged in the desk and handed her a silver, button-sized badge.
Orange Candy took it.
The moment it touched her hand, a wave of cold seeped from it, spreading rapidly through her limbs.
She lowered her head to examine it.
Perhaps because she was now an official club member, the badge looked different from when it had been cut from a monster earlier—its design and text were much clearer.
Leaning closer, she read the words:
Yuying Comprehensive University Club Badge.
In the center was a round, bulging pattern resembling a simplified human face—odd in shape, hard to make out.
She squinted and studied it more carefully.
“Bearer of this badge… vows… unconditionally… to become… nourishment?”
Inside the stairwell.
Wen Jianyan leaned against the wall, panting rapidly.
The moment the supervising teacher had spoken, he realized trouble was coming and fled at once—had he been even a few seconds slower, he would have been caught on the spot.
His heart pounded violently, as if it might burst from his chest. His temples and palms were damp and cold.
From the information he had now…
If he really had been caught just now, things would have gone very badly for him.
It seemed the club very much did not want them to win that basketball game.
He didn’t yet know the exact reason, but he suspected it had something to do with the award the vice principal later gave him.
And it seemed the club wasn’t about to swallow this loss quietly—they were planning some sort of counteraction.
What exactly, Wen Jianyan didn’t know. But judging from what he had overheard, it wouldn’t be easy.
After all, during the entire match, the members couldn’t see people like them—so finding them was the real problem—
Wait.
Wen Jianyan froze.
He rolled up his sleeve.
In the dim light, he saw a dark, greenish bite mark at the base of his thumb. Instead of fading with time, it had only deepened—large patches of that greenish-black color marred the pale skin of his hand, looking especially ominous.
Crap!!!
A surge of intense danger shot up his spine, making his hair stand on end.
Almost at the same moment, measured footsteps sounded from the hallway outside.
Then came a cold, eerie voice:
“Come out. Don’t hide.”
It wasn’t a club member.
On the contrary—it was the one presence in this instance Wen Jianyan feared most, second only to the vice principal.
—The Teacher.
“…”
Wen Jianyan’s back was drenched in cold sweat.
His mind raced, thoughts sparking furiously.
Run?
Could he get away?
No—if he left the stairwell, he would definitely be spotted.
With props disabled and no way to contact teammates, he was alone and vulnerable. Especially here, in the administration building—their home ground. One wrong move and he could end up in a truly terrifying situation.
And the other anchors couldn’t be counted on either.
They had just joined the club, and as newcomers, they’d be fools to offend an NPC. That meant they not only wouldn’t help him—they might even side with the teacher.
Then it wouldn’t be one-on-ten—it’d be one-on-dozens, maybe over a hundred.
Unless—
Wen Jianyan turned his head.
“What’s the matter?”
The supervising teacher’s voice was filled with open malice, echoing through the dim, empty hallway.
“Not going to listen to your teacher?”
Wen Jianyan’s gaze fixed on the tightly locked iron door between the first and second floors. His jaw tightened.
The answer came to him.
—Unless he went upstairs.
The second floor was the Student Council’s territory.
