Chapter 66: Why did you abanoen me?

‘Yinglong’s’ cuts sliced through the gaps between words.

Its target: the persistent masked figure ahead.

With his Contract now active, Xia Yin didn’t kill the figure immediately.

“Pity I couldn’t finish you that day. Maybe dying on the highway would’ve been better than here,” the masked figure said.

Unlike last time, it spoke, each syllable laced with static, masking its true voice.

“Just an ambush—what’s to gloat about? I don’t know how you use a Contract under the principal’s suppression, but I’ve guessed yours. Space-related, right? Lure us here, kill us with decoys,” Xia Yin spat.

“You’re right, but…”

The masked figure’s voice cut off—not for suspense, but because ‘Yinglong’ cleaved it in two.

Xueqiu watched cautiously, fearing the body would vanish like before.

“Don’t come out,” Xia Yin whispered, his eyes flickering red, like roses blooming in his pupils.

Within two seconds of his warning, applause echoed from afar.

Beside the corpse, another identical masked figure appeared.

“Not bad. Preemptive strike to avoid your senior’s fate. But I’m not ‘King’—just his loyal servant,” it said, voice buzzing with static.

Xueqiu gripped the gun Xia Yin gave her, ready to shoot its head.

But he’d told her to stay put.

Another cut—this time vertical—split the figure, yet no blood spilled.

Xueqiu noticed the earlier corpse was the same: like broken puppets, silent on the ground.

As expected, a third identical masked figure appeared.

“My great ‘King’ doesn’t want you dead here. Return to Qingtan—he might take you in, like Javier,” it said slowly.

“Done talking? Ready to get sliced? Why not summon more next time? I know someone a hundred times stronger who can make seven or eight clones at once. You’ve got one—pathetic,” Xia Yin taunted, mimicking a finger-gun as invisible blades followed.

With his Contract free, he didn’t need to shoot—just focus to cut.

Where was his sword?

Xueqiu recalled Xia Yin had his black sword coming up from the archive, but his hands were empty now.

Fourth, fifth, sixth—Xia Yin kept cutting, yet the masked figure persisted.

At this rate, corpses would pile up across the campus.

“Stop, stop, stop…” the masked figure pleaded.

Xueqiu didn’t expect it to break first.

“‘King’ doesn’t want you dead, but he wants his knife back. The one you call ‘Mist Cutter.’”

“Oh? Since when is that knife your damn King’s?” Xia Yin nearly laughed, holding off another cut.

“It belonged to Wuyue Liuli, but our great ‘King’ drained her worth. The knife’s his now,” the figure said patiently, as if persuading.

“Done?”

“If you hand over the knife, I—”

“Sorry, left it somewhere else. Come back later.”

Instantly, the masked figure exploded into a red mist.

But Xia Yin didn’t wait for another. He fired his gun wildly into the woods.

Who was he shooting?

Xueqiu peeked out. Seconds later, the endless campus path cleared.

“Knew it! You vermin love hiding in corners. Watch me end you!” Xia Yin shouted, ignoring her gaze, charging like an arrow toward the path’s other side, as if chasing the figure.

Xueqiu froze, hesitating to follow.

—

Academy, North Gate

A girl with long black hair leaned against a tree, holding an I[REDACTED]15 phone, talking.

Nearby, two bear-like Shadow Ghosts wandered aimlessly.

“Got the data. Meet at the usual spot, ‘King’?” she asked.

“Back to Qingtan,” the voice replied sharply.

“Got it.”

The girl eyed the Shadow Ghosts. Three years ago, she’d seen these brute-force, brainless monsters.

Yes, even Shadow Ghosts were monsters to her.

Her phone rang—a trendy pop song, rumored to plagiarize a 2016 track.

“Hello, who’s this?” she said.

“Your Majesty, save me! I’ll be there in ten seconds,” the frantic voice replied.

She knew who it was.

From a different direction than the Shadow Ghosts, a masked young man ran, laughing with mockery and madness.

“Hahaha! Can’t catch me!”

The girl stepped forward. The masked man stopped two meters away, panting.

“Stop mimicking Javier. He’s crazy—you’re not,” she said.

“That kid would freak if he knew who I was, right, Your Majesty?” he said, hopping as his pursuer appeared a hundred meters off.

“Where’s the goods?” she asked coldly.

“The knife’s not on him. Let’s go meet our great King.”

Ignoring his dramatic tone, she waved, tearing space open. A black door appeared where the North Gate stood.

Xia Yin saw the darkness.

He’d seen that black door long ago.

Memories flooded back—anger, sorrow, defiance…

Despite his carefree facade.

They were here again.

“Don’t follow, Xueqiu. Please, don’t. I’ve got this. Trust me, okay? Stay. I’ll be back,” Xia Yin said, his voice taut, like ropes twisted or a string about to snap.

“But… Xia Yin, you’re…” Xueqiu forgot titles. If she had rope, she’d tie him to her side.

“You know why I like ensemble dramas?” he said, switching topics. “I used to avoid them. But in novels, authors kill off characters like it’s the only way to elevate a theme.”

“Then I realized ensembles are safe. If your favorite team A dies, there’s still team B.”

Xueqiu didn’t speak. She wanted to stop him, but he’d already plunged into the darkness.

She was left behind, for the first time.

His final words echoed in the wind.

“This time, I’ll tear off your mask and your face.”