Chapter 42

Jiang Suliu looked at Yue Yin, who blinked at him with an innocent expression.

Her features were delicate, her gaze clear and pure, with round almond-shaped eyes that made her look like an innocent, sweet girl to anyone who saw her.

Yue Yin, however, didn’t actually remember how many people she killed yesterday, nor did she know if Li Shushu’s parents—whom she had never met—were among them.

But as Jiang Suliu had suspected, it was more than likely her handiwork.

After all, as the saying goes, “Boys remain boys until death, and dark gods are forever innocent!” As long as there were no witnesses, she hadn’t done a thing.

Yue Yin wasn’t like those overconfident villains on TV, eager to shout their crimes to the world. She preferred to play the clueless fool, blending in as others discussed the cult-related murders, nodding along as if she were just another person swayed by the heated opinions around her.

Just like now—after Zhang Boshui and Chen Ping’s intense debate, both looked at her with disdain and doubt, clearly thinking she was a fool.

Who could know that she was actually the mastermind? These clueless idiots, completely in the dark.

Thinking of this, Yue Yin gave her dimwitted classmates a sincere smile.

Zhang Boshui and Chen Ping looked even more bewildered, turning back to each other and whispering, “Why is Yue Yin smiling? Do you think she’s actually got something wrong with her?”

“How should I know! But I gotta admit, her smile is kind of cute.”

“Right? Now I totally get why Jiang Suliu has a soft spot for her!”

“Just look at how Jiang Suliu watches her—all gentle and exasperated.”

“Oh, I see it now! This is his type! Complex character vibes, a unique love story—like the campus genius and his clueless goddess… I’m totally shipping this. Hang on, where are you going?”

“I’m off to post on the forum, I’m calling dibs on this ship! I’ll be the original shipper of this twisted pairing!”

As Zhang Boshui and his seatmate continued their mutterings, Yue Yin, unaware of their rapidly spiraling thoughts, was quietly pleased with her superb acting skills.

Jiang Suliu looked at the group with resigned patience, already understanding it all.

In the classroom, the desk that had belonged to Li Shushu was being moved out.

The man moving her things looked to be in his thirties, with hair mostly gray. He was thin and wore simple work clothes, his features still recognizable as handsome.

He was Li Shushu’s uncle.

Li Shushu’s parents had died the previous day, the official report attributing their deaths to their involvement in the cult, leading them to commit suicide alongside their daughter. Li Shushu’s biological mother had cut ties with the family years ago and refused to come forward when notified of the news.

Her grandparents had also long passed, leaving only her estranged uncle, who hadn’t spoken to his brother in years, to take care of the family’s final affairs.

The man’s expression remained blank each time he entered and exited the classroom. It was hard to tell if he was numb or simply at peace. As the students around him fiercely discussed Li Shushu’s family’s deaths, he remained silent, emotionless as he packed up her books, notes, pens, rulers, a small mirror, and hair clips—all the belongings of a high school girl.

As he left the school, carrying a box with his niece’s belongings, he recalled the homeroom teacher’s words: “What a shame. She was a top student and likely would have made it into University A.”

“University A…” The man’s gaze drifted toward the street, bringing him back to a summer ten years ago.

He had once wept as he fled his family, after seeing unimaginable horrors, leaving behind his own acceptance letter from University A, which went unclaimed, left behind at the school forever.

Expressionless, he emptied the box into a trash bin as he passed by, paying no mind to the textbooks, mirrors, and other items scattering among the rubbish.

His phone buzzed again—it was the funeral home, calling him to handle his late brother and sister-in-law’s belongings.

Walking on, his thoughts wandered back years ago.

As a child, he had envied his older brother, the chosen one in their family, a source of pride for their parents.

It wasn’t until he watched his family one by one step into darkness, diverging so far from his own path, that he realized their so-called god was the true source of all evil.

Just as he was about to leave, he noticed a group of people hurrying by, their eyes darting about as if searching for something.

“What’s going on? I was still working in City C when the president urgently summoned me to City A to meet up.”

“I think almost ten A-level users from the society are gathered here. Why would the president make us drop everything to watch a student?”

“Stop asking questions that shouldn’t be asked.”

“Do you see them? Those are A-level users from the Paranormal Incident Management Squad.”

They chatted openly, apparently unconcerned about others overhearing. As they brushed past him, the man paused, realizing what they had said and looking around, noticing more people lingering suspiciously outside the school.

He sneered silently at them.

Just like his brother and niece, they saw themselves as “chosen ones.” In reality, they were nothing more than pitiful puppets, busying themselves for some vague and sinister existence.

…

Paranormal Incident Management Department.

Inside the office, Bo Jingyun sat in his chair, raising an eyebrow at his guest. “I recall President Zhou once making a solemn vow never to step outside of City B unless the nation required it.”

With an idle gaze, he looked the other over and smiled. “So, what changed? It’s been less than three years, and now you’ve broken your vow to lie low?”

“Are you incapable of speaking without that pompous tone, huh?” said his guest, a small boy of about seven or eight, who took off his sunglasses to reveal a mature, raspy voice. “You know perfectly well why I swore to stay put. That crazy woman had me running like a dog back then. Don’t think I didn’t know that you were secretly laughing at your father.”

The boy looked no more than five feet tall, but his voice was unmistakably that of an adult man with a deep, gravelly tone.

With an indifferent smile, the Vice Minister replied, “Zhou Jingshen, your mouth is as foul as ever.”

He knew well enough why Zhou Jingshen had made his vow. This guy had been chased halfway across the globe by two other Class-S operatives and only managed to escape back to the country. Finally, after state intervention, Zhou Jingshen swore to stay quietly in City B, avoiding trouble.

The boy slapped the desk, standing up, pointing at the Vice Minister as he yelled, “A foul mouth is better than you, you pretentious show-off! To hell with you! I can’t stand pretentious people!”

The Vice Minister lifted his tea cup, letting the steam rise as he spoke coolly, “That mouth of yours will be the death of you someday.”

Standing up abruptly, Zhou Jingshen snapped, “Cut the crap. Stop putting on airs. I came to verify—is that rumor true?”

The Vice Minister simply smiled, not offering any confirmation. “President Zhou, with your vast network, surely your sources can inform you. Why would I need to confirm anything?”

Zhou propped his leg on the desk, sneering, “Stop pretending. I’ve got spies in the Paranormal Incident Management Department, and you think you don’t have any informants in our Metaphysical Society?”

Unperturbed, the Vice Minister replied, “You overestimate me, President Zhou. Your society is a tight-knit family, with a legacy spanning centuries. How could I possibly infiltrate it?”

Zhou wasn’t buying it. The Metaphysical Society might look unified on the outside, but within, there was no shortage of people with divided loyalties and hidden agendas.

Suddenly, Zhou leaned forward, his sharp gaze fixed on the Vice Minister. “Enough games. Tell me straight—has an S-rank ability user really emerged in City A?”

The Vice Minister took a final sip of tea, then, almost amused, set his cup down. “Why the rush?” he replied. “There’s plenty more to worry about yet.”

Zhou paced, exasperated. “Of course I’m in a hurry. An S-rank in City A means trouble. Don’t forget— City A was supposed to be our last—”

He was about to continue when the Vice Minister cut him off sternly, “Zhou Jingshen!”

Zhou fell silent under the Vice Minister’s intense gaze, calming himself. He refrained from disclosing their secret and casually muttered, “Why so tense, you pompous—”

The Vice Minister held Zhou’s gaze, speaking with clear intent, “No matter who we serve or what personal motives we hold, our hopes and goals for humanity’s future remain aligned.”

A tense silence filled the office until the arrival of Captain Li and the others, who had been dispatched to report on the investigation at First High School. Breaking the silence, the Vice Minister calmly dismissed Zhou, “My subordinates are back. If there’s nothing else, you may leave.”

Zhou rose with a smirk, hands in pockets, heading toward the door. Just before leaving, he paused, throwing a look back. “You’re mistaken,” he said.

The Vice Minister looked up, intrigued. Zhou’s young face was etched with a mocking expression. “Our hopes and goals are not aligned.”

He turned, put on his sunglasses, and walked out. As he left the office, a message came in from his subordinate, confirming that they had identified the S-rank user.

The report was blunt: “She’s the adopted daughter of the Shen family—goes by the name Yue Yin.”

“And who’s her god? The Taoist Patriarch? Nyx? Nodens?”

“The Thousand-Faced Moon. She claims to be a follower of the Thousand-Faced Moon.”

Outside, a black luxury Bentley waited, surrounded by burly bodyguards in suits. Zhou squatted on the ground, clutching his head in mock agony. “The Thousand-Faced Moon? Never heard of it. Don’t tell me it’s another one of those fake gods like that idiot from the Life Association .”

In all honesty, he didn’t have the patience for another false god.

“We did some digging. Rumor has it, this one’s a god who brings eternal suffering.”

…

As the conversation ended, Zhou fell into deep thought, climbed into the Bentley. Before the car pulled away from the Paranormal Incident Management Department, he looked back toward the Vice Minister’s office and mulled over his final words before leaving.

He’d wanted to tell the Vice Minister that, unlike him, Zhou didn’t have any optimism for humanity’s future. As far as he was concerned, the world was doomed.

Meanwhile, Yue Yin felt much the same.

Several A-rank ability users were stationed around the school, keeping close watch on her every move. Lowering her head over a book, Yue Yin silently wished she could just disappear.

The teacher at the front of the room announced, “I’ll now be calling on two students randomly to recite yesterday’s assigned passage.”

Yue Yin’s head shot up in horror. What passage?

She had dumped all her holiday homework on Jiang Suliu, assuming she’d be off the hook. Who would’ve guessed that there’d be vocabulary and classical Chinese texts to memorize?

Wait, why didn’t anyone tell her this was so important?!

The teacher began selecting students, and Yue Yin hid behind her book, silently pleading, “Please don’t see me. Please don’t see me.”

The A-rank agents observing from afar muttered, “…How did this underachiever end up in this class?”

Whether it was her guilty expression or her recent absences, Yue Yin soon heard her name called, “Yue Yin!”

“Stand up and recite the passage.”

With a blank expression, Yue Yin rose, her face filled with an intense urge to curse the entire world.