Chapter 60: This Is Too Unfair Part 2

An Luo was like a statue in a cathedral, standing high, seemingly smiling, but touch it and it was cold marble, devoid of warmth.

Sunlight through stained glass colored its white surface, but when the light faded, it was white again.

The statue stood silent. Prayers, pleas, curses—it accepted all without response, just standing mutely.

If it were a god, fine—offend it, and it might react, giving feedback, even negative.

But a statue!

Pretty, silent, motionless.

Even blatant desecration or vulgar words elicited no reaction—not even anger.

This was too unfair. Sometimes Meieruita suddenly flared inside, though his face stayed calm.

Unfair! Unfair! Unfair!

He watched An Luo ponder, lips pressed to his hand, distorted. Then An Luo sipped juice from a cup nearby, his lips moistening—like crushed petals, shades of color deep and shallow.

Meieruita wanted to do something, but didn’t know what. His inner fire burned. Scold An Luo? Hit him? Bully him?

Even he found that unreasonable. Baseless abuse? He didn’t want to truly hurt An Luo, but he wanted to do something.

His teeth itched; he wanted to bite An Luo.

An Luo noticed Meieruita’s style shift—sharper now. Before, like a swamp slowly engulfing; now, a cold north wind scattering his pieces. In a daze, he lost.

“You lost.”

He heard Meieruita say.

The voice was low. This time, Meieruita did not say “checkmate.”

He pushed over An Luo’s last chess piece quickly and urgently. The piece toppled onto the board with a crisp sound.

“Hmm, I lost.”

An Luo looked at the board dejectedly. He always lost thoroughly, and this time was no different.

“Another round?” Meieruita asked.

An Luo replied, “Sure.”

Even though he would definitely lose again, playing chess was still fun.

Meieruita cleared the board, returning the captured pieces one by one to their original positions. An Luo heard his voice: “But just playing chess like this all the time feels a bit lacking.”

An Luo said, “Then what should we do?”

Meieruita reset the final piece. “How about we add some stakes?”

“If you win, you can make a request. If I win, I can make a request.”

An Luo couldn’t help but laugh. “We don’t even need to start to know you’ll definitely win.”

Meieruita laughed too—a short, abrupt sound that quickly dissipated into the air.

He said slowly, “Everything is unknown. Who can guarantee a hundred percent victory?”

An Luo joked, “Of course, me. You’re the protagonist I wrote. You’re destined to win everything because you have the protagonist halo from the author.”

Meieruita glanced at him, then lowered his head. Stray hairs fell down, covering his brows and eyes, while slightly longer strands swayed by his cheeks, their tips curling faintly.

Meieruita did not pay much attention to his appearance, and his haircut was particularly casual. But he was truly good-looking—one of the best. Even in his casualness, he carried a unique beauty. He resembled a scholar, a wizard, or even a vampire—but not the kind from horror stories, rather the type from a girl’s manga.

There was a saying about being “beautiful yet unaware.” In the real world, everyone had eyes, and true beauties often knew their own allure because of mirrors and the benefits beauty brought.

But Meieruita was genuinely “beautiful yet unaware.” He had never reaped the rewards of his looks, mainly because An Luo had not written it that way. Meieruita focused on strength and did not care much about his appearance. This casual attitude gave him a distinctive aura.

Sometimes, An Luo would gaze at him and suddenly feel bewildered, wondering if this outstanding protagonist was really one he had created himself. He could hardly believe it.

The game began. An Luo noticed that Meieruita was not as decisive as before. Before placing a piece, he pondered for a moment. The time was not long, but unlike earlier when he would move immediately after An Luo did, now he was more deliberate.

Meieruita carefully surveyed the entire board before moving, approaching the game with greater caution overall. An Luo wondered if his own chess skills had improved, forcing Meieruita to treat him more seriously.

But a glance at the board dispelled this unrealistic thought.

This game ended even faster than the last. Meieruita’s moves were more precise, blocking every possible angle. An Luo had almost no chance to fight back and could only watch as his pieces were captured one by one.

Finally, Meieruita took An Luo’s last piece. His voice remained calm. “I win.”

An Luo honored the bet. “Alright, what do you want me to do?”

Meieruita fell silent for a long while, as if thinking. After a moment, he said hesitantly, “I want to bite you once.”

An Luo: “…”

Uh…?

He had not expected such a request from Meieruita, but it seemed amusing—perhaps a prank. “Fine, but bite lightly.”

Meieruita stood up. He walked around the round table to An Luo’s side. His tall, dark shadow enveloped An Luo. Meieruita bent down, placing both hands on the chair’s armrests.

He leaned in closer. An Luo watched his face draw nearer, Meieruita’s scent filling his nostrils. In the deep sockets, those gray-green eyes glowed like two will-o’-the-wisps, burning faintly and quietly. His long eyebrows swept into his temples, partially obscured by a fallen strand of hair.

Meieruita lowered his head, and his shoulder-length black hair draped down, brushing against An Luo’s ears and cheeks—cool and silky, like dangling tendrils or slender black snakes.

An Luo felt a bite on his shoulder. It was not deep or heavy, but carried a dull, faint ache. Through his clothes, he sensed Meieruita’s teeth gripping a patch of flesh on his shoulder—not hard, yet not relaxing either.

After a while, Meieruita lifted his head, a trace of vague bewilderment in his brows and eyes.

An Luo had thought it was just a prank, but now the atmosphere felt strange. The air seemed thicker. Meieruita still gripped the armrests, looming over An Luo from above, his shadow covering both their faces. Only the gray-green eyes and red-thin lips stood out with color.

“Um…” An Luo broke the silence. “It’s still early. Another game of chess, or read a book?”

“Read a book.”

Meieruita snapped back. He released the armrests and stood up. His wizard robe flowed like water, smoothing out the wrinkles as he rose. An Luo watched him, and he watched An Luo in return—as if something had changed, yet everything remained the same as before.

The next day, the three newcomers arrived on time, each bringing ample supplies. The city lord provided another carriage, this time with a driver. The three newcomers trailed behind them in the swaying vehicle.

Then came Falguabu City and Solsen City. One by one, the newcomers boarded the carriage. It rattled all the way to the forest’s edge. The group dismounted, and the two carriages were driven back by the coachmen.

Nineteen newcomers in total walked toward the Wizard Tower, full of endless aspirations for their future. They instinctively wanted to get close to An Luo, but a faint glance from Meieruita silenced them, and they retreated a distance.

A few newcomers from noble backgrounds felt indignant. They were nobles by birth, accustomed to arrogance, and having been tested with wizard aptitude only inflated their pride further. They thought Meieruita was nothing special—just someone who had entered the Wizard Tower a bit earlier. What was there to be smug about?

The one with the highest aptitude, also a noble, could tell at a glance that Meieruita was no aristocrat. He lacked that pampered air and instead resembled a drawn blade—icy cold and ominously sharp.

An Luo differed from Meieruita. The noble newcomer assumed their closeness stemmed from shared aristocratic rapport. But seeing how cautiously Meieruita treated An Luo eased his mind. An Luo did not seem as strong as Meieruita, yet he was still positioned above, being cared for—which suggested that noble status still held weight in the Wizard Tower.

The newcomers mulled over their thoughts as they soon arrived at the Wizard Tower.

An Luo and Meieruita completed the handover procedures. Specialists then led the group of newcomers away. Before leaving, An Luo glanced back at the nineteen newcomers and received a few smiles. He was about to return one when Meieruita tugged his arm.

“Let’s go.”

The Wizard Tower’s interior carried a eerie chill, different from the crisp cold of icy plains—not an overt freeze, but a damp, shadowy coolness. An Luo shrugged his shoulders and followed Meieruita, his mind still on the information he had gathered.

This Wizard Tower was in a remote area, with no major cities in its sphere of influence—just small towns. An Luo planned to settle in a big city later. Big cities teemed with people, a mix of all sorts; one more stranger was like a drop in the ocean. Small towns would not do—everyone knew everyone, and a new face would spread like wildfire through the streets.

Moreover, big cities had more publishers, offering An Luo better job prospects.

Lost in thought, An Luo was led into the Wizard Apprentice Dormitory. The door opened, and a wave of chill hit him. He shivered and stepped inside.

He calculated the time in his mind. It would not be long before he could leave.

His somewhat low mood upon returning to the Wizard Tower lifted a bit.

Not bad!