Chapter 84: Weekly Test

Before evening study began, the classroom was bustling with noise. After a day’s rest, the students were especially energetic; many of the boys gathered, still immersed in conversation about the lingering thrill of their game.

“Zihan’s pure excitement! If he’d come sooner, wouldn’t we have turned the tide already? I leveled up five times! Five times!”

“I told you to wait for me, but no one did—how could I fly in and take the ultimate?”

“Watch the replay! Both my eyes were glued to you greedily chasing that wave of minions!”

Although the heart’s position is to the left, the gaping wound on the right side caused Hu Jianming to lose a massive amount of blood. Coupled with countless injuries all over his body, he was now breathing more out than in, his face pale as gold leaf, clearly at death’s door.

Clots of blood struck the ground, raising a cloud of dust. Lin De coughed twice, neither dodging nor flinching, his eyes fixed unwaveringly on the cracked cocoon of blood.

“Father, don’t be nervous. We’re all friends here, aren’t we? Just tell me—did you or did you not shelter a vampire?” Yun Mo said, and the priest replied with absolute certainty.

Liang Xin’s expertise in psychology was beyond question, yet limited by his knowledge, he could hardly have imagined that in the interstellar society, even “consciousness” had developed into an advanced and powerful discipline—willpower itself could be supercharged.

Not only the viewers watching the live broadcast, but even the trained engineers stationed on the island widened their eyes at this moment, uttering several astonished cries.

Warnings popped up to remind players, and the game itself cautioned against addiction, preventing mishaps. Though people in reality suffered no harm, the holographic simulation relied heavily on nerve endings for synchronization, so no one ever maxed out the experience parameters.

Inside the spacious bedroom, the wooden bed that had accompanied Lin De for dozens of days still stood firm, unchanged. Staring at the battered bed, Lin De felt himself pulled abruptly back to reality.

He tore open the plastic packaging from both sides of his clothes, obtaining a thin plastic film about seventy or eighty centimeters wide. Picking up a large seashell from beside the boulder, he clamped the film with it and, carrying a burning stick, walked to the edge of the forest.

But before he could finish speaking, a terrifying aura erupted from Jiang Yuan’s body, instantly exerting pressure on Silco.

As the shockwave swept through, Ajiang took a deep breath, and his motionless left fist lifted gently.

After a moment of sucking, Yao Rao took Lei Yu’s hand and placed it atop her almost bursting chest, that patch of white skin dazzling to the eye.

The “Polar Hotel” project was naturally a long and arduous task. Wei Xian never expected to complete it in a short time; he simply set himself a goal, then strove to achieve it. As for the method of creating an artificial polar landscape, Wei Xian had mastered it. Thus, the first step of the Polar Hotel plan—establishing connections.

The skinny monkey panted lightly, sweat beads already forming on his face. Zhou Qianying was even worse off; halfway through the journey, her high-heeled feet were trembling, and now she lay sprawled across Zhang Yue’s back, her cheeks flushed.

“You ought to be happy, for today I’ve come to grant you release. To turn your celebration into a funeral!” Lei Yu’s lashes lowered, his tone chilling.

Blood Condensation cast him a cold glance, her gaze sharp as a blade, brimming with personality. Of course, Lei Yu returned her stare without hesitation, his aura surging until he overwhelmed her.

To prove he hadn’t made a mistake, Ao Xingchu kept watching the patch of shrubbery for a long time. As the sun gradually rose, the angle of the light changed, and so did the shadows. Yet, in Ao Xingchu’s eyes, only the shadow of that short tree shifted slower than the surrounding brush.

It seemed leisurely, but Zhang Yue’s mind was troubled. It had been a month now; the dog demon’s injuries had mostly healed, and even if his strength hadn’t returned to its peak, he was still capable of a fight. At this point, the situation had slowly slipped from Zhang Yue’s control, and he no longer knew how much longer he could stall.