Restricted Lovers [Complete] - 6

In Chapter Seven of Episode Two, the fortune teller

, unfortunately, I still lost them.

Since I didn't know which direction they went, I could only search aimlessly like a headless fly, naturally to no avail.

Sigh, I had originally planned to get close enough to eavesdrop and warn innocent people in high-risk areas, but I just don't have the luck for heroism; another good opportunity slipped away!

To make matters worse, my stomach started rumbling again. Since becoming human, my craving for food is like a vampire's craving for blood—an inexplicable, instinctive desire.

I spent a thousand yuan and didn't even get breakfast; I've really been ripped off! Fortunately, fried rice wasn't my main purpose in the first place. Seeing that Sha Zhen was too busy, I didn't want to trouble her further. Besides, I still had some points on hand; I wasn't worried about not being able to buy food at the carnival.

I wandered through the stalls, grabbing an egg pancake from the Gentian Class 3's humble food stall to fill my stomach; then I ordered a Margaret's drink at the Margaret Class 1 bar to quench my thirst; passing by the Iris Class 2, I impulsively played a few puzzle games with Yotsuba, only to lose miserably.

Dissatisfied and unwilling to admit defeat, I bought ten raffle tickets to share with her, a head-to-head contest of luck. But fate played a cruel trick on me, and I suffered another crushing defeat. She drew the grand prize—a round-trip ticket to a resort island on the South Island!

The whole class was instantly elated, ringing bells and setting off firecrackers to celebrate keeping the prize within the family. However, she claimed the raffle tickets weren't hers and tried to transfer the ticket to me. I quickly refused; if I was truly lucky, why was it that I was the only one who wouldn't win the grand prize? In the end, I only gave her five roses as a consolation prize, saying, "I accept my loss, no regrets," and left. I

hadn't gone far when a sudden commotion erupted. It turned out that Feng Hua and Fei Yue, leading the Hyacinth Class Two, had brazenly opened a shady gambling den, even instructing their attractive waitresses—both handsome and beautiful—to enthusiastically solicit customers at the entrance.

I didn't want to look closely, so I quickly tried to leave this immoral place, but I couldn't escape. I was half-coquettishly pulled into this money pit filled with profit and beauty by a waitress with exposed cleavage and thighs, becoming an unfortunate lamb.

But lambs aren't always destined to be slaughtered. After I won three 7s twice in a row at the slot machine, displaying my prowess and raking in a large sum of money, they stopped insisting on keeping me there. Thank goodness!

It was one thing for the second-year students to be so immoral, but the upperclassmen weren't as virtuous as I'd imagined. To give a convincing example… Look, just ten meters to my right, the used book stall of Class 3 Mallow is openly selling past exam questions and old notes, as well as the teaching styles, weaknesses, and exam directions of each subject.

I wonder what the professors "on the list" would think if they passed by and saw this scene?

However, these kinds of goods are very popular with students, with a constant stream of people coming and going, and business is no less than that of Class 2 White Lily and Hyacinth. Indeed, for things to sell well, it's not about quality or price, but whether the content can cater to the public's tastes.

But the impenetrable wall of people blocked the flow of people, making the business of the stalls in the same row much quieter. Although a few stall representatives protested to Class 3 Mallow, customers kept pushing forward.

I didn't need those notes, so I tried to clear the way, carefully walked through the crowd, and got away from the influence of this class as soon as possible.

Looking up, I found an interesting fortune-telling stall.

People say that no fortune teller in the world is accurate, and all the calculations are ultimately worthless. But my fate is already predetermined, so I might as well test it out.

It's very impolite to approach fortune telling with a testing mindset; after all, divination is a service, not a way for clients to test the fortune teller's abilities. Being mocked by clients with such intentions would also make the fortune teller feel uncomfortable. But to test whether divination can truly guide people out of danger or is merely a psychological scare tactic, I knowingly went against the grain.

I sat down before the fortune teller, who was draped in a dark cloak, and paid the required fee.

"Hello, what would you like to have divined?" As soon as I sat down, the fortune teller gracefully withdrew her slender fingers that had been caressing the crystal ball. She crossed her right leg seductively over her left, rested her elbow lightly on the table, and her ten fingers, painted with red nail polish, were slightly spread, forming a beautiful shape like butterfly wings. Her pointed chin rested on it, and a subtle, alluring smile played on her lips.

Her enchanting smile instantly captivated me, as if the wheel of fate—shaped like a carriage wheel or a cruise ship steering wheel—had stopped its relentless course, bringing the entire world to a standstill. For a moment, I forgot how to breathe; my mind went blank, only her graceful figure and alluring charm remained in my world.

I finally believed that the saying "a foolish goose falls to its death, a stupid fish drowns" was true. In this frozen space, more exhilarating and addictive than marijuana, I had no doubt that even if it paralyzed my heart, I wouldn't doubt it.

"Guest?"

Her gentle question pushed time forward.

"Uh..." I snapped back to reality, seeing she was still waiting for my response. In my haste, I stammered, "Oh... fortune telling... what? Um... let... you guess."

She merely smiled slightly at my little challenge.

“It’s not difficult, it’s just that several thoughts are flashing through your mind at the same time, and I can’t be sure which one it is.”

“I see…” I composed myself, shifted my focus, looked up at the blue sky to calm my mind, and barely managed to regain my composure. “Then let’s do divination for all of them!”

In the end, she still wanted to get the answer out of me, so I simply put more points into the donation box to give her no reason to refuse .

“So, what kind of divination would you like to do?” She blinked her charming eyes, making my heart flutter. “We have crystal balls, playing cards, tarot cards, runes…”

“Anything, anything is fine, as long as it’s accurate.” I said somewhat absentmindedly.

“Then let’s try them all.” She picked up the tarot cards on the table, shuffled them evenly, and then handed them to me. “Please concentrate on thinking about the question and rotate the deck clockwise.”

“Why?”

“The orientation of the cards is determined by the direction the person being divined is looking. If you don’t rotate them, the divination result may be completely different, which is not what you want, is it?” she said softly.

That’s true.

I took the cards as she instructed, and inadvertently brushed my hand against her fair, delicate skin. The boneless smoothness of her hand made me feel lightheaded, and my conscious mind went on strike for three seconds.

I turned the cards clockwise, my mind preoccupied with whether becoming the mascot of the extreme sports club was a good thing or a bad thing. After handing the cards back, she skillfully arranged the five cards into a shape resembling a V or a short-legged Y.

Before I could ask, she explained, "This is a binary choice divination. It's suitable for those who are troubled by something but don't know how to choose."

"So what's troubling me right now? Money, love, or studies?" I asked.

"Work," she answered without hesitation, quite confidently.

Oh? That's strange!

"Why are you so sure?" I looked at her in surprise.

"It's just a simple little trick," she smiled mysteriously. "Usually, when you want someone to guess something, the person asking the question won't deliberately reveal the answer."

So I had given myself away.

I was so embarrassed that I didn't dare look directly into her alluring eyes. She noticed, and simply drew two diagonal lines with her slender index finger, saying, "Before you are two different paths. Please give them different names, such as 'work and love,' 'career and studies'..."

"Do it," I said decisively, pointing to the left, then moving to the right, "or don't do it!"

“Okay.” She flipped over the first card at the base of the V. “The Moon (Upright), representing your current situation. It indicates you feel lost and confused about your current job, unable to make a decision.”

That makes some sense.

Being a mascot was a forced job, a reluctant choice, but I wasn't entirely willing, and the thought of running away kept creeping into my mind.

“And the second card?” I asked immediately.

She slowly flipped over the second card from the top left, as I was looking.

“The Hanged Man (Upright), representing your recent situation. You're currently in a transitional period; as long as you persevere and don't give up, a turning point will definitely appear in the future.”

A turning point? I raised an eyebrow, noncommittal.

The third card from the top right of the A.

“The Hermit (Reverse), indicating that giving up this job will bring you a peaceful, secluded life; however, because of the closed-off relationships, self-isolation will cause you to miss out on a lot of help.”

The first half is correct, but the second half… help? I'd be lucky if they didn't cause me trouble!

Top left, fourth card.

"Wheel of Fortune (positive), future development. This job will bring you extremely good luck. Any misfortune will turn into good fortune, and you will have benefactors to help you. Crises can be turned into opportunities."

Top right, fifth card, Death (positive).

"I think that's self-explanatory. It all depends on your decision." She stared at me intently.

Will I die if I don't become a mascot? Does that mean I'll become a wandering ghost?

I don't agree with that conclusion. If I don't become a mascot, I'll definitely be dead if I'm sold to a news agency; but if my beautiful landlady finds out I've taken this shady job, I probably won't survive either.

"Let's look at something else." To keep the beautiful woman looking beautiful, I didn't want to directly criticize her divination for being inaccurate.

"How about Rune?" She took out a small bag.

"What's that?" "

A rune, a Norse divination stone. It's a sacred script that Odin, the god, comprehended after hanging himself on the Tree of Life (Yggdrasil) for nine days and nights. There are twenty-five runes in the rune, one of which is an empty rune. Each rune possesses mystical power and can foresee the future. You can draw a rune from your bag; that's the answer."

"Oh? Then let's calculate how much longer I can live!" I reached into my bag.

Many things in this world cannot be explained by just twenty-four ancient scripts or dozens of tarot cards. Even if people think it's accurate, it's because the "answer" is usually ambiguous and open to interpretation.

I once opened a horoscope book, pointing to the imaginary diagrams formed by the stars, trying to convince myself one by one: "That's me."

The results showed that I have at least ten zodiac signs, because people don't just have one face and one clear personality. It's just that we unconsciously have a stronger inclination to belong to the month of our birth, which leads to more illusions and makes us more susceptible to being hypnotized by words.

“If you don’t believe it, it won’t work.” She saw through my deceitful words and actions; she just wanted to play around.

“No, I’m serious.” I was seriously testing her.

A crystal engraved with a 'u' was gently pushed in front of her.

She examined the symbol, whose meaning she didn’t understand, and fell into deep thought.

After waiting for more than a minute, she was still focused on the runes, and there was still no explanation. I had no choice but to ask, “Well, any progress?”

She glanced at me and suddenly smiled slyly, “The 'uruz' of strength, in reverse, represents weakness, a lack of vitality, and possibly a health problem. If you want to ask me what kind of problem it is, I’m sorry, I’m not a doctor.”

Now it was my turn to be speechless.

Though not quite right, it wasn’t far off!

The professionalism of the stalls at the fair was truly unexpected.

“Do you think this is true?” I asked deliberately.

Logically speaking, she had won.

Even if the cards clearly imply death, no fortune teller would be so foolish as to tell a living, breathing client, "You're dead!"

That would be utterly humiliating and laughable!

"The runes engraved on crystals and minerals possess the most powerful force," she firmly believed in the unknown abilities of cryptic writing. "Some diseases don't show any outward signs."

Acknowledging her expertise meant accepting her divination results. The tarot cards predicted future disaster; whether or not they served as a talisman was crucial. Whether it would bring hardship before happiness or extreme joy followed by tragedy, given my aversion to "death," I knew what to do.

"...You're very capable," I said admiringly.

"Thank you." She began putting her divination tools away. "Remember, divination is ultimately a prediction, not a fact. The answer you get is only a rough estimate. There's always room for change before everything is finalized. Don't be too pessimistic, but don't be too complacent either. While I'm not asking you to hide, if you do nothing, the prediction will still come true."

How could I not understand this?

After putting away the divination tools, she stared intently at me and asked, "What's next, a crystal ball?"

"No, thank you," I blurted out, refusing her divination, but my bottom remained firmly glued to the chair, unwilling to leave.

After a moment of silence, she asked worriedly, "Your health?"

"Something's wrong, but nothing's wrong," I chuckled. "By the way, something I find strange. There's a competition on the sports field, but a carnival is being held in the garden. All the crowds have been drawn over there. Doesn't that mean... uh, I mean, the competitors would also like their classmates to come and cheer them on!"

"Of course I'll go, just later," she said.

"This morning's events were mostly individual competitions like high jump, long jump, shot put, and darts. The photography club really stole the show. While I admire their skills, a sports meet should be about everyone competing and having fun, not about crushing opponents. That kind of victory is hard to accept. Although it's a sports meet today, honestly, setting up stalls is more fun and more popular with people from other schools."

The photography club again? Why does that group of extreme sports club members, acting as the villains, have to get involved in every negative thing?

If she knew where I was going, would she still support this "lucky job"?

Speaking of work, I suddenly thought: if the Death card in the Tarot represents death, then is "death" really interpreted as "becoming a wandering ghost"? According to the common understanding of death, it refers to "physical death," that is, losing the body and the soul going elsewhere. In my case, it means abandoning the possession and returning to heaven—wouldn't that be a wonderful thing?

That Wheel of Fortune is just the sweet part of a bitter pill. The so-called disaster was brought by the extreme sports club; only they can solve it. However, before leaving the booth, I cautiously asked her, the fortune teller, for her valuable advice.

"What is the true meaning of Death?"

"The worst-case scenario," she said.

The worst-case scenario?

Is it for people? Or for me?

I didn't ask, because I didn't want to tell her, "I'm not human."

Goldfish scooping, pinball machines, ethnic handicrafts, a haunted house… there were all sorts of stalls. I just browsed around and didn't see the pretty landlady, Yin You, or Liu Ya.

Were they over at the sports field, or were they browsing the stalls like me?

"Ah, sorry!"

In a daze, I was bumped on the shoulder. I took a half step back to steady myself, grabbing the girl's arm to prevent her from falling. The girl in the nun's habit looked up and said gratefully, "Thank you."

The beautiful landlady!

A wave of overwhelming fear made my brain cells scream a level one alarm. The ghostly energy of "I absolutely can't win" disrupted my control of my body. My body went blank, reflexively knowing only that if I couldn't escape, I would die!

I quickly raised my hands to block in front of my head.

"Let's agree on no hitting your face!"

"Weirdo." She gave me a strange look, smoothed out the wrinkles in her dress, and jogged past me into the small wooden chapel of Class 2, Ouran High School Host Club.

That was close. I almost forgot I was human now. The beautiful landlady couldn't possibly recognize my face… Wait, didn't she see me in human form before? I instantly broke out in a cold sweat.

Calm down, calm down… I took a deep breath.

Did she just not recognize me for a moment? Or did she only remember my lower body?

It was just a fleeting glimpse, and I'd practically vanished into thin air that day. If she remembered any part of my body, I'd bet she'd scream, "Pervert!", "Exhibitionist!", or "Ghost!"

Thinking this, I wasn't afraid anymore. I glanced back at the spot where she'd disappeared.

"Confessional Church."

Was this a bit too creative?

Did people come to the fair seeking solace? This was probably the only small-scale charitable event; most people here weren't looking for comfort, just a place to sit, rest, and have a free cup of tea. It seemed boring, but a minute later, I paid the 20 yuan entrance fee and sat in front of the confessional she was in charge of.

The small chapel wasn't filled with remorse, but rather laughter—the kind where the priest, nuns, and confessors laughed so hard they were bent over, completely losing their composure.

Confessing to what? Too many jokes?

"Sister, I have sinned." People say even if you haven't eaten pork, you've seen pigs walk. Although some loudly proclaim that in this affluent age, proverbs should be read backwards to reflect reality, for me, that was just a spur-of-the-moment thought born of idleness.

"Don't worry, lost lamb. As long as you are honest and courageous enough to admit your mistakes, God will forgive you," the beautiful landlady said gently and compassionately, her hands clasped together.

Tsk, if I didn't know your true nature, I would have been fooled!

Having suffered quite a few setbacks, I couldn't resist the urge to play tricks on her.

"No, Sister, I'm not here to admit my mistakes, but rather to be puzzled by certain inexplicable mysteries of this world," the boy said, his melancholy masking my deliberately troubled expression.

"If you wish, you can confide in me."

Like a foolish fish jumping into a boiling pot—perfect!

"That's wonderful, Sister! You're truly an angel sent by God to save me!" I said, tears welling up as I pinched my inner thigh and twisted it halfway around. I bowed deeply, but from an angle she couldn't see, my smile was that of a demon who would travel thousands of miles to seek guidance from a master—a genuine, dark, wicked grin.

"Don't do that. It's my honor to help you!" She was taken aback by my deep bow and, flattered, quickly urged me to rise from behind the curtain.

“You deserve it, humble nun! Before I went mad, only your salvation could pull me out of the darkness!”

Wiping away the precious tears that pierced my heart, I forced a slightly hypocritical, choked voice and said, “It’s like this… Two months ago, I met a girl I admired. She was gentle, virtuous, and always greeted people with a warm smile. She was kind and generous to the poor and animals.

She excelled academically and had a great talent for art, unlike a fool like me… But what I loved most was her focused expression as she sat under the tree reading during lunch break, as if no sound in the world could disturb her. Later, I finally decided to confess my feelings to her… That was a month later.”

Seeing the beautiful landlady’s dreamy expression as she immersed herself in her fantasy, I softened my tone even more.

Good, get more into it!

“That lunch break, I walked up to her, feeling incredibly hesitant and uneasy, so nervous I could hardly breathe!” Although we are both nobles, our family power and personal talents are worlds apart... I don't know if she would even look at me, but I think I should at least try before I fail, so that my

unrequited love won't have been in vain... "But, not only does she not even glance at me, she won't even say 'no' to discourage this presumptuous suitor... Sister, I am in so much pain!"

"Don't be sad, perhaps she doesn't want to say anything that would hurt you..."

"No, she was just too engrossed in her reading and didn't hear anything."

"..."

I teased her a little, making my features even more mournful, to keep the prank going: "I reflected on it day and night, and after much agonizing, I finally came back and confessed my feelings to her. She seemed very surprised, shaking her head and telling me that she was physically weak and feared she wouldn't be able to live long enough to inherit the family business, hoping I would give up on her soon... But, Sister! Do you know?"

I suddenly leaned forward, my excited face pressed against the bamboo curtain, and while she was stunned, I seemingly unintentionally reached out and grasped her slender hand, taking advantage of her. "I'm definitely not the kind of mercenary man who only wants to be with someone because their family is wealthy and powerful! I genuinely like her! It's true! Can you understand?"

"I...I understand, please...let go of my hand..." She resisted my intentional or unintentional pinching and caressing, her face as red as a ripe tomato.

"...I'm sorry." I feigned remorse as if I had just realized something and withdrew my hand.

She sighed and said, "So your trouble is..."

"What pain it is for a man's deepest feelings to be arbitrarily misinterpreted! Born to be pursued by everyone, Sister, that kind of pain is something women can't understand."

I interrupted her, pretending to wipe away non-existent tears from the corners of my eyes: "So after I confessed my feelings, I poured out my heart to her, and after an afternoon of heart-to-heart talks... Thank God! She was moved by my persistent sincerity and finally agreed to date me!"

"Huh?" She looked bewildered, suddenly realizing that the above long introduction was all nonsense and hadn't gotten to the point at all. "Then... then your..."

I suppressed the urge to laugh, which was being suppressed, and my facial muscles were rebelling. I tried to maintain a worried expression and said, "Sister, I know you're annoyed by what I'm hearing, but I just want you to understand the ins and outs of your troubles. If you find it boring..."

"No, that's not it. I just can't wait to resolve your troubles..." she immediately covered up.

"Thank you, you're so kind!" Having half-forced her consent, I continued my fabricated love story: "After dating her, I discovered her health was worse than I'd imagined. Although she told me more than once that it was a diagnosis made by medical authorities, I still didn't give up, taking her to local clinics every day after school to seek treatment from renowned doctors."

I slammed my fist on the table indignantly: "Every quack doctor says the same thing! That prolonged sitting and lack of physical activity weakens the immune system and causes cell degeneration! She's just a bookworm! Why does she have to suffer like this?"

"Don't... get agitated, just more exercise will do..." she shrank back fearfully.

"That's right, Sister, I've decided to save her at all costs! Just the other day, the nurse in the infirmary whispered in my ear that the reason I was constantly bothered by wet sheets in the mornings was also due to lack of exercise. For my health, I made a pact with her to move around together every day, and it really worked wonders!"

"..." Her stiffness gradually melted.

If it were Fei Yue, she probably would have planted a bunch of bullets in my forehead without a second thought, as a memento!

"But not long after, she started to have second thoughts, because she still wasn't used to the noisy atmosphere in the gym." Before pushing the pretty landlady to her limit, I used a strategic retreat. Sure enough, her body relaxed.

"I had no choice but to give up on that place and bought a sports weekly that we probably couldn't understand yet, and we studied it together on a teaching program on a TV channel with poor reception."

"What kind of sports is it? Yoga? Or gymnastics?"

Sigh... what a pure and lovely girl!

"Well... it's a kind of gymnastics, or more precisely, it's a martial art from the East, containing forty-eight moves, each one an essence, infinitely varied, endlessly fun, and it can also strengthen the body." I carefully controlled my words to the level of an instructor, but I was almost laughing inside!

"Sorry... I don't know what you mean..." Unable to decipher the riddle, she vaguely felt uneasy and cast a pitiful look for help at the pseudo-clergy around her.

Receiving a shortwave SOS, a chivalrous young priest immediately patted my shoulder: "Sorry, everyone only has fifteen minutes for confession."

I stuffed all the points I'd won at the Hyacinth Class Two casino into his hand. He considered for a moment, then understood and put the points into the donation box. After brewing another pot of hot tea, he turned to serve another lost sheep awaiting salvation.

Donations truly are an important source of energy that keeps God's servants on earth, continuing to spread the gospel. Without help, she was left to face my verbal harassment like a lamb awaiting slaughter.

"She often sits and reads, so I thought maybe she enjoys sitting while practicing. But after a week, she became increasingly distant from me... Is she afraid of bad posture, or is she possessed? I think a nun is a woman too, she should understand her feelings and thoughts. I hope you can save me from this panicked and helpless situation, and from my fragile relationship with her, which is on the verge of collapse. Please!"

"I...I'm sorry, I really..."

"I beg you, nun! I love her, I value her, so I can't bear to lose her! I'm afraid that if she decides to leave me, I won't be able to handle the pressure and will have a mental breakdown. So these past few days I've been thinking: how can I keep her? Thinking about it, I often unconsciously wander into the kitchen or bathroom, only to realize when I come to my senses that I'm holding a rolling pin or hydrochloric acid...

"Nun, why am I behaving like this? Am I really possessed by a demon?" "I felt as if I had been swept into an abyss of despair with no way out. Exhausted, I stared at the floor where my footsteps had left layers of gray-white footprints. I weakly propped my face up with my hand and silently burst into laughter.

'This…this…I think…I have to ask God…' My panic could no longer be concealed.

What did she think of me? A seemingly normal, yet hidden, killer?

She might want to call the police immediately, but before that, she'd probably prefer to stay away from me, who seemed mentally unstable, lest I become the first victim!

'Extra! Extra!'

A far greater evil conspiracy ruthlessly shattered my childish, wicked plan.

'The fun competition begins! Everyone is welcome to participate in the afternoon's fun competition! There are also great prizes waiting for you!'

A black-robed ghost, his true face hidden behind a deathly white mask, held up a wooden sign with a promotional poster and 'whooshed' past, startling many passersby.

'Whoa!'

'What's that?'" "

The artistic lettering on the poster, under the high speed, had transformed into countless colorful shooting star tails. The real impact came from the black-robed ghost's own broadcast.

Many people from outside the school were also visiting the scene, and some children, whose teeth hadn't fully grown in, waved their little hands, saying in broken baby talk to the departing black figure, 'Bye-bye!'" "

Some, however, burst into loud wails.

This wailing triggered a chain reaction, the cries echoing from one street to another, unmoved by the attempts of mothers, aunts, cousins, and other relatives to soothe them.

Before the wailing subsided, figures like Julius Caesar, Egyptian pharaohs in their sarcophagi, and tall versions of Napoleon with name tags emblazoned on their bodies, riding brightly colored inline skates emblazoned with the word 'Sefer,' whizzed past, scattering candy and chocolate into the air.

These suspicious costumed individuals, each holding the same wooden sign, wandered freely, some alone, some in groups, promoting their wares at the fair.

Passersby might have been initially frightened, but after a few pairs of skaters passed by, their doubts vanished. A few cookies and candies popped into children's mouths, the sweet taste of which instantly made even the most serious matter seem insignificant, and their faces lit up with excitement as they began discussing the time and place of the fun competitions.

I and some others who had already seen through their schemes ..." The person, a member of the extreme sports club disguised as a student, couldn't laugh; my intuition told me it was a conspiracy.

Another Japanese warrior darted past, but I had no interest in admiring the ancient armor and the intricate patterns woven from its tiny cracks. My mind was solely focused on the bloody battle that the extreme sports club was about to unleash.

No doubt, this was the plan of a paparazzi. I didn't know I had the power to stop the war, but at the very least, I couldn't let myself die!

I checked my watch; only two minutes left.

I felt a growing anxiety. Running out of the fair in two minutes would be difficult, not impossible, but the risk of transforming in front of the crowds was high.

And hiding my uniform after shrinking would be a problem. If I had known this, I shouldn't have been so focused on teasing the pretty landlady; I'd only driven myself into a corner.

Self-pity wouldn't help now; I had to gamble. I ran out of the church and headed straight for the deserted student activity center. I ran, not daring to stop.

Please look forward to the sequel to "Restricted Lovers," Episode

3. Episode Synopsis:

Episode 3, Chapter 1: The Meeting.

This isn't some myth, fairy tale, or some kind of supernatural story; of course, it's impossible to run to the activity center, which is far away, in two minutes!

I was both unlucky and lucky, finding a new world in the green maze on the southwest side of the garden. Inside, there were artificial hills, flowing water, small bridges, and pavilions. Next to the two-meter-high tree wall, there were two vending machines, selling various drinks, biscuits, signal flares, matches, and most importantly, maze maps.

Probably to prevent those with terrible sense of direction from dying!

Although this maze wasn't large enough to cause death, to maintain a good relationship with students' parents and ensure smooth future payment channels, the security measures were exaggerated.

I quickly took off my uniform, wrapped it in a plastic bag I picked up on the road, and stuffed it into a hollow table pillar. This is not very elegant. Unfortunately, my transformation was witnessed by a naive little girl. Luckily, when her distraught mother found her, she dismissed my antics as nonsense, not seeing me hiding behind the vending machine.

The gap in the vending machine faced the pavilion and the exit, making it easily visible to anyone passing by. The operating machine bore the heavy responsibility of providing heat, forcing me to stay there for five hours, or until the carnival ended and everyone left after dark.

Ultimately, the limitations of transformation were quite annoying, and the sixty-minute time limit was unsatisfactory. However, I didn't want to always be a shameful massage stick, and maintaining human form was forbidden by Heaven. The time I gained by the gatekeeper's secret medicine causing side effects, which had kept it hidden from Heaven, was precious.

Even if the gatekeeper later discovered his mistake and violated even more serious heavenly rules, unless God noticed, he, as the perpetrator, wouldn't dare to report the truth.

Waiting time always seems to drag on endlessly. Bored and listless, I huddled behind the vending machine, doing nothing but plucking leaves, breaking branches, playing with my fingers, gazing at the sky, or picking up the loose change that rolled into the machine to earn some extra cash.

Two hours barely passed. During this time, only a handful of passersby walked by; everyone was busy browsing the stalls and watching the competition. Only a young couple remained in the pavilion, whispering sweet nothings to each other.

I didn't intentionally eavesdrop, but they assumed no one was around, and emboldened by the rare absence of third wheels, they became bolder, exchanging sweet nothings and passionate kisses, their intimacy almost enviable.

This behavior, as expected, drew divine wrath. Soon after, the bell tolled twelve times, followed by an unpleasant announcement.

The young lovers abruptly stopped their affectionate display.

"Event report: The morning's events have concluded. The winners are announced: Men's 100-meter sprint, first place, Hyacinth Class Two..."

The boy listened intently, then, after a moment, exclaimed a surprised "Yay!"

"What's wrong?" The girl nudged his chest, seemingly a little jealous of his focused attention on the broadcast.

"You don't know," the boy quickly explained, seeing his girlfriend's lingering resentment. "According to past practice, if the photography club is involved, other athletes have no chance of winning."

"So?" The girl pouted, still seemingly resentful of his distraction during his peak performance.

"Didn't you notice? The athletes whose names were just called out are all ordinary students."

"Oh, right!" The girl exclaimed in surprise after the explanation. "Could the list have been tampered with?"

"How could that be? What ordinary people can do, the photography club can do even more ruthlessly, let alone something as trivial as forging documents!"

I nodded in agreement.

Indeed, although altering the award list was the only way to outmaneuver the photography club at the sports meet, if it came down to being shameless, the photography club would undoubtedly win.

"Then tell me what happened?" the girl said angrily. "The photography club has changed its ways? Turned over a new leaf?"

"Impossible!" The boy was on the same page as me, speaking with absolute certainty and conviction: "Those scoundrels definitely have something else in mind. By the way, weren't they advertising some kind of fun competition at the fair? I swear on my life, it's definitely a scheme!"

"What use is your dimwitted brain?" The girl smiled and gave the boy a playful push: "Don't think that I should go home early because of this. If you stay at school, I'll stay with you. Maybe I won't be able to help much, but since I know the photography club has ulterior motives, how can I let you be bullied by them all?"

The boy was moved, and the two began exchanging glances again, their faces involuntarily drawing closer and closer, their lips growing ever shorter.

"Okay, stop! Stop!"

Before the kiss could reach a conclusion, it was abruptly interrupted by a certain 100,000-volt yellow glowing object.

The two, eyes closed and completely lost in their own world, scrambled back in a panic. They saw C, dressed as a terracotta warrior, crouching at their feet, eyeing them greedily.

The girl screamed, her first instinct being to straighten her skirt to prevent further exposure. The boy, unable to resist the common trait, stepped forward like a hero, protecting what only he could see.

"A photography club?!"

Sigh, no wonder some say love is blind. To not even realize a grown man brazenly approaching like that—if he were to lose his life over it someday, he'd be utterly foolish!

I thought to myself.

"Flirting with a bachelor in broad daylight is a serious crime punishable by beheading!" C, propping his chin on his hand, mischievously sabotaged the situation, saying, "Why pretend to be so affectionate? You're not necessarily going to grow old together anyway, and you might end up just taking care of someone else's wife. What's the point? If there's a breakthrough, that would be great, and you could get your money back with interest..."

"You...you better not kick me when I'm down!" The boy clenched his fists, his face flushed.

“Whether you admit it or not, the undeniable facts will not change.” C flicked his right hand, his thumb brushing against his four fingers, and a row of photos instantly fanned out in a cool breeze: “It’s really hot, isn’t it?”

The girl’s pupils dilated, staring incredulously at the photos of the same man and different women, her face filled with grief and indignation as she glared at the boy and questioned, “Is this real?”

The boy, sweating profusely, denied it: “It’s fake, it’s a composite photo designed by the photography studio. I’ve been with you almost all day, how could I have time to go out and flirt with other women?” The girl

thought about it calmly and seemed to find it quite reasonable, so she held the boy’s hand tightly, unmoved by his provocation.

"I remember you two were in different classes, right?" C pointed to the date in the lower right corner of the photo. "Why don't you check the guy's leave records to verify?"

"Finally, you've given yourself away!" The boy, seizing a glimmer of hope, excitedly presented evidence: "So far, my attendance record is perfect. The photo is fake; you're just making baseless accusations!"

"Oh, I forgot to mention, skipping class and having someone protect you naturally leaves no stain on your record. It's a common trick used by men skilled at cheating." "

You, you..."

"Stop pretending. It's better to tell the truth. I'm afraid your lovely girlfriend will be heartbroken after I show her the video..." C whistled melodiously, the photo still fluttering in the wind. "Oh dear, you're really cunning. How did I even get my hands on such a private thing..."

"Please stop stirring up trouble!" The girl finally said angrily, "No matter what, it's a problem between the two of us. It has nothing to do with you. Is it so fun to sow discord between others?"

“I admit I was meddling, but before you accused me, the guy standing next to you seemed to have something to hide?” C glanced at the sweat-drenched boy and reassured the girl, “Don’t worry, half the world’s population is male. Subtract the old, the young, and those uninterested in beautiful women, your market value is still quite high.”

“Don’t listen to him!” the boy cried, pulling the girl back. “We’ve known each other for so long, don’t you know my character? He’s just from the photography club… You… do you believe me or him?”

Idiot, who explains things like that? It’s making things worse!

I gritted my teeth, ripped off a handful of leaves, used them as a metaphor for that idiot’s head, and stomped on them.

The girl didn’t answer, but with a “smack!” she slapped C across the face.

C froze, the boy froze, and I froze too.

“Please don’t do this again!” the girl said sternly, then took the boy’s hand and strode away.

But this ordeal didn’t seem to be going to end so easily.

The girl held her chin high, her trusting gaze fixed on the smug boy who thought he had won, but a subtle change had occurred. It seemed those photos had truly broken her heart.

Seeing that look, I sighed softly. One of the women in the photos was indeed the Rose Girl; the rumors were utterly debunked. Couldn't she have been a little more confident?

"Sigh, her boyfriend's a womanizer, and she's blaming me. No wonder people say a woman's intuition is always spot on." C, seemingly disappointed, rubbed her cheek.

"You're really something, managing to fool another couple who seemed so infatuated. You really need to change that ingrained bad habit." The paparazzi tossed a bag of fragrant fries to C.

"Success again, as always." C caught the snacks, stuffing half a bag into her mouth in the blink of an eye. "Love really can't withstand tests."

"Not just can't withstand tests, it simply can't be tested at all," the paparazzi said.

"Do you have the right to say that?"

"My situation is an exception."

“Exceptions are just the privilege of certain individuals.”

“Ha! Did you hear me right? The vice president has been defied!” A, dressed as Helix, strode heavily behind him, while everyone else, except B, who was still dressed as an Eskimo, had changed back into their uniforms.

Entering the pavilion, the group sat or stood, forming a perfect circle.

The octagonal pavilion exuded an elegant Chinese style, specifically mentioned in the student handbook as a work attempted by a French architect during his first encounter with Eastern culture.

Long stone benches were placed between the red pillars, and the floor beneath them was etched with trigrams: northwest was Qian (representing Heaven); southwest was Kun (representing Earth); northeast was Gen (representing Mountain); southeast was Xun (representing Wind); east was Zhen (representing Thunder); west was Dui (representing Lake); south was Li (representing Fire); and north was Kan (representing Water).

Each hexagram is encased in its symbolic representation; the Li hexagram is surrounded by a flame, the Kan hexagram by water, and so on. However, the southeast only has a graphic image without a stone chair. This is because the Xun hexagram's virtue is "entry," signifying entering, and thus it serves as an entrance/exit.

"Hurry up, I'm busy. It'd better have something exciting to do, otherwise don't waste my time."

F squinted, sat down in the Zhen position, his uniform unbuttoned, revealing his upper body. His rapidly tapping feet showed extreme impatience, and his murderous gaze always made me tremble uncontrollably. Because of long hours of working tirelessly to slaughter countless innocent people and righteous individuals, his hair was always jet black, and his short hair was constantly disheveled from lack of grooming.

He was the person I feared most in the entire extreme sports club. He looked like a complete madman, with a gloomy gaze, a cold tone, and a fittingly evil name: Sauron.

Normally, he liked to hole up in the clubroom playing video games, all of which were invariably filled with gore and violence. He would often laugh wildly at the blood-soaked screen, like a serial killer contemplating his masterpiece. I even suspected he had become so mentally unstable that he needed to be hospitalized, but the rest of the club ignored him.

Perhaps it was because he was a third-year student, graduating in less than a year, so there was no reason to interfere.

"Brother, the vice president mentioned this yesterday... you were just too engrossed in your game to hear it," H said fearfully, in a way that wouldn't offend his older brother, as he approached Soren.

I imagine he was terrified right now. Soren's clutches didn't discriminate based on who you were, and as his younger brother, Pluto must have felt this more acutely than anyone else.

The two were only a year apart in age and were the only brothers in the club. Unlike Soren, Pluto was like a bewildered angel. His dark green hair was neatly combed, and his uniform was clean and crisp—a model student. He was approachable, but somewhat timid, and his eyes were overly timid, probably due to long-term bullying.

In casual conversation, he revealed that he had lost a portion of his memory in his childhood for unknown reasons, and he always suspected it was due to inhumane abuse by Soren, but he never had the courage to ask.

Of course, when facing a ferocious beast, the farther away the better. Why walk into the tiger's den and get beaten up for nothing?

He also confided in me privately that because Soren was too self-centered and always made decisions for him, he was forced to join the extreme sports club. He originally wanted to run, but fortunately he met i. The two shared similar interests and sympathized with each other, encouraging each other to avoid a mental breakdown.

"Are you lecturing me?" Soren roughly grabbed Pluto by the neck and dragged him to his side. "You little brat who was born a year after me just need to obey and not try to climb over me!"

"Yes...yes." Pluto's face flushed red as he tried to pry his brother's wrists open to get some fresh air.

"If it weren't for the fact that we share the same blood, you should be dead by now!" Soren seemed to realize that Pluto was really about to die, and then he let go. As soon as he was free, Pluto immediately scrambled to the Kun position and snuggled up to i.

"..." e sat down next to Soren and said something, as if she was standing up for Pluto.

"I know, you keep repeating the same few lines, aren't you tired of it!" Soren reached up and brushed his bangs back, his tone just as sharp, but he didn't make any extra physical movements.

E, whose fiery name is Far, is a classmate of Soren. He's fairly decent, but he's always swearing. Because of environmental concerns, I can never understand what he's saying. Soren occasionally acts as a translator or spokesperson, but most of the time, I guess what E is saying based on his answers.

Perhaps because of his long-term silence, E harbors a lot of resentment, so he spends his time in the chemistry lab making explosives. Naturally, he gives his prototypes to Soren for testing, which is why the two have a fairly good relationship. It's also thanks to E's help in suppressing the smothering of the situation that the club can maintain a balance.

"Xirui, sit here." In the center of the pavilion is a round table with four chairs, representing the four elements. J sits facing north, opposite the paparazzi in the Kan position, pointing to the stone chair to the west and ordering I.

To be honest, J is as domineering as his name, Dilu, a man of great talent and ambition, only his face is a bit pale, like a vampire.

In my opinion, he's more suitable for the vice-president position than the paparazzi. Many members privately agree, but he's naturally averse to trouble, so he used his advanced grade and graduation exam preparations as an excuse to step back and let others take the lead.

As for i, he also has a tragic life. Like the beautiful landlady, he comes from a once-noble family that has fallen on hard times, but his situation is even more pitiful, so poor he almost has to beg. Fortunately, his neighbor, the exceptionally wealthy J, offered him a helping hand, allowing him to barely attend school. However, this also made him J's pet, and his human rights plummeted.

Now, when J says something, he can only push up his thick glasses and sit down beside him without daring to utter a sound.

Undeniably, J did do a good deed, preventing i's natural talent for studying from being buried. With the second-best pre-reading and absorption of the material, coupled with insightful analysis and summarization, J, with his photographic memory, also rightfully ascended to the top spot in the entire grade—truly a case of gratitude and good deeds being rewarded.

"Looks like someone's missing?" G asked, leaning against the red pillar between "Gan" and "Dui".

His assessment was simply "overly kind," was that true? God knows! At least that's what A told me. Because of A's straightforwardness, I quickly learned about the backgrounds of each club member, but I only had the least information about G—the senior Shi Jing A mentioned.

According to A, G is an overly kind person—something he repeatedly emphasized. From freshman year, he was a core member of the extreme sports club, incredibly kind, especially towards Pluto and Xirui, practically a god.

But he left the club for half a year in sophomore year, only to rejoin later; the reason for his departure remains a secret and taboo. Surprisingly, the truth seems to be known only to Fal, but only Soren can hear Fal's language. Regardless of whether Fal revealed this secret to Soren, even if he did, getting information out of the eccentric and extreme Soren wouldn't be so easy.

However, A had also said that everyone already shared an unspoken consensus: to maintain the club's standing, one shouldn't have excessively presumptuous curiosity, unless one could also offer up the greatest amount of privacy.

"Indeed, one person is missing," B, sitting on the Gen trigram, also said.

The paparazzi was about to speak when suddenly there was a whooshing sound of wind, and a voice said, "Hey, slow down, slow down, I'm here!"

A shadow fell on my face, and I opened my mouth wide. Fortunately, my mind remained calm and commanded my body to keep a low profile, because moving objects only attract attention.

The person bent their legs slightly, leaped sideways over the tree wall, and stretched out their arms, maintaining a perfect balance, like a gliding eagle, free and majestic.

If he had lowered his head, I would have been completely exposed. Luckily, his gaze was entirely focused on his companions at the moment, and even if he glanced at me out of the corner of his eye, he wouldn't have looked at this secluded corner. I watched with a sense of foreboding as he leaped over my head, the silver cross necklace that had slipped off his collar stinging me in the sunlight.

He didn't land directly on the ground, but first stepped on top of the vending machine. The square metal box made a loud "clang!" sound, triggering some mechanism, and a can of drink rolled down.

Using the momentum, the man performed a forward somersault with two and a half somersaults and a full rotation in the air, precisely stepping on A's calloused hand that was clasped together, leaping upwards, bending over and tucking his knees, performing a backward somersault with two and a half somersaults, before landing precisely on the stone table. He raised his arms high, proudly finishing his flawless, fluid movement, only to see the paparazzi frown and say, "Ah Fei... couldn't you have made your entrance a little more simple?"

"Haha, sorry, sorry, because I was a few minutes late, I had to take the shortcut!" The man scratched the back of his head, his smile possessing a magical power to dispel any anger.

His surname was Su, and his given name was Fei. He spent his days skateboarding or inline skating, with a carefree personality and none of the demeanor expected of a third-year senior. He hated being called by his full name more than anything.

"You can call me Xiao Su, Xiao Fei, Asu, or Asfei, just don't call me by my full name and give me the wrong idea, or I'll beat you to a pulp!" That's what he told me on my first day in the extreme sports club.

However, his principle was selective. I heard Soren call him "elastic bodysuit" or "extra-long nighttime version" more than once, and he just smiled and didn't dare to do anything.

Still shaken, I hid myself even more, pricking up my ears to listen carefully to their conversation.

"It doesn't matter before the meeting starts, but there are no judges here, you can come down now." The paparazzi didn't get him scratched, but he seemed to be unable to tolerate Su Fei continuing to trample on that bag of fried food that was no longer edible.

"Okay." Su Fei nodded and somersaulted off the table.

At the voyeur's instruction, Ash smashed the wooden sign into pieces with his bare hands and gave the pieces to the plants as a treat; A strode over to the vending machine, tossed in a handful of coins, and I could only hear a series of "thump! thump! thump!" sounds as a pile of items fell through the dispenser.

A placed the mountain of items on the table, handing the discarded cold drink to Su Fei.

"All bought up." It was all signal flares.

"Good." The voyeur tossed the distress signals into the pool.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" B asked.

"Exactly, it's not difficult at all. A lot of small fry are still small fry, right? Don't try to fool me with that old example of a pair of chopsticks that can't be broken. That's only because the father and son are weak and have no strength in their wrists, which makes them good role models. It doesn't apply to us," A added.

"This isn't about absolving myself, I don't take any responsibility," the paparazzi said. "Although it's for personal reasons, if it's not based on personal grudges, it's just one-sided nonsense. What we're challenging this time is the 'unknown' that existing projects can't provide, that is, the limit of randomness. We'll bet on whether ten out of a thousand people have the ability to surpass us."

"This event can not only test their strength, but also be seen as a way to promote our club. If one or two of these ten people happen to be students of this school, we can consider recruiting them into the club. Of course, we never regret our choices. As a warm-up for the distant finals, this experiment is open to all. Anyone who wants to cause a ruckus, come on over!"

"Exciting! Okay, I'm in!" A immediately agreed.

"A different kind of limit... it's worth a try." B also readily agreed.

"Alright... friendly support." C signed his name. "Ash, you too, right?"

"No, I'll just watch." The boy in black declined.

Losing a comrade, C's face fell, but he didn't insist.

"Heh...heh heh...that's it, kill all the bastards!" Soren's laughter, sometimes high, sometimes low, drifted in and out of tune.

"I..." Pluto stammered, looking uneasily at the paparazzi, as if seeking some kind of promise.

"Coward, don't even think about running away!" Soren glared at him, immediately relinquishing his right to speak.

"..." Fal.

"Okay." Soren.

--Why is even the word "okay" censored!

The paparazzi nodded to indicate understanding, then looked at Dilo.

"Have you seen it? Anchor." Dilo suddenly said, his majestic eyes meeting the paparazzi's gaze, seemingly carrying a hint of weariness towards the daylight, his long silver-blue hair tied back with black satin, his aura cold.

"Iron barbs." The paparazzi said without question, without haste, and without questioning the seemingly unrelated question.

"Do you know how many parts this simple yet heavy thing can be divided into?"

Di Luo leisurely posed his second question, waiting for the photographer's reaction. When the photographer shook his head as if expectantly, he began to describe it as if reciting a familiar story.

"From top to bottom, there's the anchor ring fastened to the anchor chain, forming a 90-degree angle with the vertical anchor shaft, creating a horizontal anchor rod; the hoops on the anchor shaft, and the hoops on the hoops; the crescent-shaped anchor crown connected to the base of the anchor shaft. The anchor crown can be further subdivided into three sections: the anchor throat, the anchor arm, and the blade-like anchor claws; the sharpest part of the anchor claws is the claw tip."

"What the hell is this? It's all so confusing!" A clutched his head, clearly dizzy from Di Luo's convoluted string of nonsense. This academic stuff was probably just not his physique. "This is such a hassle!"

"Exactly." Di Luo nodded, indirectly answering the paparazzi's question with a sense of shared experience. He glanced up and saw Xi Rui looking down, secretly letting out a sigh of relief.

"As for me, of course I'll participate!" Su Fei said.

"My report is almost finished, but I can still participate."

Hearing Shi Jing say this, Pluto smiled gratefully.

One by one, the club members expressed their willingness, and of the twelve present, nine ultimately agreed to participate.

"Nine people...that's a pretty good number." After things were settled, the paparazzi counted the heads and said with satisfaction. "However, this year we're switching to team competitions, so consider it a slight concession. Always fighting individually, our teamwork needs to be cultivated. Those who haven't participated yet, don't rush off; your valuable suggestions are also needed."

He opened the student handbook, his index finger moving across the paper as he spoke: "Once the event starts, it's inevitable that the weaker players will form factions. Let them be; there's no need to divide them. Useless burdens can be left to hinder the opponent, then wipe them out in one fell swoop. Eliminate the most threatening ones first to increase your chances of winning. Remember: victory is our only goal."

"However, today the professors are on holiday, the administration building is locked, and the library is closed. The only large buildings available are the teaching building, activity center, swimming pool, and sports hall. The rest are open-air areas. The opponent will likely avoid these vulnerable spots, but they might also do the opposite.

"Also, the sports meet only lasts until about five o'clock, after which the chairman of the board will return to preside over the awards ceremony. Therefore, all activities must end no later than 4:50." Dilu weighed the time.

"Exactly, does everyone understand?" "The paparazzi confirmed again, and seeing that all the participating club members nodded, he said, 'Then let's proceed as planned. First, we'll divert the prey's attention and seal off the entire campus.'

'I think... the teaching building and the activity center would be the best gathering places,' Xi Rui pushed up his slipped glasses and offered his opinion. 'These two places not only have many floors and classrooms, making it easy to accommodate the elderly, women, and children, but also have tables and chairs for hiding and protection, and can be used to change offensive and defensive positions depending on the terrain.'"

"Moreover, depending on the type of classroom, specific weapons and armor can be obtained, making it an excellent location. We should prioritize this place for a surprise attack. Of course, if we can capture this place first, the enemy's momentum will be halved, and they will no longer pose any threat."

"What kind of cowardly theory is that! We are guerrillas, the proactive force, snipers who cut down the prey. We should take the initiative and kill them all!" Soren's eyes widened, and he spoke through gritted teeth.

"That's right, I also agree with guerrilla warfare. If we stay in one place, our obvious locations are easily surrounded, which is extremely dangerous! It's better to act covertly or use a hit-and-run strategy!" As if to prove that he was not blindly supporting Soren's massacre theory, Su Fei also offered a rather convincing explanation.

"Whether it's guerrilla warfare or not, just do your best. Why think so much?" A said.

"What you said makes a lot of sense." The paparazzi closed his eyes and pondered for a while, then closed the student handbook behind his back.

"However, the existing student activity center, teaching buildings, swimming pool, playground, gymnasium, tennis courts, and central garden are still too cramped. Let's open the library and administration building as well. Let Ashu handle the unlocking; this is pre-planning and has nothing to do with the war, okay?"

The boy in black nodded.

"Wait, this is going too far!" C suddenly changed his tune, raising a large flag of opposition: "Didn't you think about the consequences of damaging the library? Heaven knows which professors have masterpieces in the history paper section; if we burn them, even our best servants won't be enough to break our legs!

"Besides, quite a few professors have turned the administration building into their second home, especially that neurotic, long-bearded Professor Lilang, who hides all his junk he's afraid his wife will secretly sell in the professors' lounge. If we get deliberately targeted for damaging his treasures during exams, it'll be a huge loss!"

"What are you afraid of?" "Soren's face contorted with rage as he furiously scratched at the uneven, gritty surface of the chair, leaving five clear streaks of white powder on the rough surface.

"War always involves sacrifice. The idea of winning without firing a single shot is something only a brain-dead idiot would have! Seriously though, if those morons hadn't hidden in the library and administration building, we wouldn't have accidentally smashed something so important! They should be the ones paying for it!" "

What a terrible, tactless, yet conveniently convenient way to shift blame!"

I overheard from behind the vending machine, secretly alarmed.

Though it's a selfish and self-destructive mindset, once the other party realizes the photography club's destructive intentions and takes responsibility for the destruction, fear and pressure will force them to become extremely cautious, afraid to hide near expensive items for fear of losing their lives but most of their money in a fight.

As the saying goes, "A penny can kill a hero," this tactic is most effective against fallen nobles, and even more deadly against ordinary people.

"This wasn't my intention," the paparazzi said calmly. "Going easy on them is one thing, but don't take advantage of too many people. This event has a huge number of participants; the medicine in the teaching building alone won't be enough."

"That medical room isn't nearly as well-equipped or advanced as the three dedicated medical rooms in the administration building specifically set up for the elderly professors. Moreover, the main purpose of expanding the battle zone and increasing search time and difficulty is to test just how wide your limits are, without deviating from your own principles. Sniping the enemy doesn't have to be accompanied by destruction. Those unfamiliar with this can take this rare opportunity to study it."

"You mean, we should use our individual limits to win this fierce battle?" B tilted his head in thought.

"You could say that. But the most important thing is cooperation, not individual fooling around," said the paparazzi.

"Hmph, that makes it much more interesting!" Soren laughed.

This is terrible!

Winning by using individual limits, in another sense, is equivalent to unlimited destruction?

I can't even imagine what a horrific mess this place will be in after the fun competition ends! After all, Sefer Academy is a century-old historical site with commemorative value! And a very expensive one at that!

Although I'm not the founder, seeing such a magnificent Gothic building crumble into a pile of rubble would make me cry my eyes out!

"How cunning."

Di Luo closed his eyes, a gesture that lasted almost a minute. Just when I thought he was about to take a nap, or was already asleep, he slowly opened his eyes again, turned his head, and stared intently at Xi Rui. Xi Rui, embarrassed, turned his face away, avoiding that strange gaze.

"Since the vice president has put it that way, we can't refuse, can we?"

"...Yes." Asking would probably be superfluous. I think for Xi Rui, there was no room for disobeying his master's orders.

"And what about you, Ash?" Seeing that the two who weren't originally going to participate immediately abandoned their plans after hearing this, C's hope was rekindled.

The black-clad boy still shook his head. "Sorry."

"Alright, the list is settled then. Those who are not participating in the battle, please make a record for us without interfering with the battle. Meeting adjourned!" The paparazzi clapped his hands, the applause like the key to breaking the hypnosis

. The members moved away from the pavilion one by one, scattering in all directions. "Hey, you seem to have forgotten to mention the most important thing." After everyone had left, C, who was still sitting on the steps, reminded the paparazzi.

"Really?"

"Tactics, tactics!"

"Oh, that..." The paparazzi chuckled, "Theory without action won't get you anywhere. Besides, nobody really has the patience to listen to the whole thing. It's better to adjust things according to the situation later, and it'll also help practice our reactions. There are a lot of things we need to train for this event!"

"Hey, the stakes are so high, aren't you afraid Yingying will go crazy?"

"No, she agreed."

"What?!" C exclaimed, immediately denying it, "Impossible!"

"There's nothing impossible about it. If she wins, I'll have to atone with my death and disappear from the face of the earth. The dead are the greatest, so even if the gamblers are dissatisfied, they shouldn't make a fuss anymore."

"That's ridiculous! What if we win?"

"Don't talk like it's against all reason for the extreme sports club to win." The paparazzi said, "If we win, it's only right for the defeated country to cede territory and pay reparations."

"That's ruthless! But as for the chairman... sigh, I hope when he comes back, the school club hasn't gone crooked, the clock tower hasn't tilted, and the roof of the gymnasium hasn't developed holes..."

“That’s no problem.” A talisman was slapped onto C’s forehead. “I already submitted the activity application to the school.”

“Huh!” The unattached paper slid off gently, and C caught it with both palms. “Activity application form?”

“According to school rules, if any public property is damaged during an approved activity, the school can reimburse the expenses, but only if the damaged item is ‘public property’ and not unique. If a loser with a bad gambling habit complains to the chairman, this will be a good excuse.”

“That makes things much simpler!” C said happily, his eyes quickly scanning the contents of the application form. "However... it's best not to tell the other club members about this."

"That's right, so I'll have to trouble you to keep an eye on everyone else's behavior, and make sure they don't overstep their bounds."

"That's easy." C agreed, but then, with a strange look, glanced at the paparazzi, his lips twitched as if he were considering something. Finally, he said bluntly, "Not to be rude... but the activity details are very vague, not even a single item is described. It's too hasty and ambiguous! Has the school really agreed to hold this fun competition?"

"Of course not. To be honest, the event organizers rejected the application as soon as they saw it was from a photography club," the paparazzi revealed.

"Then this seal..."

"It's real, but I stamped it."

"Hey, this is forgery!"

"The seal is real, the document is real, and it was applied for through legal procedures. All the faculty and staff in the activity group witnessed the director stamping it (actually, it was the application rejection stamp). There's nothing to deny."

"Given the quality of the surveillance cameras there, as long as the videotape is pulled up, it's possible to identify which seal it is." C looked at the shameless smile of the paparazzi, knowing that something must have been done, and couldn't help but sigh, "But to do something like this, the surveillance camera would have to be pointed at the activity group director, right? I wasted my time worrying about you!"

"Your worries are not unfounded. No matter how strong I am, I only have one head. I can't always take care of everything. Many times, if it weren't for your help, I definitely wouldn't be able to handle it alone. It's just that I'm sorry to have dragged you into this not-so-simple place, the extreme sports club."

"Why are you saying this now? It's so cheesy!"

The terracotta warrior makeup made it impossible for me to see if C's face was flushed, but his features were somewhat out of place.

"Actually, I really hope one of you can come to your senses soon."

"It's possible, but close to zero. If Rex and I weren't both so stubborn, how could we have been fighting like this for so long?"

"...Don't you get tired at all?"

"Excited."

"Sigh, you're all like this, it keeps me from letting go of this!" Hearing the paparazzi's answer, C's cement-wall-like makeup finally couldn't withstand the repeated frowns and peeled off in patches. "A long-running soap opera will only have a bad ending. You should pick a time to have a final showdown by the river, so I don't age prematurely and die young."

"I'll take that into consideration." The paparazzi's thin lips curved into a crescent moon, and he was about to leave when C called him back.

“Ryan.”

“Hmm?”

“Are you hiding something from me?”

The paparazzi paused, but his smile was perfectly natural: “I’ve always been very honest with you.”

“That’s good.” C said softly, seemingly accepting the paparazzi’s perfunctory attitude. He patted his butt, got up, smoothed out his smudged makeup, and followed him out of the pavilion.

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