Start with the hidden role of the Great Emperor of Fengdu, and immediately unleash 100,000 Yin Soldi

The dark red light swallowed half the sky.

Chu Jiang stood by the window, the red announcement on his phone screen still refreshing.

The second, third, and fourth pop-ups kept appearing one after another, with the frequency increasing rapidly.

"The energy index of the C-level abyss rift has exceeded the threshold, and the emergency response level has been raised to Level 1."

"The eastern defense line is fully activated. All awakened individuals of rank C and above are to report for duty immediately."

"All awakened students on campus, immediately return to the underground playground of Jiangcheng No.1 Middle School and assemble—"

Outside the window, the sound of military vehicle engines shattered the silence of the entire street.

The white light of the searchlight swept across the building below, blinding Chu Jiang.

In the distance to the east of the city, the dark red turmoil grew increasingly violent, and the roars of demons swept in on the night wind, muffled and dense, one after another.

Chu Jiang stared at the dark red area for three seconds.

The color is wrong.

The energy overflow from a normal abyssal rift is a deep purple, with a cool and dark hue.

The dark red, surging motion before my eyes was viscous and heavy, exactly like the deathly aura emanating from the altar beneath the Bone Wasteland.

He put away his phone, turned around, and went into the inner room.

Jiang Yingxue was sleeping soundly, breathing evenly, the moisture on her mask rising and falling with a steady rhythm.

The color in her face was much better than it had been two hours ago, and the medicinal power of the Blood Jade Lingzhi was still slowly circulating in her body.

Chu Jiang closed the windows tightly, checked the door locks, and moved the spare medicine bottle to a spot within easy reach of the bedside.

The note was pressed under the medicine bottle.

"Meet at school, we'll be back soon."

He pulled up the hood of his ghostly cloak, went out, and went downstairs.

The streets were full of military vehicles, and searchlights illuminated the old residential area in a stark white light.

Several workers in protective suits are knocking on doors to notify residents to enter the underground shelter.

Chu Jiang walked close to the wall and was not stopped.

Twenty minutes later, at Jiangcheng No.1 Middle School.

A long queue formed at the entrance to the underground playground. The senior high school students were allowed to enter by swiping their cards one by one, their faces filled with unease.

Some people were whispering about the scale of the outbreak in the east of the city, some were scrolling through snippets of news from the front lines on their phones, and most people said nothing, just gripping their weapons, their fingers turning white.

Chu Jiang did not enter through the main gate.

He went around to the side of the faculty and staff entrance, swiped his card, and entered.

The underground playground was smaller than the job-change plaza on the ground, but it had a higher ceiling. The lights were cold white emergency lights, which made everyone's faces look unhealthy and bluish.

More than half of the more than two thousand people have arrived.

As soon as Chu Jiang stepped onto the edge of the playground, he noticed that something was wrong.

It's not panic.

It's excitement.

In the center of the playground, on the judges' panel, sat a person he had never seen before.

He was in his early twenties, wearing a silver swordsman's robe, with three blue spirit stones inlaid on the scabbard of the sword at his waist. The style was uniform and the workmanship was excellent.

Embroidered on the chest is a school badge—a soaring eagle—with four characters below: Qingzhou College.

The top three academies for awakened individuals in East China.

The man leaned back in his chair, his right leg crossed over his left, a stack of files in his hand, flipping through them in such a relaxed manner that it was almost like he was fanning himself.

His name is Fang Chengyue, a fourth-tier A-rank swordsman. He came to support Qingzhou Academy and also to select new students for the academy.

A crowd of people surrounded them.

Ye Lingshan stood at the front row, her white robes neat and tidy, her staff of light standing beside her, her posture upright.

Zhou Zihao stood a little further back, wearing a new suit of armor, his face still somewhat pale.

The aftereffects of being so scared that he wet himself on the day of the assessment had clearly not completely subsided, but he forced himself to stand up straight with his chin held high.

"Senior Fang, what are the selection criteria for freshmen at Qingzhou Academy this year? I'm an A-rank Fire Dragon Knight, can I be directly recommended?" Zhou Zihao deliberately lowered his voice by half an octave, carrying a self-perceived sense of humility.

Fang Chengyue, dressed in a silver swordsman's robe, didn't even lift his eyelids.

"Rank A? Barely meets the minimum requirement."

Zhou Zihao's smile froze for a moment, but he quickly recovered, smiling apologetically as he took half a step back.

Fang Chengyue turned a page of the file, his gaze sweeping over Ye Lingshan's name, and finally gave a response.

"An S-rank Light Mage." He nodded. "That's right, Qingzhou Academy will send you a formal invitation."

Ye Lingshan nodded slightly, her expression unchanged, but the fingers gripping the staff loosened a little.

Fang Chengyue continued scrolling down.

When he turned to a certain page, he paused.

His brows furrowed slightly at first, then relaxed, and the corners of his mouth turned up in a smile.

He pulled out the page of the file, held it up in front of him, and read its contents aloud.

The sound wasn't loud, but the amplification array on the judges' panel ensured that every word reached every corner of the playground.

"Chu Jiang, F-rank Soul Guide."

The entire room fell silent for a moment.

"Solo clear of the Abyss difficulty beginner dungeon in 32 minutes and 17 seconds, breaking the Jiangcheng historical record."

He paused, then read on, "742 points in practical assessment, first in the whole school, 100% cleanup rate."

He threw the file on the table.

The paper slid half a foot across the table.

Fang Chengyue let out a sneer, clear and piercing, which was particularly loud in the quiet underground playground.

"An F-rank Soul Guide?"

He shook his head, his tone as if commenting on a clumsy joke, "What's the point of fake battle records created by using consumable items from the black market? This kind of useless profession with no growth potential doesn't even qualify to sweep the floor at Qingzhou Academy."

These words, once spoken, were like a pebble dropped into a calm pond.

Ripples exploded.

Zhou Zihao's eyes lit up, with a light like that of a drowning person finally touching a rock on the shore.

"Senior Fang is absolutely right!"

His voice suddenly rose, "I told you long ago, that Chu Jiang is just a clown who cheats! During the assessment, he hid in the thick fog and pulled some kind of trick, his points were all faked!"

Several lackeys immediately chimed in, "That's right! F-rank is F-rank!"

"Even people from Qingzhou Academy say so, how could it be false?"

Ye Lingshan stood still, her gaze fixed on the file that had been tossed aside on the table.

Fang Chengyue's words were like a ruler, precisely measuring the crack in her heart and then welding it back shut.

F-rank Soul Guide.

There is no upper limit to growth.

Pointless.

She lowered her eyes, her fingers tightening and loosening on the staff.

There was nothing wrong with announcing the engagement.

She needs a partner who is at least on the same starting line as her.

Fang Chengyue basked in the flattery around him, the corners of his mouth curving into a perfectly measured smile. He glanced around the playground but couldn't find the face from the file.

Where are they?

"We're not there yet," Principal Fang Chongde said, his tone subtle.

The voice just fell.

The heavy iron gate on the side of the underground playground was pushed open.

bang.

The iron gate slammed against the door frame and bounced back.

Chu Jiang, carrying a schoolbag, walked in from behind the door.

His pace was steady, his gaze was straight ahead, and his face was expressionless.

It's no different from walking into a classroom.

More than two thousand pairs of eyes turned to look at it.

The air in the playground seemed to be wound up tightly; all sounds stopped at the same second, even Zhou Zihao's mouth, which had been opening and closing, froze.

Everyone is waiting.

When Chu Jiang saw Fang Chengyue.

When he heard the words "Qingzhou Academy".

Wait until you see even the slightest hint of panic, embarrassment, or resentment on his expression.

Fang Chengyue stood up from his chair.

He was half a head taller than Chu Jiang, and his silver swordsman's robe gleamed with a metallic sheen under the cold white light.

He crossed his arms and stood in the middle of the aisle, blocking Chu Jiang's path three meters away.

"You are Chu Jiang?"

Chu Jiang's steps did not stop.

Fang Chengyue tilted his head, a condescending smile on his lips.

"Let me give you a piece of advice: don't think that cheating and getting some points will attract the attention of Qingzhou Academy. An F-rank is an F-rank. Knowing your place is more important than anything else. This is for your sake—"

Chu Jiang turned to the side.

He passed Fang Chengyue cleanly and swiftly on the right.

The two words he uttered were neither too loud nor too soft, just enough for anyone within a ten-meter radius to hear clearly.

"Get out of the way."

Fang Chengyue's second half of his sentence got stuck in his throat.

His mouth remained open, his arms were crossed over his chest, and he looked as if someone had pressed the pause button on his entire body.

Chu Jiang did not turn back.

His gaze never fell on Fang Chengyue for even a second, his eyes fixed on the other end of the playground—the logistics exit leading to the east of the city.

Footsteps echoed across the deathly silent playground, each one tapping against the floor.

Every step was steady.

The spacing between each step is the same.

Zhou Zihao opened his mouth, but couldn't make a sound.

Ye Lingshan's knuckles turned white as she gripped the staff.

Fang Chengyue's face went from astonishment to ashen, and his temples throbbed twice.

He gripped the scabbard of the sword at his waist with his five fingers, his knuckles cracking.

But he didn't draw his sword.

It's not that I don't want to, it's that I'm still rational.

During the wartime period, when he drew his sword against an F-rank student in the underground playground of No. 1 Middle School, and the news was relayed back to Qingzhou Academy, he lost even more face than he has now.

"He's gone mad." Fang Chengyue squeezed out the two words through gritted teeth, his voice icy cold. "He left the assembly area without permission during wartime. There are monsters everywhere outside. He's rushing to his death."

No one responded.

More than two thousand people watched that figure walk to the logistics exit, push open the door, and disappear into the darkness of the passageway.

The door closed.

It was as if someone had finally released an invisible hand from the playground, and the noise returned, but it was several notes lower than before.

In the passageway, cold white emergency lights were placed every ten meters, casting a long shadow of Chu Jiang.

The corners of his mouth turned up slightly.

From the deep rift in the east of the city, a large number of abyssal monsters surged out like a tide.

What others see is a disaster.

What he saw were five thousand white soul points from the third-tier Ghost Gate, lined up and walking towards him.

Chu Jiang pulled his cloak hood tighter and disappeared into the night.

He couldn't wait to advance to the Gates of Hell.