Chapter 68: Yucai High School

The Principal’s Office

Li Zhi followed behind the homeroom teacher, stepping once more into the pitch-black, oppressive administration building.

Just as she expected, with the principal present, the security guard was back at his post. His electric baton hung from his belt, a walkie-talkie in hand, eyes sharp as knives as he watched over the entrance. The homeroom teacher gave him a small nod as they walked in.

Outside the security room, a tarnished vanity mirror hung on the wall. As the teacher walked ahead, Li Zhi caught her reflection—her lips twisted into a strange, sinister smile.

Inside, the building creaked ominously. The ancient elevator groaned and shook violently as they ascended.

Ding—the fifth floor. Easier than climbing all those stairs last time, at least.

Just like before, the fifth floor was damp, dim, and suffocating. Both ends of the hallway were sealed by tiny, shuttered windows—too small for even a child to crawl through. The air was stale, thick with the reek of mold, making the entire floor feel more like a basement than a high floor of an academic building.

The teacher led her to the principal’s office and politely knocked on the door.

Click.

To Li Zhi’s surprise, the two aluminum doors slid smoothly apart.

Electric doors.

Good thing she hadn’t chosen to break in by force earlier.

With the door open, that foul, nauseating smell wafted out even stronger. Li Zhi instinctively covered her mouth and nose. The teacher, however, remained as composed and serene as ever, not even flinching.

“Principal, I’ve brought the student,” she said respectfully.

A warm, almost grandfatherly voice drifted from inside: “Thank you, Teacher Liu. Let the student come in.”

The teacher turned to Li Zhi, her expression now soft and kind—an ideal teacher comforting a troubled child. “Li Zhi, I know you’ve disappointed your teachers and your parents, but we never give up on our students here at Yucai High. Go in, have a chat with the principal. If you have any grievances, share them with him.”

She stood aside, gesturing expectantly for Li Zhi to step inside.

Li Zhi gave her a brilliant smile. “Alright. I’ll have a nice long talk with him.”

She stepped one foot into the doorway, then paused, turning her head to look at Teacher Liu. “I’ve got a question, though.”

The teacher’s gentle mask slipped slightly. “What is it?”

Li Zhi stared straight at her. “How does it feel, personally delivering students who trust you into hell?”

For a brief moment, the homeroom teacher’s warm facade shattered, revealing a twisted, hideous grimace beneath. Li Zhi didn’t linger for an answer. She stepped into the office fully.

The electric doors slid shut behind her with a metallic thud.

It was dark.

That was Li Zhi’s first impression the moment the doors closed. The only supposed ventilation—the window opposite the desk—was completely blocked by thick blackout curtains. Dim, old-fashioned wall sconces flickered on the walls, casting a yellowish glow.

Behind a massive, worn desk, a short, stout middle-aged man sat in a leather chair, smiling at her.

“Li Zhi, right?” The principal rose to his feet, his expression benevolent, his voice as warm as a teacher’s should be. “Your teacher told me you’ve been having trouble adjusting here. Why don’t you tell me about it?”

Li Zhi ignored his smile, quietly observing him as he slowly approached. His whole act radiated sincerity, decency, paternal concern.

Convincing. Dangerously convincing.

Li Zhi met his eyes, offering a faint smile of her own, but said nothing. For a brief second, confusion flickered in the principal’s eyes—but it vanished quickly, replaced by his usual practiced smile.

He paused, picked up a teacup from his desk, and walked toward a cupboard against the wall to pour himself some water. “Your parents entrusted you to us here at Yucai High because they wanted you to succeed. Wandering around the school at night, fighting classmates in the classroom—that’s not what a good student should be doing.”

Li Zhi laughed softly. “Then what should a good student do?”

“Follow the rules,” the principal replied kindly, “Study hard. That’s the foundation for every student at Yucai.”

“And if I can’t?” she asked.

His smile deepened. “If you can’t… I can help you.”

The stench in the room was now almost unbearable. Li Zhi’s temples throbbed sharply, like tiny needles driving into her skull. She winced slightly, blinking away the dizziness. In that instant of distraction, the principal was suddenly standing right in front of her.

In his hand was a gleaming silver ruler. And wriggling on its surface—

—a tiny, pale white worm, inching slowly toward her ear.

The ruler’s far end was nearly touching her skin, the larva poised to crawl inside.

Too slow, old man.

Li Zhi’s eyes went cold. With lightning reflexes, she seized his wrist with one hand and slapped a sealing talisman onto his chest with the other.

The principal didn’t react fast enough. He had been too busy admiring the scene of a disobedient student about to be properly corrected. His eyes widened in disbelief. “Impossible! You—you shouldn’t still be conscious!”

Li Zhi wrenched the ruler from his hand, inspecting the wriggling larva calmly. “Mental attack?”

Made sense. That’s how they’d been controlling the students—subtle mental manipulation, gradually eroding their will. Too bad for him, her mental fortitude was off the charts. It had only stunned her for a second before she reversed it, snapping fully back to her senses.

Panic twisted the principal’s face. His body trembled violently. “What are you going to do?!”

Li Zhi smiled sweetly, mimicking his earlier posture, bringing the ruler close to his ear. “I’ll ask. You’ll answer. If I don’t like your answers… this little worm is going in. I don’t need to tell you what happens next, do I?”

Sweat poured from his forehead like rain.

“What is this thing?”

He trembled. Li Zhi’s expression darkened. “One minute.”

His defenses broke instantly. “San… Three Corpse Worm! That’s a larva of the Three Corpse Worm!”

“Where’s the main body?”

“In… inside the wall cabinet…”

“How do I kill it?”

Something flickered in the principal’s eyes, and then he laughed, low and sinister. “Kill it? It can’t be killed. It’s not a worm—it’s a god. The Three Corpse God. How can a human kill a god? Join us, student—join us, and anything you desire will be yours.”

Two years. In just two years, since he’d begun worshipping this so-called Three Corpse God, Yucai High’s test scores skyrocketed to the top, and his career had soared with them. And it was all thanks to the god hidden in the walls behind him.

Li Zhi sighed softly.

The principal saw hope in that sigh. “Finally tempted, are we?”

“One minute isn’t long enough.”

Not nearly long enough to get everything she wanted out of him.

Without further word, she raised the ruler and pressed it gently to his ear. His shrill screams filled the office as the larva slowly crawled into his ear canal.

Time’s up. The sealing talisman burned away.

Freed, the principal screamed, clawing desperately at his head, flailing wildly. “NO! NO—GET OUT!”

Li Zhi watched calmly as he writhed, then suddenly lunged at her, roaring.

Without blinking, she raised her knee and drove it straight into his chest. The principal crashed backward, out cold.

No rope. Nothing to restrain him. She could only deliver a few hard knife-hand strikes to the back of his neck for good measure before he slumped to the floor, unmoving.

Another sharp jab of pain exploded behind her temples. Li Zhi staggered slightly, catching herself against the edge of the desk, glaring toward the massive hidden wall cabinet.

The Three Corpse Worm… still trying to mess with my head…

But this time, the talisman hanging against her chest—the sunflower-shaped jade pendant—began to glow faintly, pushing back the piercing pain.

Outside, screaming broke the silence of the hallway.

It had begun.

The worm mother had sensed danger. Its controlled puppets—infected students and players—were being driven into a frenzy to defend it. Even those not fully controlled were suffering the mental assault, collapsing in pain just outside the office.

But Tan Manyu wasn’t your average civilian. Selected by the government for special ops training, her mental fortitude was formidable. And, separated from the office by thick doors and walls, the psychic assault’s intensity was much weaker out there.

After a few seconds, she forced herself back to clarity—just in time to see Zhou Jianzhang, eyes wild, raise an axe over a dazed Xu Yiran.

“Xu Yiran!”

Tan Manyu’s roar snapped Xu Yiran back to partial awareness, confusion and panic flashing across her face.

Without hesitation, Tan Manyu slammed her elbow into Bei Xuan—who was attacking her—and dove at Xu Yiran, tackling her out of the way. The axe swung down, slicing deep into Tan Manyu’s shoulder.

Pain exploded through her—but she didn’t stop. Using the momentum, she rolled to her feet and delivered a savage kick to Zhou Jianzhang’s wrist. The axe clattered to the floor.

“Lian Qinglin!”

“Got it!”

Lian Qinglin dove for the weapon, snatching it up before Zhou Jianzhang could recover.

No more holding back. These weren’t people anymore—they were shells.

With a grimace of determination, Lian Qinglin gripped the axe tight, then swung with brutal force at one of the infected charging toward Tan Manyu.

Crunch.

The infected player’s body nearly split in half at the waist.

But instead of gore—an avalanche of writhing, pale worms poured out, flooding the floor like a ruptured hive. The player’s hollowed-out skin crumpled like paper, utterly devoured from the inside.

The wriggling tide of larvae surged toward the damp, shadowy corners of the hallway.

Inside the principal’s office, Li Zhi fought her way closer to the hidden altar.

The psychic assault was agonizing. Blood trickled from her ears and nose. She wiped it away absently, gritting her teeth.

But the sunflower pendant on her chest shone brighter, shielding her mind from the worst of it. Step by step, she made it to the cabinet and ripped the doors open.

Inside—

—a small altar.

An ancestral tablet sat on it, three incense sticks burning faintly in a cloud of rancid smoke.

And behind the altar…

A girl sat there. Pale, delicate. Eyes closed. Wearing a serene smile.

Still. Silent.

Waiting.