“Splash—”
Cold water poured over the wound. It stung like nothing else.
The jolt of pain woke Tan Tai, and his body trembled involuntarily.
“Morning lessons are about to start. Get up and keep up.”
The Instructor showed no sympathy as he directed the Players.
When they arrived at the classroom, the Instructor left, and a middle-aged man took his place.
With a stern expression, he introduced himself: “I’m your Homeroom Teacher. I’m responsible for teaching your cultural studies.”
The main focus of the lessons was Recitation.
And they had to recite things that had nothing whatsoever to do with culture.
Hua Huai dragged her exhausted body into the classroom and fell silent as she looked at the books they had been handed.
The entire book praised how wonderful this school was, subtly trying to change their way of thinking.
Ideally, even after leaving the school, they would keep singing its praises and attract other parents to send their children there.
“For today, start by memorizing the first three passages. Recite them to me before lunch, or you won’t be eating lunch.”
Hua Huai had just finished a piece of bread. She wasn’t full, but at least she was no longer hungry enough to want to bite someone.
She wasn’t in the best condition, but her memory was excellent.
Besides, the passages followed a logical sequence. There were still several hours until noon, so memorizing three of them wouldn’t be difficult for her.
For the first hour, Hua Huai skimmed the three passages, really using the time to recover from the exhaustion of running.
Once she felt better, the words slipped easily into her mind.
Another hour later, Hua Huai was the first to approach the Homeroom Teacher and recite.
All the Players looked at Hua Huai as she recited all three passages, word for word, without a single mistake.
“You can go eat in the cafeteria.”
Other than Hua Huai, no one felt at ease.
How old was she?
She’d even passed the test after running six kilometers!
And her memory was that good when it came to reciting, too.
She left them all in the dust.
She’d already eaten breakfast, and now she was going to eat lunch, too.
Covered in wounds, Tan Tai lowered his head and glanced at his abdomen. He hadn’t eaten in nearly a day and a half.
His wounds burned with pain, and hunger made his vision go white. He couldn’t remember a single thing from the passages, his attention consumed by his physical discomfort.
Which only made him feel even worse.
Someone protested indignantly, “How is that fair? Is she really a newbie Player who’s never been through an Instance before?”
Sun Sui wasn’t sure anymore. “She doesn’t even know what an Anomaly is, so she should be a newbie, right?”
Xiang Lu put down her book. “How can you be sure she isn’t lying?”
Drawing on his experience, Sun Sui still leaned toward Hua Huai being a newbie. “She’s so young. How many Players her age have you seen in an Instance?”
“And even if you did see one, they probably didn’t make it out alive, right?”
Xiang Lu fell silent. Sun Sui was right: she had seen one, but that person had died inside the Instance.
Maybe Hua Huai just happened to have a talent for long-distance running and memorization.
The school grounds weren’t very large. Hua Huai could find the cafeteria without anyone showing her the way.
It was still early, so she didn’t hurry inside.
Her legs were still weak, but it was bearable.
At home, she often did chores and ran errands, so she was fairly active in her daily life.
Once she had caught her breath, she wouldn’t choose to rest.
To find a way to survive, she needed to understand this bizarre world.
Taking advantage of her free time, Hua Huai returned to the Dormitory and checked the beds. She found a circle drawn around Gan Hong’s name.
The Female Instructor had said earlier that Jin Kangtai had died, and now Gan Hong had died in front of all the Players.
So the names circled on the beds belonged to the dead.
Then the bed with the unfamiliar name on it also belonged to someone who had died.
Were they not a Player?
Or had a Player entered the school before they joined the Game and died there?
She couldn’t know for sure, but she silently memorized the unfamiliar name.
—Zhao Ling.
As she left the Dormitory, Hua Huai glanced at the bathroom next door.
The corpse inside was gone, and the floor had been cleaned thoroughly, just like the open space in front of the meditation room.
A chill ran through her. Unease gripped her, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching her from a dark corner.
She hurried out of the Dormitory and stepped into the sunlight. Only then did the chill inside her ease a little.
A white figure flitted past her eyes. By the time she focused on it, it was already about to disappear from view.
A student?
From yesterday until now, Hua Huai had only seen the group of students the Female Instructor had led into the meditation room.
Curious to investigate, Hua Huai followed the student.
The student walked so quickly that she had to jog to avoid losing sight of them.
She made quite a bit of noise, but the student never looked back.
They went into the teaching building and hurried up the stairs.
From the classroom next door came the sound of students reciting in unison, going over the passages Hua Huai had memorized not long ago.
She cautiously peered inside. Not only were the students reciting in unison, they looked like people following a preset script—their heads even moved by exactly the same amount.
The whole scene was eerie and horrifying.
The sight made Hua Huai’s scalp tingle. She quickly looked away and continued running up the stairs.
She had stopped for at least three seconds, yet the student on the stairs hadn’t gotten any farther away.
Were they deliberately waiting for her?
After a moment’s hesitation, she decided to keep following.
The student looked much older than her. If they really wanted to hurt her, there was no need to go to all this trouble to lure her here.
The student opened the iron door to the Top Floor and disappeared from Hua Huai’s sight.
She followed through the iron door and stepped onto the rooftop.
Snow-white sheets of paper drifted down from the sky, like snowflakes falling across the rooftop.
Where was the student?
Why had they disappeared?
She had seen them walk in with her own eyes.
Hua Huai circled the rooftop, but still couldn’t find any trace of the student.
She remembered the thing she had spoken with in the meditation room, and her hands and feet turned icy.
No.
Stay calm. Stay calm!
She didn’t think she had triggered the Anomaly’s killing rule. She couldn’t scare herself for no reason.
The papers drifting down from the sky seemed to have writing on them.
She picked one up to look at it. It was a suicide note.
“I want to live. I really do, but living here is worse than death.
I’m afraid to see the Instructors, afraid to see the teachers, and even afraid to see my own parents.
I’ve become someone I don’t recognize. I wish I had Corrosion Ability, so I could corrode myself and leave no trace.
I know that’s impossible.
All I can do is rot helplessly in the dirt until I’m unrecognizable.
Goodbye, Mom and Dad. It’s impossible to say I don’t resent you from the bottom of my heart.
But this suicide note probably won’t reach you, so let me vent my feelings in this final moment.
I resent every one of you!!!”
The strokes of the final sentence had pierced the paper, revealing deep resentment and bitterness.
Hua Huai’s hand shook, and the suicide note slipped from her grasp.
In front, behind, to the left, to the right—
Everywhere lay identical suicide notes. The handwriting and the force that had pierced the paper were exactly the same—not something a printer could reproduce.
What did it mean to resent everyone?
Was she one of the targets, too?
Hua Huai looked at the iron door to the rooftop. It was still open.
She felt a little relieved and hoped she could leave the rooftop alive.
She took one step at a time toward the iron door, afraid it might suddenly slam shut with a deafening bang.