Thank you @Beverly for the Kofi (1/2)~
Yuying University
Chapter 451: “One More Person”
The first-floor club activity room.
Orange Candy stood with her arms crossed, leaning against the wall, listening absentmindedly to the club member’s explanation not far away.
It wasn’t that she didn’t care — it was just that, even before joining the club, Wen Jianyan had already guessed most of the rules seven or eight tenths correctly. So almost everything being said now was nothing new to her; she was just listening casually to fill in any missing details.
But for the other club members, this was probably the first time they’d ever heard it.
Orange Candy lazily lifted her eyelids and swept her gaze around the activity room.
Although she only had a half-baked understanding of psychology, she had gone through dozens of “instances” before. Judging from the nervous postures of most people here, she guessed they hadn’t expected that—
The real rule of the club… was killing people.
The internal ranking within the club was directly tied to the number of badges a member had.
And the only way to obtain a badge… was to kill.
She withdrew her gaze.
Lowering her eyes, she examined the silver badge in her palm, about the size of a button.
The badge was cold — not just the material’s coldness, but a strange, penetrating chill, the kind that seeped into you even if you were just holding it.
This wasn’t the one given to her by the club organizer during registration; it was the one she had taken earlier from a corpse in the cafeteria.
Although the source was different, after completing the membership registration, the surface of this badge had also become clear, revealing a faintly discernible, eerie human face and still-blurry writing.
It seemed that whether one could see the writing and pattern on the badge had nothing to do with the badge itself, but was related to the observer’s identity.
The smooth surface reflected the dim reddish light from above, exuding a strange aura.
She didn’t yet know what the writing truly meant, but even so, Orange Candy could sense one thing clearly—
It was definitely not something good.
In the distance, the club member continued explaining.
His voice was dry and emotionless, with a mechanical quality more like a machine than a human, the kind that made you sleepy just listening.
“…For the sake of everyone’s normal school life, you must make sure to keep at least one badge on you—”
Before he could finish, the sudden noise from outside the door interrupted him.
Orange Candy looked up toward the source of the sound, her palm turning so she could quickly pocket the badge.
It sounded like someone was running wildly through the hallway.
Amid the messy, overlapping footsteps were faint voices, too far away to make out clearly, but the naked hostility in them was impossible to miss.
“?”
Orange Candy tilted her head in puzzlement.
…Huh? Was this part of the club’s normal recruitment process?
Wen Jianyan hadn’t mentioned this.
The member explaining the rules also seemed to hear the commotion. He stopped speaking and stepped toward the activity room door, apparently intending to check outside.
But before he could reach for the handle, the door was suddenly shoved open from the outside.
A faceless person rushed in.
“It’s—It’s the Student Council—”
The Student Council?!
At the mention of this not-unfamiliar term, everyone tensed — but clearly for different reasons.
The newcomers were tense from nervousness; the others were tense from hostility.
“Move.”
The organizer said coldly and walked toward the doorway.
Some club members stayed behind out of caution, but the more experienced — and braver — ones followed him after briefly observing the situation.
Orange Candy was clearly among the latter.
In fact, the moment the door swung open, she had already straightened up with interest.
When the organizer left, she followed right behind him without hesitation.
How could she possibly miss something this interesting?
But the moment she stepped into the hallway, she realized… things were not normal.
The overhead lights flickered, casting an eerie glow over everything below.
In the hallway stood not just club members but also Student Council members wearing armbands. Doors on both sides of the corridor were opening as more club members, drawn by the noise, stepped out from their rooms.
The already cold air grew colder, biting and heavy with an ominous presence.
The atmosphere was tense to the extreme, like standing at the edge of a cliff, ready to break at the slightest push.
Up ahead, the Student Council and club members were arguing about something, but Orange Candy couldn’t hear from this distance.
She instinctively took a step closer.
The next moment, everything changed.
One Student Council member’s face suddenly twisted. His pale, stiff features warped, his mouth opening wide — the corners splitting at an inhuman angle — and lunged forward…
Biting down directly on the club member’s head!
“…!”
Orange Candy froze mid-step.
It happened too fast. Behind her, the newly recruited anchors gasped audibly.
Her gaze stayed locked on the scene, her eyes flickering.
She remembered — on the last day of the previous school year, on the second floor of the administration building — she had almost been eaten in exactly this way by the vice principal.
So it wasn’t just NPCs feeding on anchors… they could feed on each other, too?
The moment the bite landed, the club member’s body went limp, collapsing like a rag doll. His skin tone changed, and strange black fluid began seeping from under his clothes.
It was wet, sticky — not like a human body at all, but like some lifeless object.
The Student Council member’s throat moved as he swallowed. In just seconds, the club member’s body vanished into that black-hole-like mouth.
And with that, the already high tensions exploded.
Club members surged out of the rooms. Their faceless heads betrayed no emotion, but black slime seeped from them, staining the pale surface with shifting, blot-like patterns, like Rorschach inkblots.
The situation had escalated far beyond anything the anchors could intervene in. Even Orange Candy had to step back quickly to avoid getting caught in the chaos.
She retreated while scanning the area, searching for something.
She’d heard about the tensions between the Student Council and the clubs from Wen Jianyan — and had even fanned the flames herself — so the sight didn’t surprise her.
What surprised her was how far things had gone without anyone stepping in to stop it.
Where were the supervising teachers?
If they weren’t here, did that mean—
Just then, she felt someone yank her backward.
“!!!”
A shiver shot up from the point of contact, and she whipped her head around like a cat with its fur standing on end, ready to lash out.
A faceless person stood there, gripping her shoulder.
Orange Candy’s expression darkened; she was about to teach them a lesson when footsteps sounded from the stairwell.
The teachers she’d been looking for finally appeared.
The administration building wasn’t large — only three floors — so the commotion from the first floor had easily reached the top, drawing their attention.
“What’s going on here?”
The teacher’s voice wasn’t loud, but in the chaos, it carried a chilling authority that made everyone’s heart tighten.
In an instant, all eyes turned toward the stairwell.
“Stop it,” another teacher said coldly.
In just seconds, the nearly out-of-control scene was subdued. The boiling hostility cooled instantly; Student Council and club members both stepped back, keeping their distance. The air was thick with cold, but no one made another move.
The hall fell silent.
But the matter was far from over.
The two groups of teachers descended the stairs, approaching their respective students.
From a distance, Orange Candy caught snatches of conversation:
“…What happened?”
“It was their side…”
The exchange ended quickly, but she sensed the teachers’ interaction carried an even heavier, more dangerous undercurrent than the students’.
“One of our students lost control,” a Student Council teacher said first. “I’ll discipline them later.”
The other teacher’s gaze lingered on the black fluid on the floor. “As for your club’s loss just now, we’ll try to make it up to you.”
The faceless club members’ tension only grew.
“However, your students aren’t completely blameless either. Given the current special circumstances, I think there’s no need for us to attack each other over small matters — and certainly no need to escalate this to the vice principal. Don’t you agree?”
“…Of course.”
The club’s supervising teacher’s face looked pale and cold under the lights, but he still nodded.
After the brief exchange, the Student Council teacher’s smile vanished. He turned to his group and barked: “Go.”
They left quickly, disappearing into the stairwell.
Orange Candy tilted her head, watching them go, her expression thoughtful.
That exchange… was interesting.
But now that the Student Council was gone, this sudden, inexplicable fight should also end just as abruptly.
She started to turn back toward the activity room to resume the earlier business, but before she could take a step—
“Wait.”
Orange Candy stopped and looked back.
The club’s supervising teacher stood there, the flickering light above casting eerie shadows on his face.
He scanned the group, his gaze landing on one faceless person.
“Go to the security office and borrow their sign-in log.”
The faceless person froze briefly, then nodded. “Yes.”
They turned and left down the hall.
“?”
Orange Candy didn’t understand.
Then the teacher raised his eyes again, speaking in the same cold, emotionless tone:
“Each club leader — bring me the registration book you just used for sign-ups.”
The newly recruited anchors didn’t know what was going on or what they should do, so they stood awkwardly in place, silent.
Soon, both groups returned.
The faceless person from the security office brought back a thick registration log. The other club leaders handed over their own registration books, placing them all before the teacher.
Without a word, the teacher lowered his head and began flipping through them.
The hallway was utterly silent except for the faint rustle of turning pages.
Time dragged on unbearably.
Finally, the teacher looked up. Holding the security log in one hand, he bared a chilling smile — teeth white and sharp — as his gaze swept over the faceless crowd.
“As I thought… there’s one extra handprint.”
The number of names in the security log was one more than the total in the clubs’ own records.
Which meant—
Someone unknown had slipped in.
“Line up,” the teacher said, still smiling. “Until we find out who the extra person is… no one leaves.”
