"?!"
The moment he saw that grotesque smiling face, Wen Jianyan jolted. But when he focused his gaze again, the puppet that had turned its head had already disappeared among the countless spinning figures.
The melodious waltz music filled the entire dance studio, the footsteps rhythmic and even, landing on every beat.
But the face of every dancer reflected in the mirror was ashen and white like a corpse, making what should have been a beautiful scene exceptionally bizarre.
"…"
Wen Jianyan stared intently at the puppets in the dance studio, a flicker in his eyes, his thoughts unknown.
Suddenly, he turned his head to look at the puppet in front of him.
The same smooth, featureless wooden face, a simple cylindrical torso and limbs. From any angle, his "dance partner" was no different from the other puppets in the room.
The puppet held his hand with one hand and supported his waist with the other, its movements standard and flawless.
Even through the thin shirt, Wen Jianyan could clearly feel the touch of the other's fingers on his lower back—cold, hard, genuine wood.
During another spin, Wen Jianyan took the opportunity to glance into the mirror.
In the vast dance studio, the other puppets—or rather, corpses—were all clearly reflected in the mirror. Their dead faces were ashen and grotesque, their rigid forms clearly restored by the reflection.
However, the mirror only reflected him, all alone.
His two hands were raised, resting on the formless air in front of him, as if he were dancing a solo to the music.
"..."
Next, Wen Jianyan couldn't help but look at the puppet that was his "dance partner."
Its face was smooth and pale, and its featureless face was also expressionless.
Finally, he took a deep breath, as if he had secretly made up his mind.
Wen Jianyan pressed his fingers down firmly on the puppet's shoulder, and with his other hand, he took hold of the puppet's wooden hand, his long, slender fingers spreading and easily slipping between the puppet's fingers.
"…"
The puppet's fingers were forced open.
After a brief, almost imperceptible pause, the puppet's fingers quickly closed, firmly holding the human's hand in its cold palm.
The young man used his core strength, his slender, resilient waist bending as he leaned to one side.
Under the force of gravity, the human's waist pressed firmly against the puppet's hand, soft, warm flesh spilling from between the hard wooden fingers.
The puppet's steps seemed to falter for a moment.
Taking advantage of the backbend, Wen Jianyan's steps followed.
With the brief pause in the music, everything seemed so natural, elegant, and perfectly coordinated.
Although his body was quite flexible, strictly speaking, Wen Jianyan was not a skilled and perfect dancer.
He knew a little about dancing, but that was the extent of it.
But the good news was… the waltz wasn't entirely about dance.
Besides its most primitive artistic attribute, it was also about confrontation, cooperation, pulling, and manipulation.
And this was precisely what Wen Jianyan was best at.
In just a few breaths, the man and the puppet were no longer in their original position.
Although he wasn't the lead dancer, Wen Jianyan had effortlessly seized control, subtly exerting his influence and cleverly leading his supposed lead partner away from their original spot.
In the "Integrity First" live room:
[My goodness, the anchor isn't leading, but his control over the direction is comparable to the lead.]
[And the puppet is actually letting him lead it in that direction. It's truly strange.]
[Can any of the old hands who've seen the dance elective explain? Do you know what the anchor is planning to do?]
And that part of the audience who had watched the dance elective and knew its rules clearly were just as suspicious as the others.
[Seeing the direction he's going, could he be planning to…]
[That shouldn't be right. He hasn't taken the dance elective, how would he know? He shouldn't have the means, right?]
[Could it be a coincidence?]
[Uh, but this is a bit too much of a coincidence…]
While the live stream was in a heated debate, unable to reach a consensus, Wen Jianyan, without anyone noticing, had already led his "partner" to the very center of the classroom.
The four-sided mirrors reflected the bright lights, the polished floor, and the puppets dancing to the music.
Wen Jianyan rested his hand on the puppet's shoulder. As the dance steps quickened, he turned his head, observing the surrounding puppets through the gaps in their rotation.
They looked as if they were cast from the same mold. The lights from above fell on their smooth, hard bodies, so bright they reflected the light.
From their appearance alone, it was impossible to tell them apart. And now, far from the mirror, Wen Jianyan could no longer use the reflection to see their true forms.
…So what should he do?
Wen Jianyan fell into deep thought.
The smooth music continued to flow—perhaps because of the passage of time, the tempo gradually quickened, seemingly pushing towards a higher climax.
The next second, Wen Jianyan felt his hand being released.
Then, two hard wooden hands grabbed his waist, and with a sudden exertion of force, actually lifted him up.
His vision began to spin rapidly.
In a dizzy spell, Wen Jianyan subconsciously pressed his hand on the puppet's shoulder, uncharacteristically flustered.
He panted, looking around with his peripheral vision.
The other puppets were making the same movement, their hands raised as if lifting invisible partners into the air—it seemed this was the standard form of this piece.
In his spinning vision, Wen Jianyan caught a glimpse of a smooth, flat puppet face not far away seeming to tilt for a moment, looking in this direction.
His heart skipped a beat, and he immediately looked in that direction, but the tiny inconsistency was already drowned in the continuously spinning crowd of puppets, completely lost.
Wen Jianyan was set down, panting slightly.
As time went on, the well-maintained distance that conformed to social etiquette was erased without a trace.
The already close puppet body was now right in front of him.
If Wen Jianyan's breathing was just a little heavier, his rising and falling chest would touch the other's cold, hard wooden body. Moving was even more so; they were practically sticking together.
Wen Jianyan: "…"
He couldn't help but look towards the other puppets.
They seemed no different from before. However, their partners were just air, but from the puppets' movements, he really couldn't tell anything—
However, at that moment, not far away, the tilted wooden face flashed past.
"?!"
Wen Jianyan's gaze paused.
Once or twice was a coincidence.
A third time was definitely not.
He inconspicuously looked towards the mirror—in the upper right corner, the blood-red letters were still vivid and glaring. In the last few seconds, it had briefly changed from B to C, but then slowly rose again with the passage of time, returning to B.
As if realizing something, Wen Jianyan smiled slightly.
With the accelerating music, he skillfully guided his "partner," inconspicuously spinning towards the direction where the anomaly had appeared.
It should be right around here.
Wen Jianyan stopped changing direction.
The speed of the music was still increasing, the melody growing more passionate. Along with the quickening steps of the puppets, the entire dance was being continuously pushed towards a more difficult direction.
However, at that moment, Wen Jianyan suddenly relaxed his body.
The steps that had been deliberately controlled, occasionally missing a few beats, suddenly became standard.
The body that had been as tense as a string became elegant and relaxed, flowing like water to coordinate with his partner's steps.
Wen Jianyan watched his dance partner, his expression focused, his eyes passionate.
In the "Integrity First" live room:
[!!!]
[Holy shit, the anchor's eyes… are making my face red.]
[Ahhhhhhh, you punk, who are you seducing?!!]
[I hate that he's dancing with a block of wood!!!]
Wen Jianyan was no master.
But he was good at this, just as he was good at tricking people.
In a waltz, he was the perfect partner, always mastering the ambiguous distance perfectly. You advance, I retreat. You move away, I approach.
He was so unpredictable. Even if he was distant, he would soon embrace you with passion.
As the music grew more passionate, the young man's expression became more focused, his eyes sincere and fervent, as if the one before him was not a wooden puppet, but his lover in the heat of passion.
Gliding, leaping, spinning.
The distance suddenly closed, then pulled away.
His flexible limbs, full of tension, stretched out. The slightly sweat-dampened shirt clung to his skin, revealing the curve of his muscles and a hint of suggestive flesh.
Wen Jianyan no longer deliberately suppressed his score, but threw himself into it without reservation.
The music continued to build. The love ignited by the waltz burned to the peak of a blazing flame. The steps underfoot became faster and faster, the speed of the spins more and more dazzling—
In the upper right corner, the letter on the mirror began to change again, from B to a terrifying, bright red A.
However, at that moment, Wen Jianyan's eyes sharpened, staring intently in a certain direction.
The passion and focus from just now quickly faded from his eyes, revealing an icy scrutiny beneath. The infatuation from moments ago seemed like an illusion. He easily withdrew from the fervor he had incited, leaving only an unshakable rationality.
He suddenly retreated, breaking free from his "partner's" embrace. His movement was as light as a feather, yet as sharp as a hawk.
As if he had been waiting for this moment all along, Wen Jianyan charged towards a puppet without hesitation, and then—
Grabbed it tightly.
Everything happened in an instant.
Before anyone could react, the music had already come to an abrupt halt.
Under the lights, all the puppets in the classroom maintained their original poses, as if frozen in time.
The hall that had just been filled with music was now excessively quiet, as silent as a tomb.
Wen Jianyan stood where he was, panting slightly.
His body was still trembling from the excessive tension, but his eyes were still fixed on his new "partner."
A smooth, pale wooden face, a cylindrical torso, motionless under the light.
His voice held a smile, unsteady from the intense exercise:
"How was it, teacher? Was my dancing alright?"
"…"
As his voice fell, the face of the puppet in front of him began to change. The wooden texture slowly twisted and faded, eventually taking the shape of facial features.
The next few seconds were exceptionally long.
Soon, a familiar face appeared before Wen Jianyan.
A face as pale as if it had been coated with thick white ash, eerie black eyes, and a mouth pulled high at the corners—it was none other than the dance teacher in charge of this course.
"…Of course."
The dance teacher said slowly.
Behind him, the A on the mirror was glaring and crimson, as if to confirm his words.
"I said from the very beginning, you are a very good seedling."
The smile on the dance teacher's face didn't change, as if wearing a fixed mask. He stared at Wen Jianyan without blinking, his eyes strange.
It seemed like appreciation, yet also like surprise. And beneath these superficial emotions was a deep greed and malice.
He lowered his head, his gaze sweeping over Wen Jianyan's body, and said in an exaggerated, aria-like tone: "Truly very, very suitable for dancing…"
Even though it wasn't the first time, Wen Jianyan still felt a shiver of cold dread.
"How did you find me?"
The dance teacher asked.
Wen Jianyan's answer was surprising: "The dance class has no objective questions."
He looked at the dance teacher and narrowed his eyes: "But strangely, the grading method I've experienced so far is like an objective question… not a subjective one that is linked to both the candidate and the examiner."
The bloody words that appeared under the mirror and changed with his movements, the absent examiner… all seemed to hint at one thing—
The grading standard was set by the system; it was objective.
But that was not the case.
"But these three rounds of assessment are actually all subjective questions, aren't they?"
The film appreciation class was divided into two parts: one objective and one subjective. The substitute teacher couldn't influence the score of the objective part but could arbitrarily grade the subjective part based on personal preference.
[Please select and complete three rounds of assessment, and receive an average grade of B or above to pass.]
In other words, just from the wording of the question, each of these three rounds of assessment was a subjective question, with no objective questions.
And as NPCs of the same level, the power gap between them shouldn't be much different. This meant…
Although the three subjective questions gave the examiner great freedom, they must also have corresponding restrictions.
And the reason Wen Jianyan noticed this was because the duration of the second round of the exam was much longer than he had imagined.
Even though he had consistently taken a more conservative route, his score always remaining neither high nor low, the music showed no sign of stopping. Instead, it got faster and harder.
In other words…
He would either make a complete mistake and end this round with a failing grade, or be completely perfect and face waves of increasingly terrifying death threats. If he only maintained a B grade, he would likely dance to his death in this round.
Thus, upon realizing that this round of assessment might have no end, Wen Jianyan began to recall all the previous rules.
And it was then that he discovered the blind spot of "subjective questions" and "objective questions."
Wen Jianyan: "It's clearly a subjective question, yet it insists on disguising itself as an objective one, deliberately erasing the examiner's presence. Isn't that strange?"
If past experience had taught Wen Jianyan anything, it was "do the opposite."
What the instance didn't want him to pay attention to, he couldn't look away from.
What the instance wanted to hide, he insisted on finding.
And as it turned out, Wen Jianyan's line of thought was correct.
Why deliberately hide the examiner's presence?
—Because finding the examiner could end the exam.
"As for how I found you, the answer is also very simple."
"If I'm not mistaken…" Wen Jianyan stared intently at the other's face and said, "If you want to change my grade, you must confirm it with your own eyes, right?"
Whether it was lowering the grade due to a mistake or raising it due to a good performance, the dance teacher had to witness it personally.
So, whenever he made a mistake or improved, the examiner, disguised as one of the puppets, would make a different move from the other puppets—turning his head to look over.
It was precisely because of this that Wen Jianyan was able to locate the teacher's position among the countless puppets and finally, when his score reached its highest point, strike decisively—grabbing the examiner to end the assessment.
And that was how his score for this round could be fixed at A.
In the "Integrity First" live room:
[Holy shit, so that's how it was!]
[…Damn, the anchor's logical thinking ability is really fucking insane. With just that little bit of clues! He could actually summarize a theory and even guess it mostly right in the end… strong.]
[I originally thought that since he had never taken the dance class, he definitely wouldn't know how to break the game this round. I didn't expect him to actually guess it right.]
[Impressive, truly too impressive. Is this the strength of a Nightmare top ten?]
Wen Jianyan raised his eyes and glanced at the bloody letters on the mirror behind him.
"So my grade for this round is A, no problem, right?"
"…"
The dance teacher stared at Wen Jianyan without blinking, his strange gaze making one's back creep.
After a few seconds, he nodded: "No problem."
Wen Jianyan asked with a grin, "So if I get another A in the next round, I should be able to pass smoothly, right?"
The dance teacher was silent for even longer this time.
A long time later, he finally slowly revealed that same creepy smile and said, word by word:
"Yes."
Wen Jianyan slowly took two steps back, putting some distance between himself and the examiner, and said with a smile, "In that case, we'd better not waste too much time."
He blinked:
"Don't you agree?"
In the "Integrity First" live room:
[…]
[I'm a little panicked.]
[Don't say you, I'm a little panicked too.]
The smile on the dance teacher's face grew wider, but it looked even more terrifying. His figure gradually faded, becoming lighter and lighter, and finally disappeared completely from before Wen Jianyan.
Under the light, all that was left was a huge mirror and countless motionless puppets frozen in place.
From the speaker above, the distorted voice sounded again:
[The first round of ballroom dance assessment is over, the rating is A.]
When the assessment score was below B, the candidate was not allowed to leave the examination room and could only be forced to start the next round of assessment. However, when the candidate's score was excellent, they could get enough breathing time, and even leave the examination room.
Sure enough, the voice from the speaker continued:
[Excellent score, the candidate is permitted to leave—]
But, before the sentence was finished, the voice suddenly got stuck.
"?"
Wen Jianyan paused and looked up towards the speaker.
After a few brief but long seconds of silence, a few crackles of static came from the speaker. The voice, which was interfered with even more and whose original tone was even less recognizable, sounded again:
"Zzz… examination time… temporarily changed…"
"The next assessment… zzz… will begin in ten seconds…"
Wen Jianyan: "???"
Wait? A few seconds??
Before he could even recover, the countdown had already begun.
"Ten."
"Nine."
"Eight."
In the "Integrity First" live room:
[…]
[I think Chen Cheng warned the anchor before. As the second chosen elective, the exam difficulty would increase, right…]
[Yeah, it seems now that the specific method and time of this increase are in the hands of the examiner.]
[…]
[Ahhhhhhh! You punk!! Learn your lesson!!]
[Don't! Offend! The NPCs! Anymore!!!]
On the other side.
In the pitch-black office, the group looked at each other.
"Um," one of the anchors hesitated for a moment, but finally couldn't help but speak, "That… big shot went to—"
"I've already answered you."
Chen Cheng leaned against the wall with his arms crossed, not even looking up, and said lazily:
"What, are you deaf?"
This sentence choked the person speechless. The anchor who had spoken had a gloomy face, staring deadly at Chen Cheng not far away, his eyes filled with suppressed anger.
"Uh," Suo Suo quickly came out to smooth things over, "I think, this—Sun Qi—it's Sun Qi, right?"
He looked at the speaker.
Sun Qi was clutching his left arm, his expression gloomy, and he nodded.
"What I mean is," Suo Suo turned back to Chen Cheng, choosing his words smoothly and cautiously, "Sun Qi just wanted to ask when that big shot would be out. After all, our current position is indeed a bit… awkward. We can't just wait here aimlessly, right?"
The other anchors nodded one after another, clearly agreeing with Suo Suo's words from the bottom of their hearts.
This time, Chen Cheng finally lifted his eyelids:
"How would I know when he's coming out? He didn't report to me."
Suo Suo: "…"
Although he knew that this young man in front of him had thunderous methods that didn't match his appearance and shouldn't be offended, this guy… was really infuriating when he spoke, and he angered everyone indiscriminately.
Even Suo Suo, an old hand, felt his teeth itching.
"If you want to leave, then leave," Chen Cheng glanced at the anchors who were having trouble suppressing their anger and sneered in a mocking tone, "As long as you think you can push open the main door on the first floor by yourselves, feel free."
"…"
The vast office was dead silent. Everyone looked displeased but said nothing with gloomy faces.
No matter how unpleasant Chen Cheng's words were, they couldn't refute them.
Because he was telling the truth.
As far as they knew, the only person who could open the main door of the first-floor lobby and let them out of the administration building was Wen Jianyan.
Even if they left this place now, they couldn't leave the first floor and could only be trapped in the administration building.
Rather than facing the club members and the Student Union who could appear at any time, it was better to temporarily stay in this safe area and wait for someone to come out.
Just as the group was frozen in place, not knowing what to do next, suddenly, hurried footsteps came from outside the door.
At once, Chen Cheng's previously nonchalant eyes immediately became serious. He stood up, gestured for the others not to be impulsive, and then silently came to the door.
He carefully pushed the door open a crack and looked outside.
The corridor was crimson, reflecting two figures.
NPCs?
Or anchors?
They were too far away to see clearly, but even so, Chen Cheng could still feel the unusual aura on them.
After all, to be able to enter the administration building under these circumstances, and even walk brazenly in the second-floor corridor, they couldn't be simple characters.
However, Chen Cheng was also curious.
As far as he knew, he was the only one in the entire instance who had obtained the location of the graduation thesis completion and the specific method.
In that case, how did these people find their way here?
Soon, Chen Cheng saw the two people's faces clearly, and his eyes instantly became sharp.
Walking in front was a little girl with orange hair. She was smiling and skipping forward. Although she looked harmless, she gave off an invisible sense of pressure.
Even without making direct eye contact, Chen Cheng immediately recognized the other's identity.
It was Orange Candy.
A ruthless character from the Nightmare top ten.
She was actually in this instance too?
Chen Cheng's eyes darkened slightly.
Strictly speaking, Chen Cheng did not know the other party and had never met her before. But Orange Candy's features were too conspicuous. As a core member cultivated by Evernight with all their might, it was impossible for Chen Cheng not to recognize her.
As Chen Cheng was deep in thought, the tall and short pair had already walked over. Behind him, came a low, sharp intake of breath.
Chen Cheng was startled and turned to look.
It was Sun Qi.
He had somehow crept up behind him and was looking out the door over his shoulder.
Sun Qi didn't know what he saw, but his expression became very shaken:
"That's…"
Chen Cheng cursed inwardly and almost immediately turned to look out the door.
Behind the orange-haired little girl, the other person had gradually walked into view.
A tall figure, a handsome face, gentle light brown pupils, a nonchalant expression—apart from the different hair color, it was none other than the anchor who had just been with them!
And it was because he saw this familiar face that Sun Qi was so shocked that he couldn't help but make a sound.
Perhaps hearing the sound, the next second, the young man, with a smile on his lips, looked over in this direction.
Through the crack in the door, he met Chen Cheng's gaze.
Fuck!!
Chen Cheng's pupils constricted, and a premonition of danger roared in his mind.
However, the young man's gaze only lingered here for a moment before quickly moving away. He leisurely walked forward two steps, bent his fingers, and knocked lightly on a door.
"Knock, knock, knock."
The sound of knocking echoed.
"Creak."
The door opened.
With a smile, the young man said a few words to the Student Union member in front of him. The next second, the other's cold, dark eyes suddenly shot in this direction, firmly locking onto the door where they were.
"Fall back."
Chen Cheng gritted his teeth, his expression gloomy as he gave the order, his face so dark it looked like water could be wrung from it.
"Prepare to engage."
He glared fiercely at the few people behind him, his gaze lingering on Sun Qi for a few extra seconds—the other shivered under his gaze, clearly knowing he was in the wrong, and averted his eyes uneasily.
Chen Cheng's expression was cold as he withdrew his gaze.
More of a hindrance than a help.
I should have dealt with these stupid hindrances behind me first!
Watching the Student Union members pour out, the expressions of "Wen Jianyan" and "Orange Candy" did not change. They turned around, a hidden smile on their faces. Without talking, they continued to walk forward.
And in front of them was the stairwell leading up to the third floor.
Almost in the blink of an eye, the two figures disappeared into the red-lit corridor.
All that was left was the aura of terror and death.
In the dance studio enveloped by cold light, the countdown continued.
[Three]
The young man stood where he was, his wet hair sticking to his cheeks.
He seemed a little nervous, subconsciously reaching for his right wrist, but found nothing.
"?"
Wen Jianyan was startled.
The tentacle that should have been coiled there was gone at some point, leaving only an empty wrist.
[Two]
Wen Jianyan lowered his hand, looked up, and stared fixedly at the speaker not far away. His breathing seemed to become slightly rapid because of this.
[One]
The countdown ended.
From the old speaker, came a distorted voice:
[Your second dance assessment is about to begin, please prepare]
[Assessment content—zzz—]
Static came from the speaker again. About two seconds later, the voice sounded again.
[Free Choice]
Free choice?
Wen Jianyan was startled.
Before he could react, with a "bang," all the lights were instantly extinguished. The brightly lit dance studio was once again plunged into a pitch-black world where he couldn't see his hand in front of his face.
Wen Jianyan stood where he was, his breath short.
In the dead silence, he could only hear his own irregular heartbeat.
"In this round of assessment, the candidate can freely choose the dance they wish to perform next."
The voice that came next was not from the speaker, and it was a cold voice that Wen Jianyan was exceptionally familiar with—it came from the dance teacher.
He seemed to be speaking from very close, yet also not.
"After choosing, you can report the topic to the examiner, and the assessment will officially begin."
"You have three minutes to consider."
Wen Jianyan collected himself: "…The grading rules are the same as before, right?"
"No, no, no."
The dance teacher's voice held a grotesque smile.
"The difficulty has increased, remember?"
"Ah… such a good seedling…" The voice was sometimes far, sometimes near, sometimes high, sometimes low. It was filled with extreme obsession and greed, as if it were sizing him up from top to bottom, causing goosebumps to rise on Wen Jianyan's back:
"Perfect… truly too perfect…"
"Yes, your performance exceeded my expectations, but, I can't risk letting you pass… yes… yes, I can't—"
The dance teacher's voice gradually climbed, eventually evolving into a terrifying fanaticism.
"Can't risk it."
"Can't risk it."
"Can't risk it."
Wen Jianyan felt a chill run up his spine, goosebumps crawling up his arms.
Suddenly, the voice that had been crazed and high-pitched became calm.
"—So, I had no choice but to send you directly in."
Send him in?
Send him where?
Wen Jianyan was a little confused.
"Farewell forever."
The other party quickly corrected.
"No."
That voice became fanatical again:
"It's eternal life."
The next second, the familiar, long-absent burning pain rose from his hip bone. Wen Jianyan took a sharp breath, his body bending like a shrimp, his palm pressed against his side hip.
"Ugh!"
Under his palm, his lower abdomen rose and fell rapidly.
That patch of skin seemed to be heating up from below, as if using his flesh and blood as fuel. A raging fire spread, seemingly trying to erode and burn everything.
Could it be————
Wen Jianyan was bent over, his slightly trembling pupils constricting in the darkness.
At this moment, the last missing piece of the puzzle was filled in.
Why the dance teacher showed such unusual enthusiasm for him at their first meeting, even to the point of antagonizing other teachers to get him into this assessment?
Why the tentacle on his wrist disappeared?
Why there was an unusual puppet, not made from a corpse, that even actively led him to the mirror and gave him hints?
Why, in that moment of spinning, he had vaguely glimpsed a pair of golden eyes?
"Haha…"
The young man's body curled up in the darkness, his back trembling, but he let out a low laugh.
The laughter grew louder, gradually becoming unrestrained.
"Hahahaha!!"
In the "Integrity First" live room:
[?]
[What is the anchor laughing about?]
[Has he gone crazy?]
[Wait a minute, is it my imagination? Why does the live stream picture seem to have become strange… Did I just see static?]
[No way, no way, why is the signal being interfered with again?]
[Ahhhhhh, someone contact Nightmare quickly, get the signal repaired. The crucial part is about to start, you better not cut out on me at this critical moment—and it's not the first time!!]
Finally, Wen Jianyan had laughed enough. He rolled over on the floor, lay flat on his back, his chest heaving up and down, his eyes wide open, staring at the darkness before him.
If he wasn't mistaken, there should be a fragment of Wu Zhu in this instance.
That fragment, although still dormant, was still dangerous.
And it was clearly closely related to the dance studio and had followers.
The dance teacher, as a believer of the Father God, had detected the familiar scent on Wen Jianyan and thus tried to offer him—or rather, offer him once again—to the fragment of the evil god forced into slumber.
Hoping that Wu Zhu would devour him and awaken from his deep sleep.
This time, although Wen Jianyan did not have Wu Zhu following him, he had a "part" of Wu Zhu.
That small tentacle condensed from darkness.
And the real reason Wu Zhu had left a note in the Ouroboros, insisting that Wen Jianyan bring the tentacle, was perhaps because he had long known that he had a fragment left in this instance.
He had long anticipated that this situation might occur, and so had fulfilled his promise in advance:
Before the bet was over, he would absolutely not let himself, or his fragments, interfere with Wen Jianyan's plans.
So, the puppet that couldn't be reflected in the mirror just now, and the hints from an unknown source, were probably inextricably linked to the disappeared tentacle.
From his ear, came the dance teacher's voice:
[Twenty seconds remaining.]
His voice was even more terrifying than before, as if angered by Wen Jianyan's sudden burst of laughter. It became colder, carrying an unrestrained malice.
[Candidate, please choose your examination topic in a timely manner.]
"…"
Wen Jianyan wiped away the tears that had seeped from the corners of his eyes from laughing too hard and slowly climbed up from the ground.
—This was truly a case of the Dragon King's temple being flooded by his own people.
In the darkness, the young man tilted his head in thought and said lazily:
"In short, any dance is okay, right?"
"Yes."
Because of Wen Jianyan's one question after another, the voice in the darkness seemed to be getting impatient.
"You have ten seconds."
"Then…"
Wen Jianyan looked up with a grin and asked in a nonchalant tone, "Is a striptease okay?"