VAP - Chapter 185
Chapter 185: The Ruler in the Endless Deep Darkness (18)
Yue Du stood by the window, identifying the girl who had been bullied in the cafeteria from among the twenty students. She asked Li Wei, “Do you know what her name is?”
Li Wei was silent for a moment. “I do. She’s Fang Panpan.” He paused, then added, “We’ve been getting punished together a lot recently.”
Yue Du said, “Okay.”
Under the strange gazes of the students, Yue Du led Fang Panpan out of the classroom.
Fang Panpan was exceptionally thin and small. Face to face, you could see she was like a little girl, somewhat malnourished. She was timid, too; when Yue Du came to get her, she didn’t even dare to ask why and just followed her out.
After seeing Li Wei, Fang Panpan called out softly, “Brother Wei.”
Then she seemed to want to hide behind him, but after glancing at Yue Du, she stopped.
Li Wei whispered, “They’re not believers in the fire.”
Fang Panpan let out a huge sigh of relief and hid behind him, reassured.
Yue Du took the two students to other classrooms on the same floor. She found that in every class, the children who were bullied and “educated” could be spotted at a glance, completely out of place with their surroundings.
“That girl with her hair in a bun, sitting in the third row of the middle section, do you know her?”
“I know her. Her name is Tan Jianyue.”
“Do you know that boy in the last row by the window?”
“Is that Zhao Lang?”
“That short-haired girl?”
“That’s my roommate, Ruan Jingyao.”
After a trip up and down the floors, Yue Du had eleven students following her—five girls and six boys, matching the number of charred corpses from last night.
They looked somewhat anxious, but whenever Li Wei muttered a few words to them, their expressions would soften.
Someone looked at the time and said, “Class is about to start. Aren’t we going back to the classroom?”
Yue Du said flatly, “That’s right. We’re not going back today.”
The students looked at each other, all hesitating. One boy said, “Skipping class means getting a tattoo. At least four hours of it.”
“A tattoo?”
“Haven’t you been punished before? You go into the disciplinary room and lie under the candles. You go once, and the scar it leaves will never go away. You get a firebird on your body. We call it a tattoo.”
Yue Du noticed a string of burn scars on the boy’s neck that had already scabbed over. It was obvious they were scars from when he was alive; otherwise, they would have healed quickly and wouldn’t have had time to scab.
Judging by the shape, it looked like there had once been a tattoo there, which had then been cruelly burned off.
It wasn’t just him; several other students also had unhealing scars on their faces and hands.
Yue Du saw their apprehension and said solemnly, “It’s okay. You won’t be punished. I promise.”
The students exchanged several glances.
Li Wei was the first to speak. “I’ll accept the punishment if it comes. I really don’t want to attend a single one of these classes.”
“Yeah, I’d rather study math, physics, and chemistry!”
“Me neither.”
“The worst that can happen is we get beaten to death. What’s there to be afraid of?”
Yue Du reflexively wanted to say, “Don’t speak of death so lightly,” but she didn’t say it out loud.
Just then, the bell rang, so there was no more need to hesitate. The group hurriedly ran out of the academic building and ducked into the dark green bushes nearby.
“But… if we’re not going to class, what should we do?” Fang Panpan asked, bewildered.
Yue Du said, “What do you want to do? The thing you want to do most.”
Fang Panpan thought for a long time, then lowered her head. “I want to eat. I’m so hungry. But we’ll get caught if we go to the cafeteria, and they’re not serving food at this time anyway.”
Yue Du asked seriously, “Then how about we get something from the tuck shop first to tide us over, okay?”
“We’ll get caught at the tuck shop, too. The owner is our class teacher’s younger brother. He’s really fierce.”
“It’s fine. This student, Yue Jiu, has a special skill. When she buys things, everyone thinks she’s a teacher.” Yue Du turned to Ah Jiu and said, “Get some food. I’m counting on you.”
The system with the special skill of being ignored by NPCs reluctantly got up, ordered to go buy food.
As soon as she left, the students inexplicably relaxed even more. Although the girl called Yue Jiu was also very beautiful, they always felt she was not to be trifled with and was hard to approach.
“What else do you want to do?” Yue Du joked. “A chance to skip class is rare. We have to make good use of it.”
The students fell silent in unison for a moment, then began to speak up eagerly.
“Let’s go pull out Geng the Skinner’s potted plants! And while we’re at it, let’s confront him when no one’s around!”
“Didn’t they say Geng the Skinner retired? I don’t think I’ve seen the new headmaster much.”
“Who cares? The classes we take and the punishments we get haven’t changed. The new one is definitely no good, either.”
“But she’s good-looking.”
Yue Du was worried this group of kids would actually go confront Xuan Jiu. Fortunately, they were just talking tough and had no real intention of running to the headmaster’s office.
They seemed to get carried away with their own discussion, chattering amongst themselves. After a while, someone started it—perhaps they intended to say it in a normal, conversational tone, but they couldn’t hold back the sob in their voice: “I want to go home…”
The air suddenly grew cold.
The girl who had spoken immediately had red eyes. Crying, she said, “I really want to go home… I really want to go back. I-I’ll never talk back to my dad again. I’ll listen to whatever he says, as long as he comes to take me home…”
She buried her face and began to sob.
Another girl took out a tissue and handed it to her. The few who had just been acting cheerful, talking about getting revenge on Geng the Skinner, the senior mentors, and other bullies, also fell silent.
Those words seemed to have flipped a switch, or like a hook that had pulled out the one thing they most wanted to do but couldn’t.
Zhao Lang said, “I don’t want to go home. My dad’s mistress is pregnant. He threw me in here because he didn’t want me in the way. He won’t even answer my calls. If I could get out, I’d fucking stay far away from their family of three.”
Fang Panpan said, “I don’t want to go back either. It’s useless. My mom said she has to raise my little brother and has no time or money to take care of me. If I could get out, I’d get a job and support myself.”
Ruan Jingyao said, “I still want to go back. If my mom and dad knew how I was being bullied here, they would definitely come take me home. My dad would report it to the police and have them throw all these crazy cultists in prison.”
Tan Jianyue said, “It doesn’t matter if I go back or not. Even if they beat me to death, I won’t break up with Wanwan. The old man didn’t even let me keep a phone. Wanwan must be so worried since she can’t contact me.”
Li Wei didn’t speak, but his eyes were also clearly red. Yue Du glimpsed him lowering his head, turning his palm over, and pressing his lips together tightly.
He said, I’ll never play games again, as long as I can get out.
She said, I miss my sister so much. When I get out…
They said, If only we could get out…
But they could never get out again.
Yue Du felt a lump in her throat. Her expression remained normal as she said in a gentle tone, “Well, maybe you’ll be able to get out tomorrow.”
One student found this reasonable. “Right, we can sneak into the office tonight, get a phone, and call my dad.”
Just then, the sound of unhurried footsteps came from outside the bushes. The group fell silent, alert, staring in the direction of the sound like wild rabbits with their ears pricked.
It was Ah Jiu, returning with an armful of food.
The students cheered softly and went forward to get their food. They walked deeper into the bushes, sat down in a circle, and began to eat.
Their shared experience made these children, who would otherwise never have crossed paths, trust each other and talk about everything. In the end, even Li Wei opened up.
He said he really wanted to be a professional esports player, but that was impossible now. An old man at the academy had demonstrated how to offer blood to the Lord of Fire and had severed the tendons in his left hand. The doctor hadn’t thought much of it, saying, “You don’t write with your left hand anyway.”
A few of them came to comfort him. He forced a smile. “It’s okay. I know a game that can be played with one hand. It was doing well last year. I wonder how it is now.”
Yue Du listened quietly from beginning to end.
When she felt they were getting thirsty from talking, she privately messaged Ah Jiu, “Do you think these kids can drink that Kin Horn Tea from the Deep Darkness Ruler?”
Ah Jiu replied, “Since She gave it to you, ordinary people can drink it.”
So, the pot of Kin Horn Tea that Ah Jiu had swiped was divided equally among everyone present. It was poured into mineral water bottles, with each person getting about half a small bottle. Thank goodness for Xuan Jiu’s teapot, because it was large enough to be used as a floor vase.
A few students saw the color of the tea and were suspicious, taking a small, distrustful sip.
“This is so good!”
“What kind of drink is this? Juice? I’ve never seen it at the academy.”
Yue Du smiled faintly. “I got it from Headmaster Xuan. She’s not so bad.”
Fang Panpan asked, “Could it be poisoned?”
Yue Du replied, “Of course not. I’ve had some myself.”
The students were reassured and began to think that having a new headmaster wasn’t so bad. If her character was decent, maybe the academy would get at least a little better in the future.
Over the course of the morning, the group moved between several hidden spots.
With a system like Ah Jiu around, the students would vanish without a trace long before the teachers who were out looking for them during their free periods could get close. This infuriated the teachers, who swore they would beat this bunch of problem students to death when they found them.
The bell for the lunch break could be heard even outside the academic building. Ah Jiu was tasked with the important mission of getting food from the cafeteria and discreetly leading the other players over, a mission she successfully completed.
When the players learned that morning that Yue Du and her companion had skipped class with a group of students, they had marveled, saying something like, “This must be what it means to be a top player,” daring to lead so many people out to find a way to escape the academy.
But who would have known she was actually taking eleven kids on a picnic?
As it turned out, after sitting with these kids for half the day and listening to their stories, there wasn’t a single player whose eyes weren’t red.
Among them, Song Zhan cried the hardest, snot and tears everywhere. A student even had to remind him to keep it down, lest he attract a sharp-eared teacher.
Finally, Li Wei said, “I want to go see the ash pile.”
Fang Panpan opened her mouth, looking a little scared, but she didn’t try to dissuade him.
Yue Du asked, “The ash pile? Where’s that?”
“When someone dies at the academy, if their family doesn’t claim the body, they’re cremated and buried there. The teachers usually don’t let us go there.”
Don’t the families cause a scene?
Li Wei said simply, “The academy gives them a lot of money.”
The tuition to enter the academy was almost nothing, just a symbolic fee for living expenses. If something happened to a child, they paid money. That way, no one would make a fuss.
After all, any parent who cared even a little for their child would never send them into this fiery hell.
The ash pile was near the surrounding wall, just a mound of earth with no obvious purpose. The players had passed by it on the first day while looking for the main gate, completely oblivious.
And in this very place, a dozen, perhaps even dozens, of sets of ashes were buried. There were no tombstones, and no one knew who was inside.
Li Wei squatted by the ash pile and stared at it silently for a long while before taking out his mineral water bottle. No one had noticed before, but Li Wei hadn’t finished the dark blue drink from the morning; he had saved half of it.
“You guys aren’t ones for sweets. Have a taste. Whether you can snatch it from the upperclassmen is up to you.”
He poured the tea onto the ash pile.
For the last period before school let out in the afternoon, the group stayed there. The teachers wouldn’t come looking for them here. It was very quiet.
With one minute left before dismissal, the players looked at their watches and exchanged glances.
“This is the happiest day I’ve had since coming to the academy,” Fang Panpan said suddenly. She smiled shyly, then raised her head and stared blankly at the high red wall.
They all looked at it.
“That’s wonderful,” Yue Du said softly. “See you in a bit.”
As soon as she finished speaking, the final bell faintly rang in the distance. At that same moment, the students beside them vanished, leaving only the players standing there.
“Fuck!” Song Zhan immediately broke down, a grown man in tears.
Tang Ying’s nose also stung, but she said, “Stop crying. We’ll see them again tonight.”
Song Zhan choked out, “Half the reason I’m crying is because we have to see them tonight! During the day, the kids are so endearing, but at night, they’ll probably be staring at us with empty eye sockets, wanting us dead. What kind of tragic contrast is that?!”
Now, a cruel future lay before the players. If they couldn’t find a way out of the academy, they would have to face a life-or-death battle with the children’s charred corpses at night.
And at this moment, they still hadn’t found any clues.
Yue Du said, “Actually, we don’t need to search. We don’t have any irreconcilable conflicts with these children.”
The young man with the small braid asked, “You found a clue?”
“I have a rough idea. Let’s go. I’ll explain on the way.”
Yue Du omitted the parts about Xuan Jiu and analyzed her conversation with Mr. Geng for the players.
“So, those students all committed suicide. After death, they took revenge on the people who drove them to it. But because their greatest enemy survived, their resentment didn’t dissipate and instead grew, forming this instance,” the young man with the braid summarized. “To leave the instance, we have to help the students kill Mr. Geng to resolve their resentment.”
Yue Du nodded. “That’s my line of thinking. Judging from Mr. Geng’s reaction, the direction and conclusion should be correct.”
Tang Ying said in amazement, “But he’s a high-ranking believer of the Red Copper Bird! It wouldn’t be strange to get team-wiped if you ran into him. How did you not get silenced? You’re a pro!”
Yue Du waved her hand and made up a serious-sounding story, “It was mainly luck. My trump card happened to be a counter to him, but unfortunately, it was a one-time use and is now gone.”
The players all said, “So that’s how it was.” Whether they truly believed her in their hearts was another matter.
Before midnight arrived, the players went back to their beds to catch up on sleep.
Yue Du, however, couldn’t bring herself to sleep. Staring at the bottom of the top bunk, she suddenly realized Ah Jiu was sleeping beside her, soft and close, and she had already grown used to it.
“Ah Jiu,” she said in her mind.
“I’m here.”
“I have a question.” Yue Du closed her eyes, searching for the right words. “Today, when you listened to those kids talking… what did you feel?”
For a few seconds, Ah Jiu was still, so much so that Yue Du thought she had entered sleep mode. But then her slightly husky voice sounded, stating calmly, “Nothing.”
“Really? What about your thoughts?”
“I understand what you mean,” Ah Jiu moved closer, and Yue Du felt warm breath against her ear. “No feelings, and no thoughts. I can’t empathize with humans. I can’t experience emotions like sympathy, pity, or melancholy when interacting with them. Will you distance yourself from me because of this?”
“Are all systems like this?”
“Most are not.”
Ah Jiu suddenly propped herself up, leaning over Yue Du. “But to me, you are different from all other living beings.”
Your emotions affect mine. What you care about is where my gaze falls. Only you.
Long hair scattered down, brushing against Yue Du’s neck. She had the distinct feeling that Ah Jiu was about to lower her head for a kiss. Just then, Tang Ying in the opposite bed turned over with a loud rustle, mumbling something in her sleep.
Yue Du: “…”
Ah Jiu: “…”
The atmosphere suddenly became delicate. Ah Jiu sighed silently, lay back down, and murmured, “I won’t tease you anymore. Let’s rest up and conserve our energy.”
Yue Du suppressed a laugh. “You’re right.”
Five minutes before midnight, the players stood ready outside the dormitory building, their signature skills in hand. Yue Du wiped the blade of Deep Darkness Judgment, waiting for the resentful spirits and the fiery hell to emerge.
Swirling black threads intertwined behind them, outlining Xuan Jiu’s figure. No one noticed her arrival, as if they had been stripped of the ability to perceive her—except for Yue Du.
Xuan Jiu’s aura and presence were so overwhelming that Yue Du knew she had arrived again without even needing to turn her head.
You really have too much free time, Yue Du thought with a headache.
She recalled the spell, Deep Darkness Gaze. This spell, noted as “When you recite this incantation, it is as if the supreme Deep Darkness stands behind you,” had an effect that didn’t distinguish between friend or foe but was incredibly powerful. It could be considered one of her greatest trump cards, a sure killing move against Mr. Geng.
But now, the Deep Darkness herself was literally standing behind her. Would it really be okay to use it under these circumstances?
Yue Du stared ahead with a blank expression, pretending she hadn’t noticed anything either.
Suddenly, flames erupted all around. The grass, flowers, and trees burned wildly, illuminating the eleven shadows that had appeared in front of the dormitory building.
The shortest of the charred corpses took a contorted step forward and said haltingly, “Yesterday… huff… warned you… leave…”
“Fang Panpan,” Yue Du called out.
The charred corpse froze. It was almost impossible to see the shadow of the small, timid girl in it, but it slowly tilted its head. “How do you know… my name.”
It seems they don’t have their daytime memories, Yue Du sighed inwardly. She said, “You told me during the day.”
“Daytime?” Fang Panpan stopped moving, as if concentrating on remembering something.
The players called out the other students’ names. Although it was difficult to identify them due to the drastic differences in their appearance, they eventually matched every name to a corpse.
However, calling out their names couldn’t stop the students’ attacks. They had wandered with resentment for three years and had, in fact, long since gone mad.
Unable to resolve their resentment, losing their sanity was the fate of all vengeful spirits. From the moment they were formed, they had automatically become believers of the God of All Undead. And madness was the common end for all followers of evil gods.
Yue Du said, “You want to kill Mr. Geng, Geng the Skinner, right? We’ll help.”
This sentence caused a stir among the charred corpses. The resentful spirits made hoarse, strange noises at each other, seemingly communicating.
The charred corpses lying prone on the ground trembled even more violently. One raised its head and shrieked, “Don’t… huff… you can’t touch the teacher!”
With a soft crack, Fang Panpan lifted her foot and stomped, caving in the corpse’s withered chest. Her eyeless sockets twitched as she said, “Shut up.”
Li Wei said, “Even with you… kkhh… we can’t kill him. Something is protecting him.”
Yue Du replied, “There’s no harm in trying. Maybe it’ll work.”
The resentful spirits finally reached a consensus. Li Wei turned his head from side to side and agreed, “Then we’ll cooperate… kkhh… That Geng is good at hiding. We have to find where… kkhh… he is first.”
Ah Jiu sent a private message: “Location acquired.”
Yue Du replied, “Good.”
She turned to the players and the resentful spirits. “I know former Headmaster Geng’s whereabouts. Please follow me.”
Former Headmaster Geng’s location showed that he was currently in the meditation room on the first floor of the academic building and hadn’t moved for several hours.
There was only one thing in the meditation room: the sacrificial fire.
In fact, for the past few hours, Mr. Geng had been doing only one thing: praying to the Red Copper Bird.
He frantically cut his skin, feeding his crimson blood into the blazing pillar of flame, reciting the most devout praises and summoning incantations, desperate for a response.
He had succeeded before. He could succeed again!
The resentful spirits couldn’t touch him, and a few “transfer students” were nothing. As long as the supreme Lord of Fire sent down a divine revelation, that unfathomably dangerous woman would pose no threat to him!
It didn’t matter if Xuan Jiu was an alien or an ancient being. No matter how terrifying her aura was, what was she in the face of a true god?
Unfortunately, Mr. Geng didn’t know that the Undying Fire he worshipped had just received a warning from Xuan Jiu not long ago. It had no desire to let its spirit descend upon this planet again for at least a few thousand years, so naturally, it wouldn’t pay any attention to a believer’s prayers.
After numerous fruitless attempts, Mr. Geng’s face darkened. It’s fine, he thought. Perhaps this small matter isn’t worthy of the Lord’s divine revelation.
And Xuan Jiu isn’t necessarily on the opposing side. When I jumped out the window this morning, she didn’t stop me, did she?
The more Mr. Geng thought about it, the more he believed this was the case. Just then, he heard the faint sound of footsteps outside.
Yue Du came to a stop in front of the academic building and watched as Mr. Geng slowly strolled out of the meditation room. He shook his head and sighed, “Why bother? You can’t kill me. Every time you come, you only increase your own resentment. Why bother?”
With new and old hatreds compounding, the resentful spirits lost all reason the moment they saw Mr. Geng. Ghastly white ghost-fire ignited in their eye sockets as they attacked him in unison.
“Still no improvement.” Mr. Geng tilted his head, dodging the withered but sharp, charred claws. He lectured them in a tone that could almost be called gentle, like an elder giving guidance. “With just these tricks, how could you possibly kill me? Wouldn’t it be better to stay in the dormitory and play with those good children?”
He was intentionally provoking the resentful spirits, intensifying their resentment.
The players exchanged a look and, without further hesitation, rushed forward to help.
The Tang and Song siblings each held a thick wooden club. Muttering something under their breath, they swung, and a single blow dented and cracked the wall, the impact like a meteorite landing.
The young man with the braid clenched his teeth and suddenly stabbed himself in the leg. Mr. Geng stumbled, and blood began to gush from the exact same spot on his leg.
The young girl’s eyes were vacant. She suddenly let out a frustrated “Aiya!” and said, “Is the Fantasy Spirit Witch in a bad mood? The spell success rate is so low.” After speaking, her gaze went vacant again, clearly attempting another cast.
Yue Du, however, did not advance. She gripped Deep Darkness Judgment tightly, her eyes fixed on Mr. Geng’s every move.
The resentful spirits said something was protecting him.
Then I have to wait. Wait for that thing to appear.
Mr. Geng had never expected a few transfer students to be so troublesome. Under their bizarre and varied attacks, his evasive movements gradually became strained.
Suddenly, his foot slipped for some reason. Just as this mistake was about to deliver his throat to the resentful spirits’ claws, the young girl cried out, “Success!”
But it wasn’t to be. Wisps of flame shot out from Mr. Geng’s seven orifices, converging in the blink of an eye into a massive fire python that blocked the tips of the spirits’ claws.
“Hiss, hiss.” The fire python flicked its tongue and slowly coiled itself around Mr. Geng’s shoulders.
Mr. Geng sounded almost helpless. “Sigh, look at you. What can you ever accomplish besides forcing it out? Do you really think you can defeat the fire spirit bestowed by the Lord?”
The coiled fire python took all the attacks, and it seemed that no matter how hard they tried, they couldn’t break through its defense.
But he called it a fire spirit…
Yue Du glanced down at Deep Darkness Judgment, then looked up at the fire python. A name alone couldn’t confirm anything. She couldn’t act rashly until she confirmed it was a spiritual body.
How can I determine if this thing is a spiritual body?
As Yue Du focused her full attention on the fire python, she was unaware that her eyes were rapidly transforming, taking on the cold, inorganic glint of metal.
Ah Jiu’s expression faltered.
The Silent Watcher. A completely objective observation tool. Of course it can help distinguish spiritual bodies. But in the game, this ability should have been sealed along with Yue Du’s other powers.
Did Xuan Jiu loosen the restrictions?
She glanced discreetly at the Deep Darkness Ruler, but the latter didn’t seem to mind, her gaze fixed entirely on Yue Du.
The awakening of the Watcher was a great help to Yue Du. Under its observation, the fire python’s nature as a spiritual body was laid bare, revealing even its points of weak energy with perfect clarity.
Yue Du no longer hesitated. She changed her grip on the dagger’s hilt, her calm, almost cold eyes aiming for a weak spot, and hurled Deep Darkness Judgment with all her might.
With a faint sound of tearing air, the tip of the dagger sank into the fire python’s left eye, passed through the back of its head, and pinned it to the wall behind Mr. Geng.
The moment the flames touched the black dagger, a hissing, corrosive sound erupted and spread outwards with devastating speed. The fire python’s tail twitched weakly twice, then fell still.
Yue Du let out a soft breath and shouted toward the resentful spirits, “Don’t just stand there! Strike while the iron is hot!”
Mr. Geng: “Wai—”
The next moment, he was engulfed by a surge of ghastly white ghost-fire.
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