Ch81 – I wonder who it’ll be this year

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Zong Jiu’s brand of logic made them go mute.
After listening to what initially seemed like a long spiel of unreasonableness, Class 9’s trainees actually felt that he did make the tiniest bit of sense.

Let alone the trainees, even the bullet chat went silent. 

Reason told them the Magician’s point had awakened the brainwashed masses, but emotion told them they couldn’t let themselves get broadsided by such words.

It took a good long while before some trainees were able to come back to their senses.

 

 

They regarded the white-haired Magician like he was a foolish newbie, sighing.
“You’re a newcomer, you have no clue how terrifying that man is.”

In religion, devils symbolised mythical creatures of hell that manipulated and deceived mankind. 

They took the likeness of goats, had invincible forces of evil, liked to beguile with words, and delighted in gazing upon the distorted faces of humanity lost to the mire.

 

Why didn’t anyone know No.
1’s true name, only using this formidable and foreboding title of the Devil to address him?

Because he was powerful enough.
Because he was fearsome enough.

Like an enigma, he materialised out of nowhere in the infinite loop, and once he did, he unleashed interminable fervour and fear.

 

Even from the beginning, the Devil had shot to fame for destroying an instance.

No one knew what had occurred in that S-rank instance.
All they knew was the very moment his black leather shoes stepped out, the system announced the entire plotline of the instance had crumbled.

For better context, though S-rank instances were terrifying, they were perpetually recycled and reused, simply that the gap would span many years.
For example, the ‘Book of the Dead’ instance would rerun every decade or so.
While no history records were preserved in the infinite loop, trainees would often find traces left behind by others who entered before them.

 

Yet, when the Devil entered an instance, he caused the collapse of its dimension. 

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This strength was unheard of.
It was unprecedented.
Nor had anyone ever imagined it.

Every instance, from S-rank to F-rank instances, had fully fleshed out backgrounds and set-ups.

Before the Devil’s arrival, the craziest achievement was a trainee causing a scene to fall apart.
After all, with one’s individual strength unable to surpass the constraints of humanity, as well as the ironclad law that humans were unable to surpass supernatural beings, the margin that a trainee was given leeway to play was infinitesimal.

Where everyone’s objective was simply to survive, someone stepped to the peak, sauntering, humming absently.
Backdropped by a melody so discordant, millions of instances rumbled and collapsed. 

He never cooperated with anyone.
He was aloof and unfathomable.
When he launched an onslaught, he never differentiated friend from foe, often attacking those on his side.
However, the mortality rate of trainees lucky enough to be in the same instance as the Devil was notoriously low.

In a universe where S-rank instances were so common, with a mortality rate reaching as high as sixty percent, it was the ultimate blessing to run into the Devil, an instance-wrecker.

The first wave of followers was birthed from the survivors of these instances.

Trainees able to enter high-ranking instances wouldn’t be lacking in strength themselves.
As such, their shock was all the more amplified. 

We’re sorry for MTLers or people who like using reading mode, but our translations keep getting stolen by aggregators so we’re going to bring back the copy protection.
If you need to MTL please retype the gibberish parts.

Trainees lucky to have survived shuddered and proclaimed that man to be a madman through and through.

Qlat tjgvis jcs foobga, tf mbeiv ralg atf wbra afgglyif, vjgxfra qlar bo atf tewjc tfjga.

 

Cii tewjc reoofglcu kjr kbgatifrr lc tlr fsfr.

Dea atf Gfnli’r wjvcfrr kjrc’a atf wjvcfrr bo j agef qrsmtbqjat. 

Rb bcf ecvfgrabbv atf geifr yfaafg atjc tlw.
Lf jikjsr qijsfv klat olcfrrf, ilxf j geifg bmmeqslcu tlut ugbecv, mbivis ujhlcu eqbc atf kbgiv ogbw jybnf.
Szevlcu wjilmf atja rfca mtliir vbkc bcf’r rqlcfr.

He strolled through this universe brimming with filth and ugliness.
The deep abyss behind his dark golden eyes flicked between interest and disinterest, like nothing was worthy of staying forever in his sight.
His arrogance was to the point of absurdity.

Yet this careless power, wandering gracefully at knifepoint, was simultaneously accompanied by a personality so extreme that people couldn’t help but flinch back whilst also being drawn in.

The infinite loop was a morbid place to begin with. 

Those who entered, even if they weren’t perverted, would be tainted with perversion from the suffocation of this perilous environment.

Gradually, after creating innumerable, irreplaceable legends, the Devil was unanimously enshrined by all.

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The Joker was able to preside over Gotham; Voldemort was able to become the Dark Lord; Hitler was able to amass many supporters.

Because of the Joker’s wild lawlessness, because of Voldemort’s cruel regime, also because Hitler brought real hope to Germany post-WWI, boosting the nation’s economy.
However, the glow was too fleeting and soon became engulfed by greater desires, descending into a more ghastly abyss. 

In desperate times, the more bottomless the fear, the more one could be embraced.

And madmen were always the most welcomed.

A trainee stammered, “His Grace has many followers, but since we’re in the same class and he’s a teacher, it’d be better not to try to face the enemy head-on.”

To these trainees, this notion was so deeply ingrained into their consciousness over the years it was difficult to uproot. 

It had nothing to do with life or death, but purely out of a warped respect for the strong.

It wasn’t possible to shatter this notion unless the Devil fell and a new God was crowned.

This, too, coincided with Gui Guzi’s prophecy.

The white-haired young man dropped his gaze, thinking in silence. 

His memory of what happened to Zhuge An was still fresh.

After the Devil left, Zong Jiu drew from his Tarot Deck.

 

He wanted to see, between the Devil and Zhuge An, who was lying.

Even if he didn’t believe a lick of what either of them said. 

Surprisingly, Zong Jiu drew the same card both times.

When meditating on Zhuge An, he drew the Moon in the upright orientation, whereas when meditating on the Devil, he drew the Moon in the reversed orientation.

He also drew this same card for Grandma Yin in Famine Mountain Village.

The reversed orientation for this card conversely represented the moon breaking past the fog, enlightenment and turning of the tide. 

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On the other hand, the upright orientation represented danger lurking in the subconscious, obscure and unpredictable, eerie and disquieting.

—and deception.

—

When class ended for the afternoon, trainees went to the hostel. 

There was a period dedicated to student activities from noon to just before afternoon classes, and another after the afternoon classes till evening self-study.

In a broad sense, the second period during evening self-study was when class ended for the day.
The third period was for students to freely make their own arrangements or head to the offices for assistance, study support, and such.

Like the dilapidated teaching block, the hostel was tight and damp, similarly worn with age.

Its facade was repainted in white on all sides, but this did little to conceal its cracked walls and mossy black corners. 

Incandescent lamps hung from the cobweb-strewn ceiling, weakly casting light as endless rows of rooms lined the corridor on both sides.
Looking around induced discomfort and depression.

Many trainees shrunk back, whispering to each other, “This hostel isn’t haunted, right…? Why does it feel so eerie.”

[You’re already in a high school campus; how can there not be a few ghost stories?]

[Let me try and recall what campus ghost stories there are.
The red shoes of the dancing studio? The extra step that came out of nowhere? The plaster bust in the art room? The hanged man? Hanako of the toilet?] 

[Instances revolving around ghost stories are super scary.
Last time I encountered a Slit-Mouthed Woman in a C-ranked instance and my entire party almost got wiped out.]

[Holy shit, a Slit-Mouthed Woman in a C-rank instance? I’d just drop dead.]

 

Meanwhile, a trainee happened to ask about the former hostel building.

“Have you guys seen the other hostel block? Over there, that one.” 

Everyone looked in the direction he pointed.

On the other side of the quadrangle, there was another block close to this hostel building.

This building was a facsimile of the hostel before them, only that its front was locked shut by chains, barring entry.

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“I heard that that block used to be the male hostel of First High; students from the previous batch were staying there.
The hostel we’re staying in now was formerly the female hostel.” 

Everyone was unconvinced by his words.

If students from the previous batch still lived there, why didn’t the school just open the male hostel instead of letting them stay in the female hostel?

[I’m getting a bad feeling about this.]

[Me too.
When I consider how there might be paranormal incidents in this school, I get a supremely bad feeling.] 

[It’s impossible for most schools to suddenly let guys stay in the female hostel, unless… erm.
Y’know.
Usually when there’s a suicide at the university, they’d switch it up and let the guys in the next batch stay there instead to counteract the bad karma with their Yang nature.]

[Vouching for that.
I participated in a school instance before where that university had a very famous couples’ building.
The female hostel was on the left and the male hostel was on the right.
As everyone knows, generally, male hostels are strictly for males and female hostels are strictly for females.
There are no co-ed hostels because they’re difficult to manage.

It was only later when we were clearing the plotline that we found out that there was an accidental pregnancy in the previous year.
A bastard cheated on his girlfriend and got together with a bitch.
The bitch somehow got hold of og girlfriend’s abortion test and pretended to accidentally send it to the class group chat, then the whole school knew about it.
Later, the girl got so depressed that she hung herself in the hostel over the weeklong national holiday break.
By the time her roommate opened the door, the corpse was already decomposing… This incident blew up but later got suppressed by the school.
The hostel stayed vacant for two years and only after the involved parties graduated then did they arrange for male freshmen to live in there, but who would’ve thought that it was haunted.]

[Omg, I’m getting creeps from the story upstairs.] 

Just as the discussion in the bullet chat was heating up, the hostel caretaker appeared.

She had the same cold and blank face as the parents and teachers in this instance, as she led all of the trainees to the hostel’s lobby.

The lobby was plastered with yellowing ceramic tiles and surrounded by a winding flight of stairs.

“You are to wake up at 6:15 every morning and leave by 7:30.
Lights out is at 11 p.m.
and the hostel doors will be locked at 11:50 p.m.
If you are absent during the room-checks, you’ll be punished severely for not returning to the hostel at night.” 

“I will do routine patrols before daybreak.
If I see lights in anyone’s rooms, or if there is disturbance from any room, I’ll also mark your name down.”

While the caretaker stressed the hostel rules, some trainees were quaking as they looked at the ceiling behind her.

 

In fact, many had noticed it the moment they entered the lobby.

On the ceiling, a long piece of rope hung down, its end still stained with some unidentifiable black marks.
Upon closer inspection, one could even see what looked like fragmented remnants of skin tissue. 

As if sensing the eyes on her, the hostel caretaker grinned from ear to ear.
“They’re left behind by students from previous batches.
Every year, someone will crack and use it to end their life.”

“I wonder who it’ll be this year.”