WTNL Chapter 512

Yuying University
Chapter 512: Graduation Ceremony 3

It was frighteningly quiet.

The tightly shut back door of the gymnasium blocked the outside light, while the heavy curtains blocked the bright lights from the stage. Even the sound of the vice-principal’s speech was isolated.

The air was thick, as if it had stopped flowing.

“…”

Mason stood in place, his face—half-charred, half-ghastly pale—hidden in the darkness.

He lowered his head and looked at Wen Jianyan’s corpse.

The young man’s cold body lay on the ground. His fair profile was submerged in darkness, and his slender neck was twisted at a grotesque angle, long devoid of life.

Mason raised a hand and pressed his left eye. His eyeball instantly turned a strange, deep green. [Copied Talent: Dead Man’s Eye (2/3), Remaining Uses: 1]

In his altered vision, the other’s body was a patch of gray-white.

He was indeed dead.

After all, when he had just killed him, Mason had also used a talent—one specifically meant for killing.

This way, even if the other person had an item like a scapegoat doll, it couldn’t block a death blow dealt with no mercy and under the suppression of a talent.

Only after confirming that the other was thoroughly dead did Mason slowly exhale. He was startled to realize that a layer of cold sweat had unknowingly beaded on his back.

That’s right. The other had correctly guessed both his talent type and the way to activate it.

Mason’s talent was [Copy].

However, this copying was not without limits. Not only was the effect halved, but it also had only three uses. Moreover, until his three copied uses were depleted, the original owner’s talent would be unusable.

Therefore, those whose talents he had [Copied] were often already dead.

Relying on such an exceptional talent, Mason had overcome all obstacles, leaving countless anchors’ corpses—drained of their residual value—in his wake, finally securing a spot in the Nightmare’s top ten.

He had thought this time would be as smooth as before.

After all, this [Pinocchio] was just a newcomer who had recently risen through the ranks.

He had no experience, lacked resources, and had no protection from a major guild. Young and naive, yet possessing such a rare talent… he was like an unarmed child, unknowingly sitting on an untapped gold mine.

How could he be blamed for his greed? An innocent man gets into trouble because of his wealth.

It was precisely because of this that when this supposedly non-threatening person easily saw through his intentions and even guessed his trump card, Mason couldn’t resist making a move.

It wasn’t so much that he couldn’t control his killing intent… as it was an instinctive reaction born from extreme shock.

Since entering the Nightmare, he had encountered countless dangers and challenges, even falling into near-death situations multiple times, but… this was the first time he had felt the terror of being completely seen through.

He was clearly just a anchor of average strength with almost no PvP combat ability.

Mason unconsciously rubbed his fingers, the pads of which still seemed to retain the warmth and sensation of snapping the other’s neck.

Now that he had calmed down, he felt a bit regretful.

He had been too impulsive.

It was a real pity.

Not to mention that causality-type talents were one in a million, and it was uncertain when another would appear. More importantly, he was still in the SS-rank instance, [Yuying Comprehensive University], and the other’s talent happened to be able to influence the instance’s final outcome.

Now that Pinocchio was dead, he could only find another way.

Fortunately, Mason knew exactly what to do.

He took a step forward, crouched in front of the corpse, and fumbled around, searching for the diploma.

Found it.

Mason paused, pulling a stiff piece of cardstock from the other’s jacket pocket.

This must be the diplo—

The moment the card was flipped over, Mason’s pupils suddenly shrank.

The paper was blank, with four letters neatly written in the center:

[MUTE]

An item?!

This was a PvP-specific item from the system store, the Fermata. Touching it for five seconds would render the user unable to use their talent for three minutes.

However, it required the target to make contact voluntarily, and the duration was too short. The number of times each anchor could use their talent in an instance was already pitifully low, making a three-minute restriction almost meaningless. Furthermore, even with their talent disabled, the opponent could still protect themselves with items, so it rarely had a practical use in combat.

In short, it was very useless.

But the problem was, only living anchors could redeem items. After an anchor died, their redeemed items would also disappear. Could it be—

“Crick, crack.”

The sound of bones grinding came from the nearby darkness.

Mason snapped his head up, his ferocious face unable to hide his astonishment.

He saw the lifeless corpse in front of him slowly get up from the ground. It pressed one hand against its twisted neck and gently rotated it.

With a “crack,” the cervical bone snapped back into place.

“Hiss, you really don’t hold back,” he complained.

“Impossible—!”

For the first time, Mason’s expression changed dramatically. He stared in disbelief at the young man not far away, his voice high and strained. “You were already dead—”

The young man sat in the darkness, flexing his stiff neck, and said, “I was.”

He lifted his eyelids and looked over, his eyes black and empty, a mysterious smile playing on his lips. “So, how can you kill a dead man a second time?”

In the “Integrity First” live room barrage:

 [Ahhhh!]

 [Ahhhhhhhhh!!!]

 [As expected of the club president, student council member, and part-time college advisor! A triple-identity bug creating an instance anomaly! Who could possibly kill him!]

Wen Jianyan suddenly turned his head, his gaze shifting to the side. A smile was on his lips, and his voice was still light, devoid of any killing intent. “My dear club members, as your president, I command you—
kill him.”

Suddenly, the hair on the back of Mason’s neck stood on end. All around him, pale faces twisted, and pairs of chilling eyes fell upon him. The formless killing intent surged!

Not good!!

Mason struggled to hold on, fighting against the simultaneous attacks of several dozen club members, but he was collapsing like a landslide.

He was at his wit’s end. Even when he could use his talents, dealing with so many NPCs was difficult. Now, unable to even use the items he had copied, he could only retreat again and again.

—He did it on purpose.

Mason’s eyes were practically splitting with rage.

He finally saw the whole picture.

The other had deliberately provoked him into action.

As a high-level anchor, Mason naturally had ways to kill monsters. However, when acting impulsively, people rarely think too much. When faced with a “living person,” he would subconsciously use the method for killing an anchor, not treat him as a monster.

And before that, the other had deliberately mentioned the ‘diploma’ in conversation, all to lure him into searching his ‘corpse’ and voluntarily touching the item.

Mason with his talent was at his strongest because he could use not only his own talent but also the talents of all the anchors he had copied.

Once his talent was disabled and he was left with only items, it was no different from having his arms and legs cut off!

Fending off the attacks of dozens of NPCs—especially NPCs in the final stage of the instance, made extraordinarily terrifying by the rules’ buffs—with just these items was an impossible fantasy!

“Ha, haha, hahahaha!” Mason looked crazed. He whipped his head around, glared at Wen Jianyan, and burst out laughing. “You think you’re so smart, don’t you? Don’t forget, I still hold your life in my hands! Xiao Qi’s bomb is still on your neck. Do you think his talent can only kill living people? Even as a monster, you’ll still die!”

“Make your ghost minions stop, or I’ll blow you to pieces—”

“Xiao Qi?”

Not far away, the young man stood still with a strange expression.

He tapped his forehead and suddenly looked as if he’d just realized something. “Cheng Qi, right?”

Wen Jianyan lowered his head, pulled a blood-red slip of paper from his sleeve, and read, “Name: Cheng Qi, Student ID: 190012?”

“…”

In an instant, Mason froze. He subconsciously turned his head to look at the empty space to the side.

In the darkness, the spot where Cheng Qi should have been was empty.

The young man’s neck was fair and smooth, the spot where the bomb had been was blank. And on his fingers hanging by his side, the five nails were a dripping red, as if blood was about to trickle down from them at any moment.

Wen Jianyan slowly put the diploma back into his pocket, raised his eyes to Mason’s demonic face, and said with a smile, “I don’t think you two will have the chance to meet again.”

In the “Integrity First” live room barrage:

 [?]

 [???]

 [Wait? What happened?! I can’t keep up, where did he go? How did he disappear??]

 [I went and watched the replay… holy crap, holy crap, holy crap!!!]

 [???]

 [Didn’t the anchor stumble before going behind the curtain? Look at his hand in the shot! He swiped Cheng Qi’s student ID from his pocket!!!]

 [Oh my god, ahhhhh! It’s true!!]

 [And then, look here. After Mason lowered the curtain and proposed a partnership, the anchor sat in the shadows beneath it. He specifically chose that spot. Look at his right hand, hidden in the darkness!]

In a blind spot invisible to anyone, the young man maintained a relaxed posture while carefully and cautiously filling out the [Diploma], stroke by stroke.

Name.
Student ID.
Issuer.

However, when it came to writing the word ‘Qualified,’ he deliberately left one stroke unfinished.

The vice-principal appeared and went on stage to speak.

Wen Jianyan stood up, slipped the diploma into his sleeve, and began suggesting to Mason that they go outside the gym to find the club members.

After returning to the gym with the club members, Wen Jianyan began to provoke Mason.

Under the cover of darkness, while Mason was agitated by his words, he used his blood-stained fingertip to gently complete the final stroke of ‘Qualified.’

At the moment his throat was snapped by Mason, the terrifying side effects of issuing the diploma activated simultaneously.

Wen Jianyan collapsed to the ground.

It was a nearly inescapable triple deathtrap.

The first layer came from Mason. He had the ability to kill Wen Jianyan, so Wen Jianyan provoked him, exploited his lack of understanding of his own state, and switched the concept, making Mason kill him as one would a living person, allowing him to survive as an anomaly.

The second layer still came from Mason. His talent was too terrifying; no one knew how many anchors’ talents he had copied or how many trump cards he held. It wasn’t that Wen Jianyan hadn’t tried to kill him—the fire in the library had been terrifying enough, yet it had still failed. Therefore, Wen Jianyan lured him into searching his body for the diploma, temporarily sealing his talent, and then had the instance’s NPCs attack him.

The final deathtrap came from Cheng Qi’s bomb.

Since it had been planted in his body from the very beginning, it was even more inescapable. Mason wouldn’t give him a chance to turn Cheng Qi, and once a real fight broke out, it was a trump card the other would surely use.

So, Wen Jianyan decided to send him out of the instance.

With the talent’s owner having already cleared the instance, how could the dangerous seed he left behind possibly remain effective?

Every gear meshed perfectly, with flawless precision. Every one of the opponent’s reactions seemed to have been anticipated and exploited, and every timing was perfectly executed. This wasn’t a conspiracy; it was a work of art.

In the “Integrity First” live room barrage:

 […]

 […]

 [Holy crap, holy crap, holy crap.]

 [I’m literally speechless, ahhhhh, you son of a bitch, you were plotting and scheming from that far back? Ahhhh, holy shit, that’s so freaking awesome!!!]

 [Ahhhhhhh, Wen Jianyan is a beast! I declare you the god of mind games in my heart!!]

A minute can be long or short.

The thick stench of blood filled the air, and the agents of slaughter danced in the atmosphere.

This was the final stage of the altered, SS-rank instance.
There were twenty-five NPCs.
And Mason had no talent to protect him.

The outcome was almost certain.

Soon, the sounds ceased.

The club members’ pale, greedy faces were still stained with wet blood. They turned their heads in the darkness and stared fixedly at their president.

Before them, only bones, a pool of blood, and shredded flesh remained.

Not even a complete body was left.

Not far away, the young president looked at them, a smile appearing on his equally pale face:
“You did very well.”
“Let’s go. It’s time for us to attend the ceremony.”

---

In Mason’s livestream room.

As the signal cut off, a line of cold, hard text slowly appeared on the dark screen:

[Livestream closing…]

The viewers in his livestream room stared blankly at the screen. They had been ready to celebrate a victory, but the situation had taken a sharp turn. Before they could even react, everything was over.

In the core hall of the Nightmare Live Stream platform, on the high honor roll, a name slowly turned black.

Although death was common here.

But, the fall of a top-ten anchor was a sudden earthquake for both the anchor community and the viewers.

Some viewers couldn’t believe it.
[I don’t believe it… how could this happen…]
[Impossible, the other anchor must have cheated! I’m reporting him!]

Some viewers erupted in curses.
Loyal fans cursed Wen Jianyan, while less loyal fans cursed the anchor himself.

Most of the overly inflammatory comments were censored. Only a few milder ones got through:

 [The anchor next door ** is dead. Let’s go, bros, who’s coming with me to raid his channel?]

 [Let’s go, flame him to death!]

 [Isn’t he top ten? How did he die so quickly? What a disgrace. I even donated so many points to him… ffs, give me my money back!!!]

 [I followed his stream to see how he snatched and copied other anchors’ talents, and it just ends like this? What a loser, I’m out.]

But regardless of the viewers’ reactions, the number of online viewers in Mason’s livestream room began to plummet, from tens of thousands to thousands, then to hundreds, and soon only a few dozen people remained.

In the Nightmare Live Stream, death was commonplace.

Viewers would get angry, happy, or excited, but once the thrill dissipated, they would quickly seek out the next bit of fun, the next anchor to follow.

Finally, those last few dozen people also left.

The number of online viewers dropped to zero.

On the screen, the cold text remained:
[Livestream closing…]

---

Wen Jianyan led the club members backstage.

The moment he parted the curtain, the vice-principal’s loud voice and the bright lights of the gymnasium rushed toward him like a tidal wave, as if it were a completely different world from the dead silence behind the curtain.

Backstage was empty. Red velvet drapes hung from both sides, enveloping the entire area in a crimson hue.

Not far away, the vice-principal’s back was visible on the stage.

His speech seemed to be reaching its end.

“…I have seen everyone’s performance over these four years, and it is precisely because of everyone’s hard work that our school is finally able to hold this graduation ceremony! Next, I will move with this year’s outstanding graduate to commend the qualified students of our school!”

Wen Jianyan heard the vice-principal’s voice rise, exclaiming in a passionate tone:

 “Let’s welcome the outstanding graduate to the stage!”

“!!”

Hearing this, Wen Jianyan’s heart skipped a beat.

Beside him, the club members who had just been obediently following his orders slowly turned their heads, their black, hollow eyes fixing on him. In their depths was the coldness and fanaticism that Wen Jianyan knew so well.

Everyone of them knew—exactly who this so-called “outstanding graduate” was.

There was no other candidate.

“…”

Under the weight of those gazes, Wen Jianyan’s palms grew slick with cold sweat.

He took a slow, deep breath and started walking, step by step, toward the stage.

Through the hanging curtain, Wen Jianyan could vaguely make out the glaring lights of the stage, the blurred figures of the anchors in their rows of chairs, and the cold stares of the student council members further away.

As the distance shortened, everything pressed down on him like mountains and seas.

In comparison, his figure seemed so small.

Wen Jianyan stepped onto the stage, his foot landing slowly but firmly.

He knew… everything that happened next would depend on his choice. The lives of everyone at the graduation ceremony hung by a thread, and the other end of that thread was in his hand.

This was the moment.

---

A dark, cold corridor with no beginning and no end.

The walls on both sides were high, creating an immense sense of oppression. On the walls hung portraits of various sizes. The paintings were lifelike, every facial detail rendered with terrifying precision. The figures’ gazes were chilling, as if they were alive.

Somewhere in the corridor.

The colors of one of the paintings suddenly faded, and the portrait on it quickly blurred. Soon, a person struggled to climb out of the frame and fell to the floor.

He gasped for air, his chest heaving like a broken bellows.

After some unknown amount of time, the person shakily raised his head.

A ghastly pale face, chilling eyes, an average and unremarkable height, and blurry features that were hard to remember—

It was none other than Mason, who should have been dead!

He looked around blankly, his gaze gradually focusing. He suddenly lowered his head and began to chuckle.

Alive…
He was actually still alive!

That guy, the Gentleman, was right. This gallery really could leave him a save file!

From that perspective, giving that thing to him wasn’t too much of a loss.

Mason buried his face in his hands, his laughter growing louder, bordering on hysterical.

Hahahahaha!

He was still alive!

After some time, he finally stopped and slowly stood up.

Behind him, his own portrait in the frame had vanished, leaving only a rough canvas.

Mason opened his livestream.

No signal.

But there was never any signal here; Mason had expected this.

As soon as he left the gallery, he could reconnect with the Nightmare.

When that time comes…

Mason’s fully restored face twisted slightly, and endless malice churned in his eyes.

Pinocchio.

The person who had brought him to this state.

He would take everything from him, make him crawl and beg at his feet, crying his eyes out, and finally make his life a living hell, begging him to end it.

Mason took a deep breath, forcibly suppressing the churning emotions in his heart. He straightened his collar, his expression once again becoming calm and gloomy.

In any case, he had to leave this corridor first.

Following the route from memory, Mason walked down the corridor, his pace hurried, as if he couldn’t wait.

Time ticked by.

But the gallery around him seemed unchanged, like a maze designed by a ghost.

Mason stopped, frowning.

What was going on?

He turned his head and was suddenly taken aback.

In a picture frame beside him, there wasn’t a portrait, but… a
mirror?

The mirror reflected Mason’s face, clearly showing his plain features, which looked as if they were covered in a thick layer of plaster.

“…”

Staring at his own face in the mirror, Mason’s expression twisted for a moment.

He hated mirrors.

Even before entering the Nightmare and becoming an anchor, Mason had been a man with terrifying jealousy.

He harbored a dark hatred for everyone better than him, everyone with better jobs and higher incomes. They were the winners in life, surrounded by countless beautiful women, living the kind of life he could only dream of and would do anything to obtain. Perhaps it was because of this that he had gained such a talent after entering the Nightmare Live Stream.

[Copy]

From then on, he had the ability to seize what he wanted. And after he copied them, the original owners’ talents would become unusable. Mason would sometimes even deliberately not use a person’s ability, indefinitely extending the period where they were talentless, taking pleasure in their helpless struggles and desperate pleas.

But as he used his talent without restraint, he found that his “self” was also slowly disappearing.

He lost his own face, his own voice, and his own appearance and features. A thick layer of plaster made his facial features unrecognizable, as if he were a molded mannequin.

…A copy.

Wen Jianyan’s face flashed through Mason’s mind.

An elegant face, a well-proportioned body, outstanding eloquence and charm. He could attract everyone’s attention the moment he appeared and easily win anyone’s favor.

Completely unlike him.

In the real world, someone like that would surely be popular and would never give him a second glance, right?

Mason’s teeth ground together, his face twisting with ferocity. Malice, jealousy, and desire surged forth all at once.

Crush him, defile him, make him suffer and scream.

Once he left this place, he would use every means at his disposal to make the other feel what true despair was.

Suddenly, a voice abruptly sounded in the dead-silent gallery.

It was deep and magnetic, with a cold, metallic quality.

“What filthy eyes.”

“?!”

Wha—

Mason jolted, whipping his head toward the source of the sound.

Not far away, in the darkness at the end of the gallery, a tall figure had appeared at some point. He stood there quietly, as if he had merged with the surrounding darkness.

When did he appear?!

Mason’s pupils constricted, a chill running up his spine.

He stared fixedly at the shadow in the darkness, his throat tightening involuntarily—from that person, he felt a terrifying, abyss-like aura.

Not human, extremely powerful.

Unbeatable, cannot be fought.

What was that?

Why did it appear?

Mason didn’t know and had no time to consider the answer.

Because…

The gallery changed.

As if receiving some command, every painting on the corridor walls slowly began to “come alive”. They rolled their eyes, their greedy gazes fixed on the only living person in the gallery.

“Tap, tap, tap, tap.”

Footsteps echoed in the empty gallery.

Not good!!!

Mason’s heart pounded with fear. He instinctively prepared to fight back, but suddenly found… he couldn’t move.

In the darkness, shadows stirred, and an invisible force wrapped around his limbs.

“Tap, tap, tap, tap.”

The footsteps grew denser, more urgent, closer.

A bone-chilling cold surrounded him from all directions. It was a terrifying supernatural force that human power could not resist.

Move, move!

Why can’t I move why can’t I move why why why?!

No, no no no—

Mason’s eyes darted frantically, his expression turning crazed with extreme terror.

No…

I just came back to life… I absolutely cannot die… I can’t!

Just before being devoured by the ghouls, he seemed to faintly hear that voice again from a distance.

“Don’t let him die too easily.”

The being in the darkness narrowed a pair of brilliant golden eyes:

“I hate the way he looked at my partner.”

__

Author’s Note:

 Dying once at the hands of each husband, who’s to say that’s not a gain?

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