Chapter 331 – Beware of Rabbits (5): The Dead Still Linger

Lu Ming doesn’t have an older brother? Then… who exactly is Lu Ming?

Qi Si recalled the terror in Li Fang’s eyes when he mentioned ‘Lu Ming,’ and that person who claimed to have designed the game Escape from Rabbit God Town—someone with a face identical to his own.

He lifted his gaze to meet Reiko’s eyes and asked, word by word, ‘So those words—did I say them to you?’

A bewildered shadow clouded Reiko’s eyes. She seemed trapped in a waking dream, her voice a drowsy murmur: ‘Say what? Did I say anything? And what did you say to me?’

Her mind was clearly slipping, most likely constrained by the instance’s underlying mechanics; deeper logic was beyond her reach.

Qi Si abandoned the inquiry. Carrying the tray still heaped with food, he walked to the canteen exit, meaning to dump the leftovers into the swill bucket.

‘Comrade, please finish everything on your plate. Support the Clean-Plate Campaign—leftovers mustn’t exceed thirty grams.’ A student on duty wearing a red armbar blocked Qi Si, flashing a scripted smile.

Qi Si lifted his chopsticks, pinched a strand of greens, and was about to eat it on the spot when he spotted a long hair threaded through the leaf, its end still flecked with skin and flesh, as though ripped from a scalp.

It wasn’t just the vegetables; the rice was changing too. Each white grain wriggled, oozing a putrid stench—clearly maggot-ridden scraps of meat.

Qi Si remembered the two mouthfuls he’d already swallowed and his expression turned odd.

He nodded to the duty student, stepped back, and returned to the hall. On the iron plate the food slowly reverted—still unappetizing, but at least recognizably normal.

The meals were tainted; inside the canteen they looked fine, probably because perception had been altered. But they were absolutely not fit for humans—barely even food.

Without batting an eye Qi Si carried the tray into the milling crowd, heading for the serving window.

Though he’d arrived late, he ate fast, and plenty of students were still around.

The throng gave perfect cover. He circled the window once, looking as if he’d just collected a meal, arousing no suspicion.

He aimed for the densest pack; brushing past a skinny boy, he pretended not to notice and trod on the boy’s foot, lurched forward, and sent the entire trayful splattering across the floor.

‘I’m really sorry—I was lost in a math problem and didn’t look. Are you okay?’ Qi Si patted the boy’s shoulder, full of sincere concern.

The boy clearly knew Lu Ming; worry flashed in his eyes. ‘Lu Ming, be more careful! I’m fine, but you’d better clean this up fast. If the old witch sees it, you’ll catch hell.’

He pointed to a small door beside the serving window. ‘Mop and broom are in there. Sweep first, then mop.’

‘Got it, thanks.’ Qi Si set down the tray and headed where the boy had indicated.

The serving auntie had already pushed her trolley away; the side door stood ajar, darkness thick behind it.

Threads of blood-scent drifted out, faint yet clinging, the breath of death.

Qi Si pulled the door open. In the dim light from the canteen he saw a pool of blood, its source lost in the shadows.

He jogged back to the boy whose foot he’d stepped on, grabbed the fabric at his shoulder, and feigned remorse: ‘I just remembered—Teacher Li wants me in her office before evening study. If I clean up now I’ll be late. Could you help me?’

The plea in the youth’s eyes and voice was flawless; his grip on the boy’s shirt was iron—impossible to refuse.

The boy gave him a sympathetic look. ‘Tough luck, singled out by the old witch. Hope you survive tonight.’

‘Survive tonight’—hyperbole, or literal?

Qi Si swallowed the question and said warmly, ‘Do me this favor and I’ll buy you a drink another day.’

‘Where would you get money?’ The boy hesitated, then finally nodded. ‘All right, I’ll help you clean.’

‘Thanks a ton!’ Qi Si beamed, stepping aside so the boy walked ahead.

The boy suspected nothing; he hurried to the door and flicked on the light switch inside.

Harsh white light flooded the room, driving back the shadows so everything lay visible.

Qi Si followed at a distance, expecting a scream that never came.

‘Lu Ming, hurry up! Didn’t you say the old witch wants you? Don’t keep her waiting,’ the boy urged, as if nothing were amiss.

‘Coming,’ Qi Si answered.

He quickened his pace and lowered his gaze.

The blood pool had spread further; a tendril of dark red crept past the threshold, climbing the floor.

The blood was fresh, clearly just drained from a living body—human, by the color and smell.

Qi Si skirted the puddle and stepped inside, tracing the trail upstream.

A girl’s head rested on a chopping block, her pretty face staring wide-eyed at the ceiling, blood-matted hair dangling over the edge.

It was Reiko!

Her blood seemed endless, cascading from the severed neck; a few strands of hair drifted languidly in the flow.

Qi Si moved closer. A cleaver stood embedded in the block, its blade still uncleaned.

Beside the block sat a metal pail packed with shredded meat, white maggots squirming inside.

That was flesh scraped from Reiko’s corpse—what the students had been served… Qi Si rested a hand on the boy’s shoulder, pointed at the pail, and asked, ‘What do you see?’

The boy looked at him as if he were an idiot: ‘Rice, what else? Though the school’s pretty gross, storing it here…’

Qi Si was now certain: ordinary NPCs in this instance couldn’t perceive anomalies; only someone like Li Fang could glimpse the truth—or rather, would turn anomalous the moment he spoke out.

The difference between Li Fang and this boy was that players saw prompt text when they looked at her; the same had been true for Reiko… The boy finally chose a dampish mop, grumbling, ‘Weird—don’t the aunties ever clean? Some of these mops are stiff as boards.’

Qi Si picked up a broom; the tools were clearly unused for ages, coated in thick dust.

Yet the canteen floor was spotless—impossible if no one had cleaned in ages… The boy dunked the mop and dragged a wet trail to the spilled food, beginning to mop.

Qi Si walked over, swept the scattered food into the dustpan, and from the corner of his eye saw Reiko, perfectly unharmed, sitting alone in the corner, eating quietly.

He pondered solemnly what might happen if Reiko saw her own corpse.

As the main NPC of this instance, she should be different from ordinary Ghosts, right? If even the Protagonist turns into a vengeful ghost, the word game can’t go on.

“Reiko!” Qi Si pointed at the small door and called out, “Could you fetch me a rag? Thanks!”

The boy looked at him, puzzled. “You’re not actually planning to mop the floor too, are you?”

Reiko said nothing, simply set down her tray and trotted into the room; moments later she returned with a freshly dampened cloth.

Nothing happened.

“Thanks, Reiko.” Qi Si accepted the rag with a smile, gave the floor a token wipe, then went to the sink and scrubbed his hands under running water until he nearly rubbed off a layer of skin.

Then it hit him: the food in this instance was suspect, and who knew what that water really was… Hmph, once he got out he’d wash his hands properly.

By now the cafeteria had emptied; students were drifting toward the teaching building.

Qi Si glanced at the time— the Pocket Watch of Fate read 5:25.

He returned the broom to its room, picked up his empty tray, and left the cafeteria without incident.

The sky was already half-dark; no sun in sight, only refracted afterglow smearing the horizon a leaden gray.

Evening self-study wouldn’t start until six, so the urgency he’d mentioned to the boy had been an act.

Qi Si walked against the flow and spotted the shut school gate behind the flowerbed.

A guard in uniform appeared from nowhere and blocked him. “During summer training no one leaves unless a parent collects you—no exceptions.”

Qi Si, who had no parents: “…”

“I’m not leaving, just looking.” He smiled, bade the guard goodbye, turned back, and memorized the campus map on the bulletin board.

Teaching building, cafeteria, dorms—three points in a line—plus an admin block and a sports field, and in one corner a lake half the size of the field; he had no idea what it was for.

Besides the map, the board cycled a PowerPoint about YongSheng Tech: the company had funded this private middle school called Hope Middle School, taking both top students and the poor.

Graduates of Hope Middle School were supposedly all-rounders—fun-loving, high-achieving, fiercely loyal to the group, eager to join YongSheng.

Some say it’s because the school cherry-picks the best students; those kids would excel anywhere.

An investor from YongSheng boasted: “We have the most advanced cultivation methods, unlocking every student’s unique value, producing people useful to society…”

Qi Si believed instances rarely offered useless info, especially in a text-heavy puzzle like this.

He just didn’t know which clue this chunk matched… He entered the teaching building and climbed to the Third Floor.

The corridors were full of chasing, laughing students—hardly the anxious ninth-graders facing entrance exams, more like carefree children.

Hope Middle School’s methods must be special; at least the kids looked relaxed and happy.

But could such an atmosphere really produce top scores?

True prodigies might stay brilliant with ease, but geniuses are few; most must rely on diligence.

Besides, Qi Si didn’t believe every one of the school’s thousands was a genius.

As for whether they’d all prayed to the Rabbit God—that seemed plausible, every clue eagerly pushing that answer… which only made him suspect it wasn’t so simple.

Qi Si didn’t hurry back to class; he stopped outside the teachers’ office.

By now no blood seeped from under the door; bright light spilled out, punctuated by occasional laughter.

Qi Si knocked. “Teacher Li, I’m Lu Ming; I’ve finished my self-criticism.”

“Come in!” Li Fang’s voice carried through the door.

Qi Si pushed it open to find only Li Fang inside.

Every other desk was empty; the laughter had vanished, the room as silent as a tomb.

Li Fang sat marking papers, head down. “Put it on my desk and go study; don’t waste time.”

Qi Si approached and caught a thick metallic scent—from beneath Li Fang’s desk.

He knew her corpse lay there; the body he’d seen that afternoon wouldn’t disappear so quickly.

Reiko couldn’t see her own corpse—would Li Fang be equally blind to hers?

“Ghosts mustn’t see their own bodies” was a real-world rule, but who knew if this instance followed it?

Qi Si set the paper down, right hand on the Pocket Watch of Fate, and asked, “Teacher, what’s under your desk?”

“Old papers and used workbooks,” Li Fang answered reflexively, gaze drifting downward.

Qi Si backed step by step to the door, ready to bolt.

Li Fang stared at the corpse beneath her desk; her face blanched. Then her neck twisted impossibly, eyes glaring with venom.

The descriptive text above her changed:

【Name: Li Fang (Homeroom teacher & math teacher, Grade 9 Class 9, Hope Middle School)】

【Type: NPC (currently hostile)】

【Note: She is a good teacher who especially hates bad students】

Qi Si gripped the handle but it wouldn’t turn; his hand came away slick—blood.

The door was locked. Li Fang slid from her chair and scuttled toward him like a spider.

Blood gushed across the floor, clawing for Qi Si.

A heartbeat before it touched him, Qi Si activated the Pocket Watch of Fate.

The blood reversed; Li Fang’s body wriggled back into the chair, bones snapping into place.

Qi Si himself lurched backward, out of the office, until he stood again in the corridor; the watch’s icon brightened—rewind complete.

It had flung him all the way back to before he’d entered?

He’d expected to rewind only to just before he’d asked what was under the desk—never this far.

Could simply walking in to hand in the self-criticism have been the fatal trigger?