The remaining students alive in the classroom had their adrenaline spiked once again by this scene, screaming as they bolted outside. In an instant, the situation descended into utter chaos.
Lin Chubai’s group didn’t waste any time either. When a tentacle lunged to grab someone once more, Song Siyun slammed his hand onto the ground. An earth shield rose up, colliding with the tentacle and emitting a sharp metallic clanging sound.
In an instant, the dust and smoke generated by the collapsing earth shield billowed through the air, but the shockwave produced at the very final moment blasted the tentacle backward, instantly cutting off its frantic, maniacal laughter.
Seeing that Ruan Ling had regained her wits and had the intention to run outside, Lin Chubai grabbed Nan Zhi’s hand and sprinted outward, while Ye Zhou, who had been standing behind everyone the whole time, naturally took on the rear guard.
A charred squid smell drifted into everyone’s nostrils. Lin Chubai looked back to see the residual sparks still flickering in Ye Zhou’s hands and the severed, burned tentacle lying on the ground.
Black wings burst open behind Ye Zhou, and with a light leap, he vaulted over the railing, gliding down from the fourth floor.
The fleeing students ahead noticed Lin Chubai stop in his tracks and gaze down from the railing. Gradually, they also halted, clustered around him, and leaned over the railing to look.
In the center of the small garden stood a chubby boy with tentacles flailing wildly around him. A ferocious grin twisted his face as he stared at Ye Zhou flying toward him, the wind whipped up by his four tentacles tearing through the air and thrusting straight toward Ye Zhou’s chest.
Ye Zhou shifted slightly to the side to dodge the fatal tentacle, but the fleeing people behind him bore the brunt of it, instantly being impaled straight through.
Flames condensed into gorgeous, blooming flowers bursting from Ye Zhou’s hands, showering the ground with orange-red petals as they lunged toward the chubby boy’s face with wide, devouring jaws.
Suddenly, two new tentacles sprouted from the chubby boy’s back, shooting out horizontally to block the attack and turning into charred squid, while the remaining four twisted around to thrust forward again.
Emerald vines swept past the sycamore leaves to collide with the tentacles, tightly binding the ones lunging back. Lin Chubai was yanked completely airborne by the immense force, only to be hauled back down by the quick-handed Song Siyun and Nan Zhi.
Gritting his teeth, Lin Chubai fought against the tentacle’s strength. With a crisp pop, the vines binding the tentacle snapped in half within three seconds. Affected by the violent recoil, he felt a wave of nausea and spat out saliva mixed with a trace of blood.
However, that was enough. Ye Zhou quickly readjusted, pulling out the dagger carried at his waist, and with a clean, flawless slash, neatly slit the chubby boy’s throat.
The previously beast-like tentacles, following their master’s demise, went limp and thrashed aimlessly a few times before dropping to the ground and dissolving into white clothes.
Indifferently wiping the blood from the corner of his mouth, Lin Chubai led the group downward. As they reached the second-floor stair landing, he suddenly felt a malicious gaze piercing into his back.
He whipped his head around to look, but saw nothing at all, which only startled the person behind him, who hastily asked what was wrong.
Lin Chubai didn’t answer; he just shook his head and continued downward.
“Zhou Wei, S-rank skill. Every person killed grows one more tentacle, and its flexibility and hardness increase accordingly, up to a maximum of twelve.” Ye Zhou’s dark brown eyes stared intently at the tentacles on the ground, his expression slightly heavy, making his already sharp-angled face look even more intimidating.
This was also what the system had told him: whenever a player was killed, the player’s information would be made public.
“He’s a retention student at our school, held back for two years. He usually likes to collect protection money and bully others.” Nan Zhi, who had remained silent until now, finally remembered who the chubby boy was.
A heavy atmosphere permeated the air. Lin Chubai couldn’t help but recall the collapse of the dormitory building; a chill went through his heart, and an ominous premonition enveloped him.
If villains all possessed S-rank skills, the upcoming situation would become absolute hell. By then, dying wouldn’t just mean perishing within the game; people would end up dying at the hands of their own kind before even entering.
He shook his head slightly, as if trying to fling away the cluster of conspiracy theories in his mind, and slowly squatted down to look at Ruan Ling, who was cowering behind Nan Zhi.
Looking at the little girl, who was roughly the same age as his own sister and even half a head shorter, he truly couldn’t bear to leave her behind here alone. “Kiddo, what are you planning to do?”
“Looking for my brother.” The pure, ethereal voice dispersed the heavy atmosphere. Ye Zhou regained his focus, his expression softening slightly.
“Will your brother come back here to look for you?” Lin Chubai pondered the possibility that her brother might still be alive.
Meanwhile, Song Siyun, standing nearby, looked as though his soul had left his body, raising an eyebrow as he stared at Lin Chubai being as gentle as water.
He had only ever heard Lin Chubai use this kind of tone when Nan Zhi was very young, and hadn’t heard it at all in recent years.
Especially after that incident.
“I don’t know.” Ruan Ling lowered her head to stare at her shoes, having no idea whether her brother would come look for her or not.
“Then do you want to come with us?” Lin Chubai extended the invitation, asking if she would follow them.
Hearing this, the little girl fell silent, raising her head to look at Nan Zhi’s face.
“Will you break my hands and feet and make me beg for food? Or will you sell me?” Ruan Ling drew a sharp breath as if making a desperate gamble, spilling everything on her mind in one go before deflating like a punctured ball. “My brother said that if strangers want to take me away, they are human traffickers.”
Lin Chubai thought to himself that her reasoning was quite something.
“Pfft, hahahahahahaha.” Song Siyun burst out in loud laughter, slapping Lin Chubai’s shoulder as he laughed. The previous heavy atmosphere vanished completely, and even the gloom on Ye Zhou’s face quietly dissipated as the corners of his mouth curved upward.
“Then, then what about my brother?!” The little girl’s cheeks flushed bright red from being laughed at, and she hurriedly spoke up.
“You can come with us first, and we’ll help you look for him.” Song Siyun chimed in.
Lin Chubai cast a disapproving glance at Song Siyun. It wasn’t that he felt easy about leaving the little girl alone, but rather that he feared making a promise now and being unable to fulfill it.
Yet Song Siyun didn’t care about all that; accustomed to being carefree, he just said whatever came to mind.
“Let’s move out first.” Ye Zhou motioned for him to look up.
On the four-story teaching building, twenty to thirty children lined the railings, looking at them with wide, hopeful eyes. A few braver ones even wanted to walk over toward their side, but upon catching sight of Nan Zhi, they inexplicably retreated back.
Hearing this, Lin Chubai stopped agonizing over it. He didn’t want to acquire a whole train of little tails, so he took Nan Zhi’s hand and started walking forward.
“Decide for yourself. If you are coming, keep up.” His tone returned to its usual calmness and composure.
Just as they walked out of the school gates, the sound of pattering footsteps came from behind. A small hand stealthily slipped into Lin Chubai’s palm, gently gripping two of his well-articulated fingers as if terrified of being shaken off: “I will go with you.”
Seeing this scene, Ye Zhou didn’t know what crossed his mind, but a slight smile flickered on his face. However, the moment sharp-eyed Lin Chubai glanced over, it vanished as quickly as a face-changing mask in Sichuan opera.
However, shortly after stepping outside the school gates, the sound of scampering footsteps arose behind them again. Looking back, they saw a whole cluster of little ones.
The one running the fastest tugged on the hem of Lin Chubai’s shirt: “Mister, can you help me find my mommy too?”
Before Lin Chubai could reply, more and more children surrounded them, numbering seven in total. The oldest looked about eleven or twelve, while the youngest were around six or seven.