Yuying University
Chapter 450: You bastard!
“Still not coming out?”
Footsteps echoed down the long, dim corridor, drawing closer and closer to the stairwell.
“If you won’t come out on your own and make me come find you… you’ll have to bear the consequences.”
Tap.
The footsteps stopped.
Overhead, the dim, faintly red light flickered, spilling across the pale, cold face of the supervising teacher. His eyes shifted, slowly turning toward the stairwell.
Inside the narrow stairwell, the iron gate was tightly shut, everything appearing perfectly normal.
Inside and out, it was completely empty—as if everything that had just happened was nothing but an illusion.
“…”
Behind him, members of the basketball club caught up.
“Teacher, did you catch him?”
One of the members stopped in place, suddenly taking a deep breath and saying, “No mistake—it’s him.”
He spoke with absolute certainty. “The one who tripped us up on the basketball court and made us lose the match was here.”
Yes—the one who had bitten someone’s head earlier had been standing here just moments ago. The cursed aura he carried still lingered in the stairwell, yet to disperse.
“He was here?” The club members seemed puzzled. “If he was here, why didn’t we catch him?”
The layout here was simple—there should have been nowhere to run.
Suddenly, a few of the members seemed to realize something. They all lifted their eyes together, gazing past the shut iron gate.
Above the tightly sealed gate was a staircase leading into darkness, and beyond that was the second floor of the administration building—the student council’s territory.
“…He went upstairs?”
“How’s that possible? The door’s locked—how did he get the key?”
One of the members suddenly froze.
“Wait—don’t tell me the student council—”
“Enough.”
The supervising teacher suddenly spoke, cutting them off.
He turned his head, his cold gaze sweeping over the members in front of him. Every member he looked at shivered, fear flashing across their faces, and they instantly fell silent.
“I don’t want to hear any more baseless speculation without proof.”
He took one last deep look toward the depths of the stairwell.
Then he turned around and said, “As for today’s matter… I’ll contact the student council myself and get to the bottom of it.”
Second Floor.
Wen Jianyan stood in the stairwell, his back pressed tightly against the wall.
Cold sweat had soaked through his shirt, clinging to his skin as a chilling dampness seeped in.
Only when he heard the footsteps below gradually fade did he finally let out the breath he’d been holding in his chest.
They were gone.
[Integrity First] Live Room:
“Ahhhh… that was nerve-wracking! My heart almost jumped out of my chest.”
“Same here! The anchor was literally seconds away from getting caught—damn, I couldn’t even breathe.”
“Good thing he’s quick-witted. Barely dodged that one—thank god.”
But contrary to what the viewers expected, Wen Jianyan didn’t head downstairs. Instead, he remained where he was, eyes lowered in thought.
In the “Integrity First” Live Room:
[?]
[Is the anchor waiting for something?]
[Maybe he’s worried those club members are lying in wait downstairs?]
Wen Jianyan braced one hand on the railing, leaning slightly to peer down.
Through the gap between the stairs and the banister, he could see the area outside the iron gate—completely empty. The members who had been standing there earlier were gone.
Straightening up, he withdrew his gaze.
Just as he’d suspected, most of the rules in this instance worked both ways—even some of the obstacles did.
Even if the first-floor club members and the supervising teacher were NPCs, without a key to the second floor, they naturally couldn’t pursue him.
That was certainly a huge advantage for Wen Jianyan.
For him, now was the perfect time to slip away.
All he had to do was go downstairs, open the door, and blend in with the other new club recruits—he’d be in the clear.
But…
Wen Jianyan stared into the darkness before him, his gaze flickering with thought.
Slowly, he drew back the foot he had been about to place on the stairs and retreated, step by step, back to the second floor.
In the “Integrity First” Live Room:
[?]
[??]
[Wait—why is he going back upstairs??]
[No idea… what’s he planning?]
The viewers’ confusion didn’t affect Wen Jianyan.
He looked around carefully.
After his last trip to the administration building, he was already quite familiar with the layout.
Above this staircase was the principal’s office and the vice principal’s office. If he exited the stairwell and turned left, it was only a short walk to the admissions office.
Wen Jianyan placed one hand on the wall, cautiously leaning half his body out to look into the corridor.
The second floor looked much the same as he remembered—narrow hallway, dim lighting.
But the moment he poked his head out, his heartbeat faltered.
Every single office light was on.
Yes—every one.
While the first-floor club offices also glowed with faint red light, the second-floor student council offices burned with an even deeper, bloodier hue, staining the floor of the corridor in a shocking crimson glow.
Not only the teachers’ offices were lit—every student council office in the distance blazed with light.
“…”
The corridor was deathly silent; Wen Jianyan could almost hear the rush of his own blood in his ears.
In the “Integrity First” Live Room:
[Good lord?? Everyone’s here?]
[Working late at night, huh? NPCs in this instance are seriously overachievers!]
[Lmao!]
[Anchor, just leave, I’ll tip you points—this is hell mode, don’t get yourself killed!]
Wen Jianyan drew back, leaning against the wall.
After several deep breaths, he pulled a dry bun from his pocket. It had been with him for two days now—hard as a rock.
Fortunately, as a special item, it would dehydrate but not spoil.
Biting off a chunk with his molars, Wen Jianyan tilted his head back and swallowed it with a pained grimace.
Immediately, he could see the San value he had worked so hard to restore start to plummet. That familiar dizziness and chill swept over him once more.
It hurt his heart to waste it, but he didn’t stop.
After forcing down the last bite, Wen Jianyan swayed on his feet, hastily bracing against the wall to steady himself.
He glanced up at the top right corner of his vision.
His San value had dropped to around 20.
Not as low as when he’d tricked the teacher earlier, but close enough—and this time he was in the shell of a faceless man, so theoretically it should still work.
It was dangerous, yes—but Wen Jianyan had survived worse.
Knock knock knock.
A polite, evenly paced knocking broke the suffocating silence.
Inside an office lit with bloody light, the teachers all looked up toward the door.
At this hour—who could it be?
Pale faces turned to one another, but none knew the answer.
One teacher rose and opened the door.
Standing outside was a student in appearance, but with the same cold aura—a faceless man.
“From a club?” the teacher asked.
“Yes, hello, teacher.”
The faceless man’s manner was polite and faultless.
“How did you get up here?”
The teacher’s pale, expressionless face and emotionless eyes carried a crushing pressure.
The figure seemed startled, shrinking back a step.
“O-our supervising teacher brought me up,” he said.
“He asked me to come and ask why you were obstructing our club’s recruitment on the first day of the new school year. In the past, we could overlook it, but this time is such a crucial—”
“What?” The student council’s supervising teacher’s brow furrowed sharply. “Obstructing?”
They had no idea about any recruitment obstruction.
“Where’s your supervising teacher?” the teacher asked coldly.
Leaving aside the accusation—which they’d never even heard of—entering the second floor without permission was already an intolerable offense.
“Our teacher went to report the matter to the vice principal—”
The faceless man hadn’t finished speaking before being shoved aside. He stumbled back several steps, clearing the way.
Just beyond the office was the stairwell connecting all three floors.
Normally, the two iron gates remained shut. But now, both stood wide open—allowing a direct path from the first floor to the second, and from the second to the third.
And above was the vice principal’s office.
At this, the teacher’s expression turned grim and ugly.
“…What?”
Behind him, the other teachers also realized the severity of the situation. They rose from their seats and came over.
The teacher at the door recounted what had happened word for word.
The already icy atmosphere in the office dropped further, becoming almost suffocating.
“Their club dares to report to the vice principal?”
“Do they even know what they are?”
“Come on—let’s take a look upstairs.”
Faces dark, the teachers left the office together.
The faceless man stepped quickly aside in fear.
One of the teachers glanced at him, a flicker of regret crossing his eyes.
If time weren’t so urgent and the student hadn’t moved away so quickly, just his earlier tone alone would’ve been enough reason to eat him on the spot.
Shame.
He withdrew his gaze and followed the others toward the third floor of the administration building.
Their figures slowly disappeared into the darkness.
Wen Jianyan swayed slightly.
Even though he still appeared as a faceless man, the live stream viewers could see just how pale his face had become.
Perhaps because his San value had dropped too quickly, a wave of urgent, almost suffocating dread had just surged through him—like he was about to plunge into an abyss at any second—making him hastily retreat.
Still shaken, Wen Jianyan looked toward the direction where the teachers had vanished.
Thank heavens, in the end he had still been lucky enough to escape unscathed.
Wen Jianyan let out a long breath. A tide-like wave of exhaustion surged over him — now that his SAN value had dropped, the nerves he had been forcing himself to keep taut finally began to recover. The façade of calm competence he had just been wearing was completely stripped away.
He slumped against the wall, his head knocking back with a small thunk.
Back in the stairwell just now, he had indeed been planning to leave early.
But before making his move, Wen Jianyan suddenly remembered the last thing the basketball club’s faculty advisor had said before leaving:
“I’ll go contact the student council and get this matter cleared up.”
The moment those words came to mind, Wen Jianyan realized something terrifying.
Once the club and the student council clarified the misunderstanding, both the obstruction of the club’s recruitment and the victory in the basketball game would be pinned on the “anchor.” And the student council knew exactly which anchors had “infiltrated” the administration building.
They would be located with precision.
More importantly, from his earlier deductions based on the Weasel and the situation he had just observed at the recruitment fair, he could draw a very grim conclusion:
Ordinary members in a club sat at the very bottom of the food chain, and the upper echelons of the club held significant control over them.
And they had just joined a club.
It was like sheep walking into a tiger’s den.
Realizing this made Wen Jianyan’s back go cold and his palms break out in a thin layer of sweat.
That was why he decided to take a desperate gamble.
Otherwise… only an idiot would risk his life by going up to the NPC-filled second floor to provoke them!
Wen Jianyan lifted his head and glanced toward the third floor.
The best move now was to damage the trust between the two sides.
However, since Wen Jianyan had no idea how the two parties communicated, he couldn’t target them precisely — only crudely sow discord.
And clearly, his guess was correct.
First, for some unknown reason, to the NPCs in this instance, it really was a “special period” right now.
Second, in a instance with such a rigid class hierarchy, there was no more effective way to cloud one side’s judgment than to invoke the authority of a higher class.
If it worked, the basic trust would be shaken, existing tensions would be amplified, and even the simplest conversations would carry seeds of suspicion.
That way, even if the danger couldn’t be eliminated immediately, it would at least give them a chance to clear the instance.
But either way, it was still best to get far away from this place of trouble.
Wen Jianyan rested against the wall for over ten seconds. His condition hadn’t improved much, but at least he’d caught his breath.
He braced one hand against the wall and forced himself upright.
His gaze swept into the office — and then froze.
In the corner on a desk, the little red head of something stuck out.
From afar… it looked awfully familiar.
!!!
Wen Jianyan’s pupils contracted.
Wait — wasn’t that the lucky doll he’d dropped on the second floor of the administration building earlier?!
It had been confiscated into the teacher’s office!
Now Wen Jianyan was in a bind.
He glanced at the silent, empty hallway outside, then at the pitch-dark teacher’s office with the lucky doll inside, his expression tangled.
Should he just run now, or…
His eyes were involuntarily drawn to the item that had once been his.
Finally, he steeled himself and clenched his teeth.
Forget it, grab it and run!
After scanning his surroundings and confirming there was no danger, Wen Jianyan darted into the office, snatched the lucky doll off the desk—
“Ring ring ring!”
In the deathly silence of the office, the sound erupted without warning.
The sudden noise startled Wen Jianyan so badly he almost tripped over his own feet and fell flat on his face.
!!!
Clutching the doll, he turned in fright toward the source of the sound.
In the corner of a desk lay a very inconspicuous black landline phone — at a glance, it could easily be mistaken for a meaningless decoration.
But at this moment, that “decoration” was ringing loudly.
In just a few seconds, Wen Jianyan’s heartbeat almost shot up to one-eighty.
Damn!
Scared the life out of him!
Fortunately, it wasn’t a teacher returning — just a phone call. Otherwise, as a “thief,” he would really be facing punishment.
Still, it was best to leave quickly. If the ringing continued, it would attract more people, whether teachers or student council members…
“…”
Wen Jianyan suddenly stopped.
Something had occurred to him. He slowly turned toward the still-ringing phone, his expression thoughtful.
In the “Integrity First” Live Room:
[?]
[Wait, what are you doing!]
[Don’t tell me you’re going to do what I think you’re going to do!]
As if to confirm the chat’s suspicion, Wen Jianyan stopped in his tracks, turned, and walked straight toward the ringing phone.
“Ring ring ring—”
The shrill ringing continued, but the next second it abruptly stopped.
Long fingers pinched the receiver and lifted it.
The teacher wasn’t in the office.
But the caller didn’t know that.
Otherwise, this call wouldn’t have been made.
So who would know the number to the landline yet be unaware of the teacher’s whereabouts?
The answer was obvious.
Wen Jianyan held the receiver to his cheek and waited calmly.
Through the black handset, after a brief crackle of static, a slightly distorted but very familiar voice sounded:
“Hello? Is this the student council’s teacher?”
“There are some matters we need to discuss.”
Hearing the voice, Wen Jianyan’s heart instantly eased. He covered the mouthpiece with one hand and silently let out a long breath.
He’d guessed right.
In the blood-red light of the office, the faceless young man stood before the empty desk, receiver to his ear, occasionally giving brief, cold, and mechanical responses:
“Mm.”
“Mm.”
Dozens of seconds later, the voice on the other end finished its “complaint.”
Wen Jianyan finally spoke.
Somehow, his voice carried a cold, rigid quality, perfectly imitating the speech patterns of the instance’s NPCs.
“I understand your concerns, but we will not accept such slander. If you still have questions, you can come to the vice-principal’s office to find us.”
Leaving that cold, noncommittal remark, he hung up before the other side could reply.
In the “Integrity First” Live Room:
[…]
Once the phone was down, Wen Jianyan’s cold demeanor vanished. He glanced around furtively, then bolted for the door.
But just as he was about to step out, angry, heavy footsteps echoed from the stairwell outside.
! Wen Jianyan quickly ducked back inside.
The footsteps outside were heavy and tinged with suppressed fury. They didn’t stop on the second floor but continued straight up to the third.
In the “Integrity First” Live Room:
[…]
[Well, now the two NPC factions really are meeting at the vice-principal’s office… How does he do this?]
[Isn’t he worried the vice-principal might actually get them to reconcile?]
[Unlikely. From my experience with this instance, the grudges between them run deep. Even if they keep up appearances in front of the vice-principal, the hidden daggers won’t disappear.]
[Besides, didn’t you notice what he did earlier?]
[Huh? What?]
[When he opened the door to the third floor, he first went up and carefully checked the stairwell to make sure there was no light under the vice-principal’s office door before proceeding.]
[…]
[Now, with both sides meeting there, his earlier lie to the second-floor teacher gets covered, too. There’s a slight time gap, but both groups are headed to the same place.]
[Damn, the guy’s a lying genius.]
Listening to the footsteps fade, Wen Jianyan leaned against the wall and exhaled in relief.
This phone call had been an unexpected windfall.
He’d only planned to stir up a small conflict, but this call had boosted his plan’s effect to another level.
He carefully pushed the door open and peered outside.
No one was there.
He hurried out of the office.
But just as he was about to head downstairs, he hesitated.
Glancing toward the brightly lit student council office in the distance, his eyes narrowed. The pale irises hid in the shadow of his lashes, glinting faintly.
He could leave now, sure… but letting such a perfect chance to fan the flames slip by felt like a waste.
In the “Integrity First” Live Room:
[I think he’s about to cause trouble.]
[I think he’s about to cause trouble.]
[He’s DEFINITELY about to cause trouble!!!]
BANG!
The office door was kicked open.
In the blood-red light, the student council members turned in unison to look at the doorway.
The youth in a student’s uniform stood there, his concealed face marking him as a club member.
“First you blocked our recruitment and tried to trip us up in secret, and now you’re running to tattle to the advisor?”
Wen Jianyan arrogantly repeated the insult a club member had shouted in the meeting earlier:
“You dog bastard!”
