After last night’s disagreements, the group of six led by Zhou Jianzhang had clearly formed a small clique of their own. Sitting together, they appeared disinterested in interacting with the others and were quietly and excitedly discussing something.
The two male players who had followed Li Zhi out last night hesitated for a moment. They exchanged glances and, carrying their meal trays, walked over to the group.
Before they could sit down, Bei Xuan sneered and mocked, “If you want to keep following the big boss, go ahead. Don’t come here now trying to be fence-sitters.”
The two stood awkwardly, not knowing whether to sit or leave.
“Xiao Xuan,” Zhou Jianzhang scolded her disapprovingly before turning to the two players and saying kindly, “Xiao Xuan can be blunt sometimes; I hope you don’t mind. Have a seat.”
Grateful, the two thanked Zhou Jianzhang and sat down beside the group of six. They continued their conversation, and soon, the two newcomers exclaimed in shock and regret, “Really?!”
Xu Yiran and Peipei glanced in that direction, then exchanged a look before continuing to eat their meals in silence.
Lian Qinglin, with his usual carefree attitude, said, “If you two want to join them, go ahead.”
Xu Yiran looked up at Li Zhi, who was calmly drinking porridge beside her. She clenched her teeth and firmly declared, “No! I’m sticking with Li Zhi all the way to the end!”
Pink Hair shouted, “Hey, hey! Watch your words! ‘All the way to the end’? Following my boss is obviously the path of light!”
Xu Yiran blushed. “Right, right!”
Li Zhi chuckled, picking up a boiled egg from her plate, tapping it lightly, and peeling it. As she did, she remarked, “Their scores have probably increased.”
“Huh?!”
Everyone was shocked.
“That’s the only reason they’d be so excited,” Li Zhi said, finishing peeling her egg and taking a bite. Her eyes lit up, and she smiled brightly. “It’s a double-yolk egg. I’m really lucky today.”
Her calm demeanor reassured the others. Even though the opposing group’s scores had likely increased first, no one felt anxious. They all quietly finished their breakfast and headed to the school building.
Tan Manyu overheard Xu Yiran whispering to Peipei as they walked behind, “Don’t worry. I’ve watched Li Zhi’s livestreams. Even though she seems laid-back now, she always makes her move later on! We can’t go wrong by sticking with her.”
Tan Manyu couldn’t help but smile as she looked at the relaxed figure walking ahead. Inwardly, she nodded in agreement. As someone who had studied Li Zhi extensively for official purposes, Tan Manyu was certain: out of all the official subjects of their research, Li Zhi was by far the most emotionally and mentally stable.
They had analyzed all the domestic players who made it onto the global popularity leaderboard. Some stood out for their daring performances, and audiences loved watching those explosive moments. As a result, their popularity often soared, much like how Lian Qinglin’s dramatic leg-breaking survival tactic in the last game instantly earned him nearly two million popularity points.
But to Tan Manyu, these moments were like fireworks—brilliant and captivating in that instant, but fleeting.
It’s not that these players lacked ability, but they were inconsistent. They had moments of panic, fumbling with tools to escape, and sometimes took reckless risks to boost their popularity, nearly losing their lives in the process. As their popularity increased, so did the number of tools at their disposal, which made them bolder in the games. This, in turn, boosted their entertainment value and viewership.
It perfectly aligned with what the [Ghost] system aimed for.
These players fell step by step into the traps set by the [Ghosts], maximizing the bloodshed, violence, and high-stakes thrills, turning Horror Variety Show into a top-notch spectacle.
When Tan Manyu first learned that she would be working with Li Zhi, she pulled up all of her past game records and analyzed them frame by frame. By the end, she was filled with admiration and awe.
Li Zhi was different.
From beginning to end, she never treated the instance like a stage for performance. Tan Manyu believed that with Li Zhi’s abilities, she could easily clear the game in an eye-catching manner, drawing the biggest attention and applause. If she had done so, her popularity would never have lingered at the bottom of the rankings, always at risk of being overtaken.
But she never did that. From her very first entry into the instance, her goal had been clear: to lead her teammates to safety.
She didn’t care about popularity points, nor did she mind if her teammates overshadowed her. She remained constantly vigilant and cautious of the horror instance, taking each step methodically, always striving to minimize casualties among her teammates.
If one were to describe the players’ performances as lines, most would have highs and lows, with varying peaks and dips. Only Li Zhi’s line remained consistently flat, steadily drawn at the highest point—a height others couldn’t reach even at their best.
Not for a second did she fall into the trap set by the [Ghosts], which celebrated death as entertainment.
The only deviation in that flat line occurred the first time she witnessed a teammate die in front of her. That teammate was Pei Xu, a female host who was melted in half by wax.
Tan Manyu recalled that moment from her research on Li Zhi’s gameplay videos. It was the only time she had seen Li Zhi display any emotional fluctuation.
She had been unable to save her teammate. After burying half of Pei Xu’s body, Li Zhi walked to the side and vomited.
Then, she placed a flower on the grave she had made for her teammate.
Before this, Tan Manyu, a government-trained player tasked with entering these instances, still held lingering fear about the unknown horrors of that world. After all, she was just an ordinary person. Before the [Ghost] system invasion, she had been nothing more than an office clerk collecting intelligence.
But after witnessing that moment, Tan Manyu’s fear of entering the instance suddenly lessened. With a teammate like Li Zhi, even if she were to die in the instance, someone would at least place a flower on her grave, right?
As they walked into the classroom, morning self-study hadn’t begun yet.
Under Bei Xuan’s provocative gaze, Li Zhi slowly strolled around their desks, noticing that the scores of the six players who participated in last night’s game had indeed increased.
Some had gained more than ten points, with the highest increase being twenty points.
No wonder they were so happy.
After taking it all in, Li Zhi returned to her seat. Bei Xuan, frustrated by Li Zhi’s calm expression, slammed her book down in anger.
Today’s self-study was once again an English lesson. As soon as the bell rang, the classroom filled with the sounds of students reading aloud and memorizing vocabulary. The class representative collected yesterday’s punishment writing assignments and carried them to the office. Before self-study even ended, the English teacher stormed into the classroom.
Her cold eyes swept over the group of transfer students, and she harshly slapped the stack of punishment assignments against the podium. The classroom fell silent as chalk dust flew into the air.
The English teacher’s sharp, angry voice rang out, “Li Zhi! Lian Qinglin! Stand up!”
Of the group who followed Li Zhi’s method, only Lian Qinglin had made mistakes in copying vocabulary. The others had stayed up all night to finish copying every word. As expected, they were now being singled out as examples.
Bei Xuan’s face lit up with schadenfreude.
The classroom was utterly silent. Li Zhi and Lian Qinglin stood up as the English teacher waved their punishment assignments in her hand and sternly demanded, “Why didn’t you complete the copying assignment?”
Lian Qinglin decided to play it safe and let the “boss” handle it.
Sure enough, the boss stepped up, sounding oddly surprised, “Teacher, I finished copying. I copied every mistake five hundred times.”
The English teacher glared at her. “I said to copy all the vocabulary words five hundred times.”
“But, Teacher,” Li Zhi replied earnestly, “yesterday you specifically said that if we had more than three mistakes, we should copy each word five hundred times. Doesn’t that mean we only needed to copy the mistaken words five hundred times?”
English teacher: “…”
She had indeed said “each word,” which could be interpreted as only the mistaken words, not every word.
The English teacher stared at this transfer student, who returned her gaze with an innocent look. Being scrutinized by those deep, sincere eyes that could even make a dog feel cherished, the teacher couldn’t tell if Li Zhi was being clever or genuinely misunderstood.
Those eyes of Li Zhi’s were truly too disarming.
She looked so innocent, so sincere, that her earnestness made the English teacher start to second-guess herself.
Before the teacher could say anything, Li Zhi, now with a face full of remorse, quickly said, “I’m sorry, teacher. I must have misunderstood you. I’ll continue copying the rest of the words in the coming days.”
Her apology was so quick, and her attitude toward learning seemed so upright, that the English teacher couldn’t press the matter further. She simply nodded with a stern face, “Don’t make such a mistake again.”
Li Zhi obediently replied, “Understood, teacher.”
“Continue with your morning self-study.”
The English teacher left the classroom, and Li Zhi slowly sat down. Tan Manyu, who had been holding back for a while, finally couldn’t resist and wrote a small note: Your acting is impressive.
Li Zhi replied: Can’t abandon my core skill.
Tan Manyu: “…”
As soon as the bell rang for recess, Lian Qinglin quickly rushed over. “Sister Zhi, how did that work? Are we really supposed to continue copying vocabulary?”
Li Zhi, resting her head on her hand while twirling her pen, said, “I said I’d continue for the next few days. I didn’t say today. Who knows, we might clear the game in the next few days.”
Lian Qinglin gave her a thumbs-up in admiration.
Now that the players understood the test had nothing to do with their academic exams but was instead tied to the horror game, they were far less anxious during class.
When the morning lessons ended, Tan Manyu, who had been observing Zhou Jianzhang, whispered to Li Zhi, “Zhou Jianzhang and his group have planned to play the Lamp Spirit game tonight on the sports field.”
Li Zhi asked, “Still with Xu Jingsheng and his group?”
Tan Manyu nodded. “They also invited a few other students. Only those who’ve played the game know the chant to summon the Lamp Spirit.”
Li Zhi packed up her desk and said, “We’ll play a game tonight too.”
Tan Manyu was a bit surprised. “We’re playing as well?”
“The score is probably tied to the completion rate of the horror games,” Li Zhi explained. “The highest score for the Four Corners game was 20 points. According to the system’s requirement for a passing score, we need to play at least three or more horror games to clear the instance.”
Last night, Li Zhi had purposely provoked Xu Jingsheng and managed to learn all the game options: Pen Spirit, Lamp Spirit, Four Corners, and the Dormitory Mirror game. To pass, they would need to play at least three of these four games.
Knowing how the system enjoyed its sinister tricks, Li Zhi was sure that playing these horror games would pose real danger. However, not playing meant they couldn’t clear the instance. But there had to be a solution. Li Zhi had a guess about what that might be, and tonight, she would confirm her theory.
But for now, she had more pressing matters.
In the infirmary, Li Jianxi silently closed the curtains to block out the harsh afternoon light as she watched Li Zhi, who was lying on the medical bed, preparing to take a nap.