Black Impermanence?
The moment Bian Ying joined the Investigation Bureau, Zhou Haizhi practically shoved her head into the general guidelines and forced her to memorize them.
Afterward, he made her organize various archives and documents, so she had naturally heard of this ultra-high-risk Deceit incident.
The Deceit codenamed “Black Impermanence” was one of the ultra-high-risk Deceits that had descended upon Blue Star so far.
However, the file Bian Ying had access to contained only a brief, seventeen-word description of Black Impermanence:
[Reaping souls and claiming lives, the Grim Reaper passes.
Tens of thousands fall, the Southern Border in peril.]
To think that Zhou Haizhi was actually the sole survivor of that Deceit incident?!
A seasoned office slacker who spent every day preaching to his subordinates and kissing up to his superiors actually had this kind of skill?
Bian Ying’s gaze was so burning that Zhou Haizhi found it hard to ignore.
He twitched the corner of his mouth and said in annoyance, “Alright, stop wasting time.
I can smell the stench of blood growing stronger in the air.”
“To think our leader has the nose of a bloodhound!”
“…Bian Ying, are you insulting me?”
“How could I?
I’m praising you.” Bian Ying’s face was the picture of innocence.
Zhou Haizhi chuckled dryly.
He waved his hand.
“You two go on.
Don’t worry about me.”
His breathing had steadied and the bleeding had stopped, though the bloody holes in his body still looked horrifying.
Given Zhou Haizhi’s current condition, he couldn’t move around too much anyway.
Bian Ying could only nod.
“Group Leader, I’ll come back for you once this is settled.”
Zhou Haizhi gave a weak hum of acknowledgment.
“Get the merit.”
“…Understood.” Bian Ying was somewhat speechless.
For her leader to remind her of this even at a time like this, wasn’t he being a bit too dedicated to his job?
After leaving the woods, Tan Linyan and Bian Ying rushed toward the sports field.
The closer they got, the more pungent and overpowering the stench of blood became.
Dark clouds gathered in the sky, casting a gloomy pall over the earth.
Massive patches of blood mottled the ground, and countless corpses lay scattered, their identities completely indistinguishable.
It was a gruesome, devastating scene of bodies littering the field.
Screams rose and fell in succession, accompanied by desperate weeping.
“Help!”
“I don’t want to die, please, I don’t want to die…”
“Mom, Dad, I was wrong!
I’ll never be rebellious again.”
“Someone, please save me…”
Tan Linyan’s eyes were nearly dyed red by the bloody scene before him.
He steadied his mind and activated his Superpower.
HUM.
By manipulating gravity over a massive area, both the mind-controlled students and the pursuing Deceits were suddenly frozen in mid-air by an invisible force.
“The captain is here!”
“Thank God!”
“Counterattack, everyone counterattack!”
It wasn’t just the first squad members; upon seeing this, the students who were on the verge of being swallowed by despair felt their suppressed anger completely ignite.
They stood up shakily and, regardless of what weapons they held in their hands, blindly stabbed at the nearest Deceits.
“Die!
Die!”
Bian Ying watched the scene unfold in silence.
She wondered why, despite it clearly being her first time experiencing such a tragic situation, she felt hardly any emotional turbulence.
It was as if she had been through scenarios far more horrific than this, yet she knew perfectly well that she didn’t have amnesia.
The memories of the past twenty-plus years were clearly imprinted in her mind.
“Ugh.”
Tan Linyan let out a muffled groan.
As Bian Ying looked over, his body trembled and he suddenly coughed up a mouthful of blood.
Controlling gravity over such a large area had placed an unbearable load on his body, and he was fast approaching his limit.
Bian Ying supported Tan Linyan, who staggered and nearly fell.
She then looked ahead at the principal, who stood calmly on the rostrum observing the carnage, his eight tentacles stretching out brazenly over the school rules.
“Senior, wait for me here.”
“Bian—”
Tan Linyan wanted to stop her, but darkness assailed his vision.
Once he lost her physical support, those ravings flared up in his mind again, chilling and bizarre.
He knew he couldn’t give up.
He bit down hard on his lower lip and summoned his Deceitful Device, Zan Chen.
The Zan Chen blade normally gleamed with golden light, but right now, wisps of ominous black mist seeped from it.
Tan Linyan barely managed to steady his posture by leaning on the long blade.
He tried to take a step forward, but an urgent and violent alarm flared in his brain.
The veins bulged on his temples, forcefully compelling him to stop.
“First squad, please respond if you copy!
Please respond!”
“Is anyone still alive?”
“The power on this high-risk Deceit is continuously strengthening.
The Investigation Bureau has sent reinforcements!”
“Third squad is in position!”
“Fourth squad is on the way…”
Reinforcements had arrived?
Tan Linyan was stunned.
The metallic taste of blood surged in his throat as he desperately suppressed the agonizing pain that made his brain feel like it was about to explode.
“First squad, Tan Linyan, copy.”
The long blade cleansed the corruption, scattering the black mist.
Tan Linyan walked resolutely toward the rostrum.
This time, he would not stay rooted to the spot, waiting for her to save him.
***
Under the cover of the bloody storm, Bian Ying successfully approached the rostrum.
“Principal.”
He had let her go, yet she had unexpectedly pursued him anyway.
The Eight Evils was still busy disciplining that disobedient tentacle and paid absolutely no mind to Bian Ying.
In its eyes, she had merely gotten lucky.
Staring intently at Bian Ying with those inhuman, eerie eyes, the principal spoke calmly, “You shouldn’t have come here.
I let you go.”
Bian Ying pointed at the people being hunted down below.
“Then why didn’t you let them go?”
“They are students of Wuhai University; they are rightfully my responsibility.” The principal spoke with absolute self-righteousness.
“Only when the students are obedient will the campus become beautiful and free from any danger.”
Bian Ying suddenly laughed.
“As a principal, you are indeed very responsible.
But as a father…
did you do your duty?”
“Shut up.” The principal narrowed his eyes slightly.
“I am making up for my daughter’s mistakes right now.
In the future, there will be no more harm at Wuhai University.”
“Do you really think so?” Bian Ying asked in a surprised tone.
“Do you think this is entirely Lin Zhiyu’s fault?
Are you entirely blameless yourself?”
“…What fault do I have?” The principal paused.
A trace of anger and indignation was faintly woven into his tone.
“From the time she was young, everything I gave her was the absolute best.
I provided her with the best education, spent exorbitant amounts of money cultivating her hobbies and interests, pulled all sorts of strings to get her into competitions, and helped her win countless honors…”
“Oh, so your daughter was just a String Puppet in your hands,” Bian Ying interrupted him nonchalantly.
The principal choked on his words.
His tone grew increasingly impatient and fraught with danger.
“What do you know?!
I only have one daughter, and I poured all my love into her!”
But how had his daughter repaid him?
She cut classes and skipped school, dyed her hair like a delinquent, lingered in bars, stayed out all night…
and ultimately got addicted to drugs!
“I truly don’t understand,” Bian Ying agreed, shrugging her shoulders.
As an orphan without a father or mother, she wouldn’t have the chance to understand even if she wanted to.
Her tone then took a sharp turn, suddenly turning cutting and severe.
“But I know one thing very clearly.
If the temptations Lin Zhiyu encountered were the true culprits, then you were an accomplice.”
Blindly protecting her and forcefully micromanaging her life would only result in a Lin Zhiyu who craved freedom even more.