Chapter 26: Dragoncry Middle School (Part 3) Part 1

Ye Xuechun swallowed upon hearing this.

The teacher’s expression was icy, and his hands urgently flipped through those two failing test papers.

Yun Xueqing’s gaze cooled slightly. He took out the Dice from his Storage Space and said in a low voice, “All the test papers in the teacher’s hands will be blown away by the wind.”

The Dice obediently spun inside its box on the desk, then stopped, finally landing on six points.

The probability of success was quite high!

A faint blue light, visible only to him, lingered around the teacher and the papers in his hands.

In that moment of negligence, a fierce gale suddenly arose outside the window. The window that the student who had jumped had opened remained unclosed, blowing up all the textbooks and test papers in the classroom.

The papers in the teacher’s hands were no exception. Apart from the one he gripped tightly, all the rest flew into disarray from the wind, with several even blown directly out the window!

The teacher anxiously shouted, “Pick up the papers for me, pick them up!”

Yun Xueqing crouched down to fish in troubled waters for his test paper, and sure enough, he found it.

Looking at the blood-red “2” on it, he fell silent for a moment, then silently stashed the paper into his Storage Space and continued searching for Ye Xuechun’s.

However, after flipping through everything, he still couldn’t find it. The other classmates gradually helped pick up the papers.

Yun Xueqing pondered briefly: Blown away by the wind?

The biology teacher sorted through the newly collected papers, then pointed at two classmates. “You two, go downstairs and help the teacher retrieve the papers that flew out.”

His gaze sharpened as he considered whether to follow them downstairs and find the paper ahead of time, when he heard the biology teacher suddenly laugh. “Luckily, I still have the failing student’s paper in my hand.”

Before the wind had started, he had already found it.

He sneered, looking at the answer sheet covered in red crosses. “This student only scored 39 points and clearly didn’t listen to the teacher at all during class.”

Yun Xueqing tensed, and Ye Xuechun was equally nervous.

Ye Xuechun had been grateful for the sudden wind that saved his life, but the other had another paper in hand.

This paper definitely wasn’t Yun Xueqing’s—it had to be his, a fifty-fifty chance.

His luck had always been good; perhaps the one blown away was exactly his… But if so, what about Yun Xueqing?

Or maybe they were both lucky, and neither had failed?

Even knowing it was nearly impossible, Ye Xuechun silently prayed.

He stared deathly at the biology teacher on the podium, at his mouth, waiting for it to pronounce the death sentence.

The people sent downstairs to find papers soon returned, holding a few sheets. The biology teacher flipped through the scores and frowned. “How come the other failing student’s paper isn’t here?”

He shook his head, looking at the failing answer sheet in his hand, and said leisurely, “There are two failing students. I’m sure you both know who you are and your own level. Stand up voluntarily, admit your mistake, and I can lighten your punishment.”

No one responded.

Classmates with or without faces merely hung their heads, staring at their textbooks.

Ye Xuechun’s palms sweated from tension.

“I have the grade roster. Even if someone’s paper is lost, I still know your scores—especially the failing ones.”

Upon hearing about the grade roster, Ye Xuechun gave up hope. He took a deep breath, about to stand, when Yun Xueqing beside him suddenly whispered, “Don’t move.”

Ye Xuechun didn’t understand but obediently stayed put.

After a while with no one standing, the teacher sighed. “Such dishonest children.”

Knowing he couldn’t fool those he wanted to, he disinterestedly announced the owner of the failing paper in his hand. “Ke Yan, come to my office after school.”

He handed down the paper.

A girl with thick bangs stood from her chair, her face deathly pale, shaking her head nonstop. “No! No! I don’t want to go to the office! Don’t make me see it!”

Ke Yan’s voice was hysterical, laced with endless despair. Her ordinary face, soaked in despair, twisted in agony.

Unwilling to be manipulated like this, she pulled a knife from her drawer, stepped onto a stool to climb over, and lunged fiercely at the biology teacher!

The teacher didn’t dodge, merely standing in place as she stabbed. Only when she was right before him did a rotten, fleshy octopus tentacle suddenly emerge from behind!

The octopus tentacle was a putrid meaty color, covered in transparent spines. Its attack speed was incredibly swift as it thrust forward, piercing straight through Ke Yan’s heart!

With the prey captured, it was time to feed.

The teacher’s skinny head split neatly down the middle, its exoskeleton shedding abruptly. But what emerged wasn’t brains—it was a scarlet maw lined with white serrated teeth.

The maw connected to red nutrient tubes rooted in the center of the neck’s cross-section. With the nutrient tubes’ support, the maw extended unrestrained, biting off Ke Yan’s head in one gulp!

Blood sprayed, splattering the podium. The headless body stood before the podium, even its hand still holding the knife pose.

The students below finally reacted, no longer like stiff, string-pulled puppets. Some faces showed pain, others eyes filled with hatred, as if they wanted to devour flesh and blood raw.

The one commonality was a barely perceptible fear in all of them. It was unclear if they feared the teacher or something else.

But no matter how intense the emotions, they soon dissipated, returning to expressionless puppets.

The maw chewed briefly, fully pulverizing and swallowing the head, then picked up the skullcap from the floor and reattached it.

The man-eating monster instantly reverted to the gentle, refined teacher. He smiled and pointed at the still-spraying corpse. “When something bursts and sprays blood, that’s an artery. There’s a major one in the neck—if broken, the person dies. Got it, everyone?”

No one responded, only the sound of pens on paper—someone was diligently taking notes.

Pleased with their seriousness, the teacher nodded, acting as if nothing had happened, and called the class monitor to distribute the papers.

Looking at the students below, he suddenly flashed a sinister grin. “The other failing paper is missing somehow. I suspect some naughty child hid it. The one without a paper is that naughty child who hid their failing paper.”

He licked the corner of his lips, as if still savoring. “Naughty children deserve the harshest punishment.”

His eyes scanned the class, suddenly locking onto Yun Xueqing.

He remembered the other failing student was this one.

But without the paper in hand, he had to personally deliver the failing paper or force admission of failure to trigger the death rule.

Yun Xueqing met his stare without a hint of unease, his expression calm, showing no guilt.

All papers were distributed, and unexpectedly, five people didn’t have theirs.

The teacher gnashed his teeth slightly. “They must not have found all the ones blown out the window. What convenient timing for that wind.”

“But you five don’t have papers—the failing student is definitely among you!” He spoke with conviction, his tone confident as if capturing a fugitive in the crowd.

Unfortunately, the bell rang for the end of class, meaning the time to enforce the death rule had passed. He couldn’t press further.

He glared hatefully at Yun Xueqing and left the classroom with his briefcase.

Once he was out, Ye Xuechun let out a long breath. “Good thing nothing happened. I was almost scared to death.”

Yun Xueqing walked over and glanced at his paper—exactly 60 points. He was mildly surprised. “You…”

A test genius?

Ye Xuechun scratched his head. “Pure luck. I got all the multiple-choice questions right by guessing.”

Unable to do them, he simply closed his eyes and guessed randomly—right ones counted.

Yun Xueqing examined his paper and found the multiple-choice truly all correct, with some partial credit on the essays to reach exactly 60.

Recalling his own paper, the only point he’d scored was on a multiple-choice he agonized over for half an hour.

[Which part of the human body is edible?]

Of course, all of them—the Weird were not picky eaters, especially fond of fresh sashimi.

He fell silent for a moment, then asked seriously, “Your only Oracle power—is it luck-related?”

“Not really,” Ye Xuechun scratched his head. “I’ve had great luck since birth.”

Afraid the other wouldn’t believe him, he added, “The one time I bought a lottery ticket, I won five million.”

Yun Xueqing suddenly thought that if his Dice could combine with Ye Xuechun’s extreme luck, wouldn’t they be invincible?

He shelved the idea, deciding to observe the other’s character before considering an alliance.

Seeing him silent, Ye Xuechun assumed envy and comforted, “I’m a lucky guy. Stick with me, and your luck will improve too.”

Yun Xueqing nodded, about to speak, when the class bell rang.

This was Chinese class. The Mediterranean Class Teacher from yesterday entered with a stack of papers, bellowing, “Chinese test today.”

With the college entrance exam just over twenty days away, the routine was minor tests every three days, major ones every five— the class was used to it.

Ye Xuechun’s face fell, while Yun Xueqing looked over the distributed paper, scanned the questions, and began writing.

After Chinese, the dismissal bell rang. The two headed to the Dining Hall, Ye Xuechun whispering beside Yun Xueqing, “Are we just going to keep testing endlessly like this?”

They’d narrowly escaped this time, but endless exams meant death by unknown means.

Yun Xueqing shook his head. “We need to escape.”

Ye Xuechun asked, “How?”

Escape the tests? Or the school?

Yun Xueqing didn’t answer, instead asking, “Shen Qing didn’t come to class today.”

Ye Xuechun realized. “Right, with the homeroom teacher’s nature, he should’ve been dragged here, but he wasn’t. What’s so special about him?”

“We’ll know when we get back to Dorm 224.”

Back at Dorm 224, Shen Qing was indeed still lying on his bed.

Compared to their morning ordeal, he seemed leisurely, like on vacation.

Yun Xueqing didn’t speak rashly, but Ye Xuechun asked directly, “Shen Qing, how are you skipping class without issue?”

Shen Qing poked his messy head out from under the blanket, his gaze gloomy. “Why should I tell you?”

Ye Xuechun felt helpless. “Can’t we team up? Or do you plan to solo this Domain?”

Shen Qing ignored him, threw off the blanket, and got out of bed in pajamas. “I don’t need teammates, especially ones connected to that guy.”

Ye Xuechun: “Who are you talking about?”

Recalling Fu Wuxuan, Shen Qing’s expression darkened further. “Shut up.”

Yun Xueqing suddenly spoke, changing the subject. “You have something that fools the Weird.”

Otherwise, he couldn’t skip class.