Chapter 58: Deathmatch

Was that a Shadow Ghost?

Some Shadow Ghosts took humanoid forms, but how could one wear a tattered gray cloak and wield a blade?

And that strange mask—Shadow Ghosts didn’t wear masks.

What kind of mask was it?

White, with identical “X”s for eyes and a sneering mouth, as if smeared with a black marker, eerie and unsettling.

Xueqiu could never forget that mask.

It was the one from the Contract exam and the Investigation Team’s surveillance.

Its owner now stood on the edge of the fourth floor of Teaching Building 9, staring at Xia Yin.

It hadn’t stayed at the Investigation Team.

It had come to the Academy for them.

Oddly, Xia Yin, usually a chatterbox, would’ve bantered even with an enemy, like when they first encountered a Shadow Ghost—talking nonsense while striking.

But now, five meters from Xueqiu, he was silent.

His focus was locked on the masked figure.

Xueqiu recalled yesterday at the Investigation Team—Xia Yin had been the same, on high alert, as if ready to charge up the building.

“Are you that bastard ‘King’? Standing up there, watching us like some big shot?” Xia Yin finally spoke, his usual ease replaced by wariness.

The one he called ‘King’ just stood on the stainless-steel railing.

Xueqiu knew those smooth railings weren’t easy to balance on, let alone stand still.

Yet this figure had just thrown a blade at Chang Mu from there.

Xueqiu scanned the area, spotting the weapon near the bushes.

Not a throwing blade, but a dagger.

“Why no sword today? Brought my father’s instead? If you love blades over guns, you should’ve kept it on you—it’s sharper than mine,” Xia Yin shouted, ensuring he was heard.

The masked figure didn’t move, neither confirming nor denying being ‘King,’ nor responding to Xia Yin’s taunt.

It just watched, silent as a statue.

Xueqiu wondered how long this standoff would last.

Would they stay here until Academy reinforcements arrived?

She recalled Xia Yin’s earlier gesture.

It wasn’t just for cover—it meant finding a chance or position to counterattack.

“What, playing cool with silence? When did our ‘King’ start valuing silence as gold? Not preaching your ‘profit-first’ nonsense anymore?” Xia Yin sneered.

“Or are you just a fake?”

He didn’t finish the word “fake.”

As he said it, his hand reached for his waist.

In an instant, a black pistol appeared.

Aiming and firing were as natural as breathing for Xia Yin. Three bullets shot out, targeting the figure’s chest, lung, and head.

His chatter wasn’t just to buy Xueqiu time—it was to create his own opening.

To Xueqiu, the motionless masked figure seemed drained, swaying before pitching forward, plummeting like a dead crow.

Was it… over?

The enemy Xia Yin feared, taken out by three precise shots?

No.

A strange unease exploded in Xueqiu’s mind.

Crouched behind the bushes, she stared at the falling figure, sensing something wrong.

Time seemed to stretch. The plummeting body wasn’t falling—it was diving toward Xia Yin.

“Xia Yin!”

Forgetting stealth or whether to call him “Senior” or “Brother,” Xueqiu shouted instinctively.

But she was too far.

Five meters felt like a century.

She couldn’t reach him. The shadow’s descent was too fast.

She saw the dagger gleam from the tattered cloak, blinding in the sunlight.

If Xia Yin died here, how would she feel?

Grief?

What kind of grief?

She didn’t dare think.

Everything blurred yet sharpened.

But Xia Yin was Xia Yin.

If he let his guard down after three hits, he wouldn’t be himself.

He grabbed the dagger’s blade with his left hand.

The masked figure pressed forward; Xia Yin’s right hand hammered its abdomen with crisp jabs.

He even glanced at Xueqiu, lips moving silently, urging her to act.

Bullets for Shadow Ghosts were already loaded. Still dazed, her body moved into a perfect shooting stance.

With a puff of smoke, her bullet pierced the figure’s head, shredding its brain. Its relentless attack froze, then stopped.

And her?

Ignoring the red and white splatter, she ran to Xia Yin, kneeling instinctively to check his wounds with her ‘Mirror Demon’—now only mimicking ‘Hakutaku’s’ healing.

“Boss… so cool! Way better than a pentakill, though my phone’s dead, so no video…” Chang Mu, who’d watched from the bushes, finally spoke.

He’d been silent, like a corpse.

Normally, Xia Yin would’ve teased him for just watching or told him to hide in the dorm.

But now, he leaned on his sword, stabbed into the body, like a crutch.

It wasn’t for show.

His knee had been shattered in those seconds.

Without Shadow Ghost genes’ healing and Xueqiu’s desperate ‘Hakutaku’ treatment, he’d have passed out from pain.

“Boss… you okay? Xueqiu, she…” Chang Mu stammered, unsure how to describe the scene.

The white-haired girl, who’d fired moments ago, seemed possessed. She tossed the gun, rushed to Xia Yin, knelt, and stopped his bleeding.

Her body trembled, eyes locked on him, as if the world held only them, her sole purpose to keep him alive.

Xia Yin didn’t respond.

He’d noticed something wrong—not with Xueqiu.

A horrifying truth unfolded.

The masked figure, killed by their hands, was dissolving.

Seconds later, only a tattered cloak and the white mask remained.