At that moment, the classroom door suddenly opened. Every freshman fell silent at once.
But the person who entered was not Ediv. He was a lean, wiry old man with dark skin, a hunched back, and a completely shaved head that gleamed beneath the incandescent lights.
His steps were light. He wore old-fashioned cloth shoes from the previous century and a loose velvet martial-arts jacket fastened with gold frog closures.
In one hand he held a black thermos with chipped paint around the rim, and a laptop bag hung from his elbow. Seeing the entire class go quiet by reflex, he gave them an easy, friendly smile, deep laugh lines creasing the corners of his eyes.
If no one stated his identity, nobody would guess this was He Jing’en, dean of the College of Attribute Research and History.
When they realized it was not Ediv, the whole classroom relaxed.
He Jing’en set his cup on the lectern and said with a smile, “My name is He Jing’en. I’m dean of the Attribute College. Teacher Ediv has something urgent to attend to, so I’ll be teaching Introduction to Ability Attributes in his place today.”
Despite his small, dry appearance, his voice was strong and resonant, reaching every student clearly.
“What? Director Ediv isn’t coming?”
“Our Combat Department timetable doesn’t even have Introduction to Ability Attributes.”
“Wouldn’t having the dean teach be better?”
“You don’t understand. This dean has basically been on long-term medical retirement. He doesn’t manage anything. I heard he was isolated because he objected to the decades-long gap in the historical record. The Attribute College is basically under Director Ediv’s control now.”
“He doesn’t look sick…”
“Who knows.”
Lance withdrew his gaze from Zhan Pingchuan. That brief displeasure vanished almost immediately. Even though the two of them had done something similar to kissing last night—even tangling their tongues—Zhan Pingchuan was not his Alpha. He was only using Zhan Pingchuan to treat his pheromone disorder.
That was all.
Lance adjusted his glasses and turned his attention to the new instructor with interest.
Logically, the instant the Death-Oath Curse broke, senior federal officials should have known Ediv was dead. They must already have contacted the university and sent people to investigate.
With the federal government applying pressure, Xingzhou University’s leaders should have been nervous and hurried. Yet He Jing’en could still stand here cheerfully substituting for a class, showing not the slightest anxiety.
Either his composure was extraordinary and he never showed emotion—or…… he was very happy to hear Ediv was dead.
If it was the latter, things had just become interesting.
While Lance was thinking, someone suddenly tugged at his oversized uniform jacket, pulling the loose collar down from his shoulder. Laughter sounded behind him. “Bet you’re glad Director Ediv has something to do today, huh?”
Lance’s eyes turned cold. He glanced back from the corner of his eye.
The Alpha behind him wore a malicious grin and toyed with a utility knife, tilting his head smugly as he waggled his brows at Lance.
There were five hundred freshmen this year. Lance cared about virtually none of them. Coincidentally, however, he remembered this face. Last night, this was the student who had kicked over the mascot and sent Deng Zhi’s mother sprawling in the mud.
Lance looked forward again and casually rubbed his fingertips together.
A pity. With so many witnesses, he could not kill the man outright. But this life truly should not survive the day.
He needed a method that would kill him without implicating Lance.
In the first row, Zhan Pingchuan was losing interest.
His arrogant, unruly act had been put on for Ediv. With Ediv absent, the whole performance was wasted. Worse, a talkative little O beside him would not stop flirting.
He had not sacrificed sleep and meals to get into Xingzhou University just to come here and date.
“I don’t drink.” Zhan Pingchuan replied flatly without even properly looking at Tang Li. With his lowered eyes and irritated expression, he looked rather fierce.
Tang Li secretly stuck out his tongue. Zhan Pingchuan’s morning temper was terrifying. Whoever shared a room with him must have it rough.
He wanted to say more, but He Jing’en gently tapped the blackboard.
“Now then, we’ll officially begin. Please quiet down. If you need the slides for this class, you can download them from the university teaching system.”
People were like this. The fiercer someone looked, the more they respected and flattered them. The more pleasant and mild someone was, the more casually they were treated.
When He Jing’en finished speaking, the low rustling chatter barely decreased.
He merely shook his head and began the lecture anyway—
“Before discussing ability attributes, I should first introduce the history of the dungeons’ appearance.”
“A hundred years ago, the Sahara Desert suddenly experienced violent seismic activity. Satellite mapping revealed an enormous iron gate on the central plateau. Strange characters were carved on the gate, but they did not belong to the local nomadic peoples.”
“Research institutes from around the world therefore assembled an expedition and sent it into the Sahara for investigation. They entered that iron gate.”
He Jing’en paused, because this was precisely where the historical record broke off.
Although some people from that era were still alive, every relevant document had disappeared completely.
“In any case, humanity came to believe that dungeons are interfaces between Earth and some other world. They contain crystal ores, strange beasts, strange plants, and resources that do not exist on Earth—but they also contain unpredictable dangers.”
“Because of the appearance of crystal ore, a portion of humanity evolved glands, developed pheromones, and awakened abilities. Major guild organizations emerged and formed a kind of balance with dungeons appearing across the world.”
“To manage and research these ability users and allow them to coexist peacefully with ordinary people, the federal government established the Blue Hub Ability Inspection Bureau and the Red Saha Ability Research Institute.”
“Although nothing inside the dungeons has yet crossed through those iron doors, I believe that one day… They will come out.”
He Jing’en’s gaze turned distant and melancholy, as though passing through the classroom and seeing some far-off future.
But he quickly came back to himself, smiled guilelessly, unscrewed his thermos, and wet his lips. “Ah, I’ve wandered off topic.”
“Lance, did you hear that? Once Those Things come out, you F-ranks will only be able to cling to the thighs of us high-ranks.” The B-rank Alpha behind him opened and closed his utility knife restlessly, attempting to cut through the ribbon around Lance’s neck. He still remembered the alluring star-magnolia fragrance released from that gland yesterday.
Lance’s long lashes trembled. The morongweng crawled out of his sleeve, raised its venom needle, and eagerly prepared to strike.
A mere B-rank. If the morongweng stung him, it would probably be worse than fulminant myocarditis. Lance had no intention of exposing his true nature yet.
He lightly touched the insect’s head with one finger. Only then did the bug reluctantly retreat into his sleeve.
In the front row, Tang Li shrank slightly and said timidly to Zhan Pingchuan, “Student Zhan, do you think the things in the dungeons really will come out? I’m scared…”
His eyes glistened as he looked at Zhan Pingchuan affectionately.
Zhan Pingchuan had heard about this kind of thing since childhood and had lost all interest. Without even raising his eyes, he replied pitilessly, “Classmate, my heart is already as cold as Mount Everest.”
Tang Li: “……”
After drinking water, He Jing’en’s voice rang out strongly again. “Speaking of ability attributes, I believe everyone already has some understanding. At present, the abilities registered with the Federation’s Red Saha Research Institute are divided into eight major categories.”
“The most common are animal-type, plant-type, and enhancement-type abilities. Rarer, highly offensive categories include insect-type and elemental-type abilities. Healing-type and control-type abilities are currently fought over by every major guild.”
“The most unusual is spatial-type.” He Jing’en let his gaze roam through the classroom before continuing slowly. “Perhaps because this type can be extraordinarily destructive—with higher stages even potentially capable of annihilating an entire timeline—it is as though humanity has been given a genetic lock. Humans are almost incapable of mastering high-stage spatial abilities.”
Zhan Pingchuan’s brow lifted almost imperceptibly.
Not bad.
He currently possessed the spatial first-stage ability [Linear Bending], second-stage ability [Planar Reflection], and third-stage ability [Void Realm]. Beyond that, however, he could not see or grasp the path forward.
It was just like humanity’s definition of dimensions. One dimension was a line, two dimensions a plane, three dimensions solid space. Those concepts were easy to understand and corresponded one-to-one with his abilities. But beginning with four-dimensional spacetime, the meaning became abstract.
The genetic lock He Jing’en described was probably the uncrossable boundary between three dimensions and four.
He Jing’en continued, “Now you can look at your spirit-realm systems. They should still be almost empty. But as you study at Xingzhou University and gain experience in dungeons, those spaces will certainly become richer and fuller.”
The so-called spirit-realm system was an imagined space between the frontal and temporal lobes of the brain. Every Awakener’s space was different, and it recorded detailed information on ability progression and bodily statistics.
Because it existed only inside an Awakener’s mind, in the earliest years it had even been mistaken for a symptom of schizophrenia.
“Hehe, mine isn’t empty. My first-stage ability is already in there.”
“So what? I have physical stat points from killing dungeon beasts.”
“You mean the five excitement points you got from killing a goblin?”
“Pfft! Who hasn’t killed a goblin? I’ve already gone into dungeons with my dad several times.”
……
“Oh, I forgot something.” He Jing’en slapped his shiny bald head. “Aiya, actually, there is said to be another ability attribute whose spirit realm is completely different from every other Awakener’s. That attribute is called divine—never mind. It doesn’t exist anymore anyway. That’s all for today.”
He Jing’en stopped halfway through the subject, still wearing that honest, kindly smile. He waved cheerfully to everyone and walked out as though entirely detached from worldly affairs.
Lance smiled as he watched him leave.
Who said divine-type Awakeners no longer existed?
Lance closed his eyes and entered his own spirit realm.
Unlike other ability users who awakened their attributes at sixteen or seventeen, Lance had been dragged here countless times since his earliest memories at three or four years old.
It was an endless darkness filled with cold, ethereal mist. He felt as though he stood inside a vast, insubstantial universe, touching only emptiness in every direction. Within that indescribable immensity and depth, he experienced terror. It could swallow him more easily than a blink.
No one could truly understand his situation or his helplessness. As a small child, all he could do was curl into a ball and tremble in a place with no shelter at all, waiting for a danger that might descend at any moment and consume him completely.
In kindergarten he had already been diagnosed with nervous exhaustion, PTSD, autism, delusional disorder…… Guild Master Lan had therefore hidden him away completely and allowed him no contact with outsiders.
Until one day, he saw It in the depths. Its entire body was snow-white, with a ring of silvery mane around its neck. It had antlers shaped somewhat like those of a sika deer, and in the center of those antlers hung an almost transparent divine halo. It also possessed two wings—with no flesh and no feathers, made entirely of white bone.
Lance knew this was not Its true form. It merely used this shape to give Lance a clear concept of It.
When It opened Its eyes, endless mental pollution began.
Later, Lance could be walking normally down a road and suddenly perceive himself in the middle of a deep sea while a savage shark opened its bloody jaws beneath him to swallow him whole.
Yet by now he could keep his gaze forward and continue walking without a stumble.
There was also something Lance had never told It: in that universe-like darkness, behind It, there was another blurred shadow.
Lance was jolted awake by a tug on the ribbon around his neck. Irritated, he opened his eyes and felt the ribbon sliding downward.
The B-rank Alpha behind him sneered, “What are you pretending for? Everyone knows what your pheromones smell like. Why cover yourself up? Director Ediv isn’t here, so you think you’re safe? Don’t forget, Xingzhou University worships the law of the jungle.”
The utility knife reached toward the knot in Lance’s ribbon. Its tip nearly touched his pale, delicate earlobe.
In the front row, Tang Li complained plaintively, “Student Zhan, are you this mean to every Omega?”
Lance did not care about the Alpha harassing him. His gaze slid toward the aggrieved Tang Li. In the blink of an eye, a wicked idea took shape.
A sly gleam flashed through his eyes and vanished. Then he cried out hurriedly, panic in his voice and suppressed tears beneath it. “Zhan Pingchuan!”
Zhan Pingchuan’s eyelids snapped open. Every trace of feigned exhaustion disappeared. He turned, his gaze landing on Lance with perfect precision as though he had been watching that position all along.
Lance covered his gland with one hand. His lips trembled, and the clear eyes behind his silver-framed lenses shimmered with moisture. “It was him yesterday!”
B-rank Alpha: “?”
Almost instantly, Zhan Pingchuan’s black pupils darkened. Ferocious S-rank pheromones swept through the entire classroom like a predatory beast.