It was a standard graduation photo, nothing out of the ordinary. Everyone stood neatly in formation. The smiles of the faceless students, however, were twisted ones formed from scrunched flesh, the sight of which would send chills crawling up one’s spine.
The girl in the last row only had one eye, half a nose, and half a mouth remaining.
She looked at the lens. The line of her lips was lifted in feigned happiness, yet her eyes contained so much despair it was practically brimming over.
Zong Jiu noticed the girl’s wrists were laced with shocking scars, both new and old. It was immediately apparent they were caused by self-harm.
Combined with the diary obtained before, this photograph was no doubt also a valuable clue.
The white-haired Magician’s slender fingers slowly stroked the graduation photo.
He didn’t say a word, nor did he inform anyone, but silently kept the photo in his pocket.
—
The emergence of faceless students had the whole cohort of B-rank trainees the most on edge they’ve been thus far.
Especially after the system confirmed those who were faceless couldn’t return to the trainee dormitories. Now, everyone understands the gravity of this transformation.
In horror instances, even if your mind collapsed, the system would haul the trainee back to the dormitories for forced electroconvulsive therapy as long as one was still breathing.
The system’s treatment was much more powerful than medical treatment in the real world, especially for insanity. With just a sweep of electricity, those haywire nerves in the brain would all be linked back to normal, just like the D-rank trainee who was treated after coming out of the punishment instance.
Now, however, when faced with this trainee who had become a faceless person, the system expressly refused to accept it.
This situation was only possible if the trainee was no longer deemed a trainee.
An example of this was in zombie and post-apocalyptic themed horror instances, wherein the system wouldn’t allow a trainee to return to the infinite loop if he wasn’t injected with the serum in time and completely reduced to being a zombie.
The mutual point therein was the system defined them as having lost their humanity.
Doubtlessly, this was terrifying news, only worsened by the fact no one knew how the faceless trainee came to be.
It was this sole trainee who had turned faceless, with no others to be used in drawing any conclusive similarities. All that could be discerned was a vague list of possible factors such as ‘poor academic performance’, ‘seemingly shut out’, and ‘buried in his studies day and night’.
In just one day, with no more than a quick browse through the teaching material distributed thus far, the faceless trainee skyrocketed from penultimate in his class to first in the year, achieving near-perfect scores in every subject. It wouldn’t even be an exaggeration to call it a miracle.
As for the trainee in question, he’d undoubtedly lost his individuality, becoming a ‘perfect machine’ produced by First High School, receiving effusive praise from the principal at morning assembly not only for his perfection but also for his loss of personality.
This however was undeniably a blessing to the affected class, because the faceless trainees’ score was twice higher than Van Zhuo’s.
His ascension from the penultimate in the class to the first in the year raised the average score of Class 7 significantly, and Class 7 instantly cruised from the bottom of the nine classes to the middle.
Further, the faceless trainees’ performance was very stable, managing to get consistent scores in two consecutive weekly quizzes. It was impossible for him to underperform.
Gradually, the discussion died down not only in the cohort but also within Class 7.
The faceless trainee had previously been subject to cold treatment and disdain in the class. He also wasn’t affiliated to any organisation and his strength just barely made the B-rank cut. The only one more familiar with him was Liang Mingde, who had first noticed the abnormality in him, but that was only limited to small chit chat.
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.
Even if something happened to someone like this, no one would truly feel saddened for him, let alone try to find a way to reverse it.
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The trainees were all going crazy from studying.
Not only did they walk with their noses buried in books, but they also slept with their noses buried in books. A day spanned twenty-four hours. Eliminating the time spent asleep, every second was dedicated to cramming.
Even then, what if there still wasn’t enough time? Then their only choice was to allow studying to eat into their sleeping hours. Apart from the half-vampires, most trainees had dark eye bags draped under their eyes, turning them into giant pandas.
No longer did anyone care if they were caught by the hostel’s caretaker. Even if they were, all they had to do was get dressed and bring their papers and pens with them to the corridors, working on questions while standing outside in punishment, reluctant to waste a single second.
Of the nine classes in the year, six were still short of 600 marks.
Of these six classes, Class 9 was still nearly fifty marks short of 600.
Only eight days remained until the midterm exam, yet so many classes had yet to cross the bar. The fear and despair these trainees felt were soul-crushing.
If it were a slightly lower-ranked trainee, they would’ve probably had a mental breakdown.
What was more dreadful was the teaching director actually praised them with a smile at the morning assembly for being promising—for not only did a student make the right choice so early, but up till now there wasn’t yet a single student who had succumbed to their mind and chosen suicide.
B-rank trainees were veterans who had been through trials and tribulations in the infinite loop, yet at this time, all of them felt that even though there were no supernatural sightings in this instance, it was the scariest and most oppressive instance they had ever been in.
The last weekly quiz before the midterms was tomorrow.
When Zong Jiu returned to the hostel for a shower, he’d inadvertently overheard Class 5’s monitor conversing with another class monitor.
“Not only did Class 7 lose a dead weight, but they’d also even acquired a heavy hitter who can knock out almost perfect scores. Isn’t turning faceless quite neat?”
“If you ask me, I can’t wait for the bottom-feeder trash of our classes to turn as well.”
Zong Jiu’s brows furrowed.
Of the class monitors in room 101, it was Class 5’s monitor who was more radical.
He was not the strongest B-rank trainee overall, but he had the best exam results and was thinking of taking this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to wipe out more of his future competitors.
High-ranking trainees usually consider the long game.
Since only a hundred could debut in the future, this implied the system would either cut trainees down to a hundred in the previous instances or refine the evaluation to rank the top 100 and then obliterate those who didn’t make the cut.
Taking that into perspective, all other trainees were competitors. So instead of clashing head-on in the future, why not use this excellent opportunity to make the first move?
Even from the initial proposal to submit blank scripts, Class 5’s monitor showed clear signs of being remiss in his duties.
It was during this time that Class 5’s monitor noticed the white-haired young man who had just come out of the bathroom.
Having washed his hair, Zong Jiu’s long white hair rested loosely on his shoulders, wetting the towel on his shoulders, turning it a slightly darker shade.
He was thin and slender, with no visible fat or bulk, and due to the lack of pigment, his skin was so white it almost appeared to shine.
Perhaps the water was too hot, but his face, which was already beautiful to begin with, was suffused with a beguiling blush. It was as though a painter had dipped a brush in rouge and swept a wide stroke across, before grudgingly setting down the brush.
Class 5’s monitor stared fixedly at him and only came back to his senses after contempt appeared on Zong Jiu’s face.
As if to cover up his momentary distraction, he muttered viciously, “What the hell are you looking at? Am I wrong? We’re already in the infinite loop, there’s no point in playing saints.”
It was only after saying this did the class monitor process what he did, instinctively recoiling in his head.
Let alone that the Magician was a newcomer recently on the rise, he was also on close terms with No. 2 Van Zhuo, looked well upon by No. 1, and received a personal invitation from the Night Clan. This guy was most certainly not someone any B-rank would wish to offend.
Zong Jiu coldly said, “I wasn’t looking at you, but your yapping is grating on my ears.”
The previous recoil instantly dissipated to nothing. This look of disgust and disdain thoroughly inflamed Class 5’s monitor.
“Who do you think you are? How dare a newcomer be so arrogant? Don’t think you can do whatever you want just because you received favour from him.”
In the next second, a poker card crackled through the air with the thump of a book spine on a table surface.
The paper card ripped harshly through the air, unerringly leaving a shallow but long slice of blood on the Class 5’s monitor’s cheek.
A cold, flat male voice befell at the split second it embedded into the wall behind him.
“So noisy.”
Not far away, the Dark Warlock, cloaked in black robes, pressed down the book he was reading, his handsome side profile abnormally inhuman under the dim light.
Looking over, that pair of green eyes narrowed, easily reminiscent of the hazy aurora in the cold Arctic. Yet for some reason, it gradually overlapped with an unrelated pair of dark golden irises in Zong Jiu’s mind.
Zong Jiu felt he was truly being a bit paranoid.
He’d even verified with the Tarot Deck not long ago that the Dark Warlock wasn’t being manipulated by the Devil.
Back when No. 5 Black-Robed Azan was manipulated, the Devil was being a wily old fox and borrowed Lin Guoxing’s body to bait the enemy and pull the pity card. Only then did he manage to implant a puppet string on No. 5.
Whereas in this instance, the Dark Warlock hadn’t received any injury. Furthermore, it had only been a month. No. 1 wasn’t so almighty to be able to achieve this step within this short period.
In actuality, the most important reason was Zong Jiu staunchly believed No. 1 wouldn’t be so kind as to help him out.
Though he didn’t know why the Devil had abruptly abandoned the idea of killing him, he wouldn’t be so naive as to think the Devil would never deal a fatal blow to him in the future.
It was annoying, even more so than their I-won’t-rest-easy-unless-you-die spar they had going on previously.
It was painless, but No. 1’s presence lurked like a nagging itch through the day, as though just trying to find ways to make him unhappy. The killing intent was sheathed, yet this behaviour was so obnoxiously like teasing a beloved pet, filled with condescending affection from start to end.
Given Zong Jiu’s pride, it would be absurd for him to stand for it.
The vengeful him had long sworn deep down to put thrashing the Devil on his daily agenda, vowing to make sure No. 1 will experience exactly how it feels to eat his words and be beaten up.
The moment the Dark Warlock spoke, Class 5’s monitor instantly wussed out and didn’t dare to say anything, scuttling out of the room with his tail between his legs.
Zong Jiu lazily dried his hair, only then turning his head to quietly mutter a word of thanks.
To this thanks, No. 8 gave no response.
The inky green gaze swept apathetically over him and fell back on the book in his hand.
This familiar, indifferent gaze assured Zong Jiu there wasn’t any need for him to waste another Tarot draw.
Silence was restored to the room, yet strangely, there was no rustling of turning pages.
With his back to the Dark Warlock, the white-haired Magician was oblivious to the fact he’d overlooked a vital piece of information.
Zhuge An had once told him the soul invasion upon implantation of the Devil’s fifth puppet string didn’t transform the victim into a manifestation of the Devil himself. To adhere to reason, those who were completely manipulated could still retain their personality traits. After being manipulated, one’s personality remained the same as the host’s but became manipulated by a higher-powered consciousness so no flaws could be exposed by obvious changes in personality.
This was also why No. 1’s ability was so indomitable, because unless the puppets he manipulated slipped up on their own, it would be very difficult for bystanders to notice any peculiarities, let alone the person being manipulated themselves.
Just like Messiah was.
Despite this, whether it was due to being too busy studying lately or a cog in his brain being jammed, Zong Jiu didn’t give it more thought.
Translated by 🎏
Edited by Ashen, snoflakesun
a/n. Jiu Jiu: No. 1 isn’t that almighty to be able to achieve this step so quickly.
No. 1: Oh? (arches brow)
Ashen’s Meme Corner
Well, he is that almighty
He is not almighty, but he’s almighty beautiful
Thank you for new chapter
Why yes, I think No. 1 very much enjoys taunting and teasing ZJ as if he is his beloved pet just so he can watch ZJ hiss like a riled up kitten.
thank you for the chapter!
since no-faced monsters aren’t people anymore, why don’t they kill them and make the class score get back to normal?
btw class leader 5 is acting too much like a cannon fodder, face-slapping is coming for sure
The classroom scores are barely high enough to survive the next test. Each classroom is on the line. The faceless student has the best score in the entire school. He brought his class from fail to pass. Maybe after the test…
Thanks for the chapter! 🤣❤️
Thanks for your hard work! 💕
Thank you for the update ❤️💯
Someone is having his fun watching a ZJ fresh out of the shower >3
Thx for the ch ٩( >ヮ<)۶
No.1 is indeed an almighty person. If not, how can he be number 1?
Ah, I knew someone was gonna suggest turning more bottom ranking students into faceless ones.
I KNEW IT. This Dark WarLock guy was sus
Djdjdjdjshdhdb not the meme of no face chasing our MC 😆😆😆 I choked on my coffee
What if messiah and no. 8 r cooperating with no. 1 but idk just a wild guess