TYMIMA Chapter 35

“Don’t be so agitated, young one.” He Jing’en carefully put the notebook back into the file folder, then half-stood to return the folder to its original place.

 

Throughout the process, he exposed his back to Lance. If Lance wanted to make a move against him, now would be the best opportunity.

 

But Lance didn’t act rashly. The person before him clearly wasn’t as weak and mediocre as he appeared. Moreover, Lance truly didn’t sense any hostility from him.

 

From their first meeting, Lance had felt that He Jing’en was happy about Erdiff’s death.

 

To some extent, at least at this moment, they weren’t enemies, but the exposure of his identity was still dangerous.

 

“Doesn’t the teacher want to ask me something?” Lance slightly loosened his hand pressing on his sleeve, saying coolly.

 

He put away his pure and naive student demeanor, revealing the shrewdness and cunning that should have been in his fox-like eyes.

 

The tense, solidified air in the office slowly began to flow. The plants swayed in the cross-breeze, completely dispersing the last trace of killing intent.

 

He Jing’en arranged the files neatly, then casually wiped the old wooden desktop with his palm. It was very clean, without a speck of dust.

 

As he wiped, he slowly muttered: “Your guard is too strong. You should see that I have no hostility toward you. Besides, this shabby office of mine doesn’t even have a camera that anyone would bother to install. Last month, someone even stole a pot of orchids.”

 

Lance understood that He Jing’en was subtly saying that this office was safe, and no one would catch him off guard.

 

After speaking, He Jing’en turned back, patted his callused hands, and grinned: “Actually, until now, I’ve only guessed that you’ve met Oliver.”

 

He Jing’en was very frank with Lance. Even if he had other guesses, there was no evidence. Without evidence, nothing was real. Moreover, in this era of rampant abilities, even evidence might not be true.

 

Lance smiled brightly: “I’m not sure I’ve met him. When he left this school, I wasn’t even born yet.”

 

He Jing’en raised an eyebrow, pretending to be surprised: “Why don’t I show you a photo, and you can compare?”

 

Lance’s smile deepened: “Sure.” He wanted to see what game He Jing’en was playing.

 

He Jing’en actually reopened the drawer and carefully took out an old group photo.

 

Pointing at the photo, he observed Lance with a smile while enthusiastically saying: “Look, I’ve only taken photos with the champions of the Challenge Cup competition from two years, and it’s been twenty years in a flash.”

 

Lance glanced at it.

 

It was a photo of three people. The youth standing in the middle had a head of golden curly hair. His skin was fair, his cheeks round, his eyes deep and clear, dazzling in this photo.

 

He was mischievously standing on tiptoe, hooking the neck of the Alpha to his right, his expression vivid and lively, as if filled with endless vitality.

 

Lance could guarantee that if this kind of Omega were seen by the chairman of the Night Walker Guild, who had been married eighty-eight times, his drool would probably flood Star University.

 

Oliver, although now completely transformed by suffering, at least his appearance was confirmed.

 

Lance then looked at the Alpha being embraced by Oliver—steady but with a touch of immaturity, his brows and eyes lacking the murderous aura. Without even identifying, he knew it was a young version of Si Hongche.

 

Indeed, every dog-like person still looked somewhat human when young.

 

Finally, he looked at He Jing’en, who was standing with his hands behind his back.

 

The He Jing’en in the photo didn’t have as barren a hairline as now. With the addition of that ring of “Mediterranean” baldness, his smile didn’t look as cunning as it does now.

 

Time is indeed a barber’s razor.

 

“Recognize him?” He Jing’en asked kindly.

 

“More or less,” Lance replied ambiguously.

 

“It can’t just be more or less, right?” He Jing’en said with a smile. “In this Challenge Cup competition, didn’t Oliver interfere? He’s a plant system S-level Awakened one with an ability called [Virtual Realm]. His purpose in doing so was to find the assassin who killed Boras and Kluova.”

 

“Is that so?” Lance’s smile deepened.

 

What a cunning old fox. Just from his knowledge that Oliver wasn’t dead, he deduced that Lance was the Black Lantern Society’s assassin.

 

Indeed, who else but the Black Lantern Society would know about Oliver, a person who had disappeared for eighteen years?

 

He Jing’en’s smile suddenly faded. He leaned against the chair back, his expression gentle yet helpless: “Oliver still showed mercy.”

 

From the moment all the freshmen returned safely, He Jing’en had understood many things.

 

“How do you know?”

 

“Because he’s a kind person. If you were captured and interrogated by Si Hongche, he would be very distressed.”

 

“I see.” Lance’s lips curled into a smile, his tense muscles completely relaxing. He even felt he could sit down and have a calm, proper conversation with He Jing’en.

 

A student who shared his interests and loved history had fallen to such a state. Didn’t He Jing’en resent it? Didn’t he hate it?

 

From being the head of a college at the prestigious Star University to a well-known slacker, was He Jing’en truly willing to sink so low?

 

The room full of plants, the old photo hidden in the drawer, the undisguised pride when mentioning Oliver, and the carefully preserved, yellowed notebook.

 

This person was suffering every moment for his inability to save his favorite student.

 

In this case, he had actually grasped He Jing’en’s weakness.

 

“Then why did you just say Oliver was dead?” Lance examined him at his leisure.

 

He Jing’en looked at the few plants in the room, smiling faintly in a daze: “Because he’s now living a life worse than death.”

 

He Jing’en vaguely remembered that Erdiff’s death was due to the Black Lantern Society releasing a help request, clearly stating the applicant and the reason for help. Erdiff deserved to die, and Star University’s reputation was damaged as a result.

 

If Oliver had the chance, he would probably also hope for such a powerful organization to help him end his life that was worse than death.

 

So, he spared the Black Lantern Society member who might exist among the freshmen.

 

He must have already sent out that request, prepared to face death.

 

Nothing or no one in this world could stir his heart anymore. His beloved history, his unfinished research, would all become ephemeral dust with his passing.

 

But this was also good.

 

He Jing’en reached for his thermos, shook it only to find there was no tea left. He sighed and directly grabbed a handful of tea leaves from the canister to chew on.

 

Oliver, your teacher understands you, but your teacher can’t save you. Even for a farewell, I can only borrow someone else’s hand.

 

After a long while, He Jing’en finally swallowed the bitter tea leaves in his mouth. It was truly bitter.

 

Lance watched quietly. He Jing’en’s expression was different from Deng Zhi’s. Deng Zhi’s was heart-wrenching despair, while He Jing’en’s was a long-lasting, perpetual calmness—a calmness that had sunk to the bottom of the sea, deep enough to swallow all emotions.

 

Was this what Old Lan established the Black Lantern Society for, to let him see these things? Then what should the emotion he was experiencing now be called?

 

He Jing’en seemed to have been revitalized by the tea polyphenols in that mouthful of tea leaves. He regained his spirited appearance and asked curiously: “Are all the members of the Black Lantern Society young people like you?”

 

He directly pointed it out.

 

Lance came back to his senses but smiled without speaking.

 

Seeing that Lance wouldn’t admit it, He Jing’en scratched his shiny scalp somewhat frustratedly, then suddenly slapped: “Oh, I just remembered something.”

 

He Jing’en put his hand into his sleeve, his shoulders slightly hunched, looking like a shrewd old man: “Hong Suo Ability Research Institute has newly developed a device that can extract ability pheromone information from the deceased within an hour of death. Once analyzed by the device, the foreign body’s pheromone scent, level, and attributes are all revealed.”

 

After saying this, He Jing’en smiled.

 

Lance’s expression slightly changed upon hearing this, belatedly breaking into a cold sweat.

 

Today, everyone’s ability pheromones are unique, almost becoming a symbol of identity. Once the pheromone scent, attributes, and level are locked, the person is basically identified.

 

Under the Federation government’s rule, such a person would have no choice but to flee thousands of miles away.

 

So, Blue Pivot had already mastered such advanced technology.

 

He Jing’en pointed at himself, chuckled, with some cunning in his eyes: “I, your teacher, helped a bit by adding some fire before Blue Pivot’s equipment arrived.”

 

Lance instantly thought of the burned car. Because it was burned beyond recognition, no ability pheromones could be extracted.

 

He understood that He Jing’en wasn’t boasting but exchanging leverage with him.

 

At least in the matter of assassinating Boras and Kluova, he, Zhan Pingchuan, and He Jing’en were in the same boat.

 

The subsequent conversation would be much easier.

 

Sure enough, He Jing’en asked with interest: “The one who split Boras in half with one skill that day, was that your person?”

 

Lance’s lips twitched very slightly, his expression becoming quite speechless.

 

Of course not.

 

But he was afraid that after denying it, He Jing’en would put more effort into digging into Zhan Pingchuan’s identity.

 

So he had to bite the bullet: “……Yes.”

 

“Ha, I knew it was your person.” He Jing’en laughed like an old child, quite satisfied with Lance’s reaction.

 

This was equivalent to Lance indirectly admitting that he was indeed sent by the Black Lantern Society.

 

Lance clenched and unclenched his fist, forcibly taking the blame that actually belonged to the August-born little idiot.

 

He Jing’en rubbed his hands and sighed: “Your method is quite efficient, just too flamboyant. I didn’t expect the Black Lantern Society to take this approach.”

 

Lance: “……Mm.” Not the Black Lantern Society, but the little idiot.

 

He Jing’en: “Oliver is a low-key person who prefers elegant and quiet methods. Bloody scenes don’t suit him. Let your friend who loves to split people take a break.”

 

Lance: “……Mm.” Forget it, just reluctantly accept it.

 

“Oh!” He Jing’en raised a finger, shaking it three times in the air, then buried his head, rummaging through drawers and cabinets, finding a brand-new fountain pen from the pen holder.

 

With his thin fingers, he unscrewed the end of the fountain pen, then pinched the back suction tube, aimed the pen tip at his venous blood vessel, and stabbed it in hard.

 

Lance raised his eyes in astonishment.

 

Fresh blood quickly welled up, flowing down He Jing’en’s dark skin, dripping onto the ground.

 

He Jing’en quickly extracted a small tube of blood from his skeletal arm, discarding the still-bleeding arm without care, instead anxiously sealing the fountain pen tightly.

 

“I forgot to mention, Si Hongche is a control system S-level Awakened one. His third-tier ability is [Command Obedience]. If he orders Oliver to live, Oliver cannot commit suicide. And I am a sika deer form animal system Awakened one. My blood has purification abilities.”

 

He Jing’en carefully and preciously handed the fountain pen to Lance. His expression remained joyful and cheerful, as if he were giving an exquisite birthday gift.

 

“To reduce the risk of your operation, and to let Oliver make his own choice.” He Jing’en patted Lance’s hand, smiling and saying, “Why don’t you deliver this pen to him for me? Tell him, as teacher and student, the teacher will send him on his final journey.”

 

The fountain pen, carrying the smell of blood, suddenly felt so heavy it was hard to hold. Lance’s brows furrowed deeply, his amber eyes filled with complex emotions.

 

Now he finally understood why Oliver had requested the Black Lantern Society to kill him.

 

So there was such a malicious ability in this world that could prevent someone from even seeking death.

 

Lance’s eyes flashed coldly as he gripped the fountain pen tightly.

 

 

“What exactly happened to Oliver eighteen years ago?”

 

He had already obtained what he wanted. He Jing’en had even given him a good method to withdraw unscathed. He had no need to ask this question anymore.

 

After all, Oliver’s request was simply to die. Whatever he had done, or however he had fallen into such a situation, it didn’t contradict this outcome.

 

However, Lance vaguely felt that what Lan Wendao wanted him to become was precisely the kind of person who would ask such a question.

 

He Jing’en was stunned for a moment, then looked toward an olive plant in the corner of the room, narrowing his eyes, his gaze distant.

 

“I don’t know too many details. When it happened, he had already left campus. By the time the news reached me, the rebellion suppression had begun. At that time, Capital City was in chaos, with abilities, warfare, killing, and separation everywhere. Everyone was fleeing, seeking help. Communications, airports, and stations were all shut down. I couldn’t contact him in time.”

 

Lance frowned.

 

The rebellion suppression again.

 

He was almost averse to this term. If he hadn’t accidentally torn open Erdiff’s death oath and inadvertently heard the secret of the rebellion suppression, he wouldn’t have been stuck at Star University, unable to leave.

 

This history occurred before his birth and left no visual or written records. Although in He Jing’en’s oral account, this war was quite brutal, Lance still couldn’t feel its reality.

 

After all, it had nothing to do with him.

 

“Then what?”

 

“Oliver, he… after the war subsided, I learned that he had been imprisoned in the AGW Special Dangerous Death Row Prison with a four-year sentence. It’s said that the prison is in the Lotasi Ice Field, buried deep, deep underground. The supervision there is strict, with rare lead ore everywhere. Even an S-level would have no possibility of escape. He stayed in that tomb-like place, isolated from the world, for four years.” He Jing’en sighed, murmuring about the matter that had been bothering him.

 

This was the first time Lance had heard that such a place existed under the Federation government’s rule.

 

The higher-ups turned a blind eye to indiscriminate killing; he had thought that things like prisons had evolved away long ago.

 

“I didn’t have many connections. At that time, I sought help everywhere and finally contacted the great hero of the rebellion suppression, Si Hongche, who by then was already the director of Blue Pivot’s Second District. One was thrown in jail, the other rose to prominence. It really made me, as their teacher, feel dejected.”

 

After speaking, He Jing’en saw that Lance had no reaction to Si Hongche, so he belatedly explained: “Before the incident, Si Hongche was Oliver’s fiancé. In college… they had a good relationship.”

 

Despite having seen too many cruel scenes and having experienced considerable mental contamination himself, upon hearing the word “fiancé,” Lance still felt physically uncomfortable and nauseated.

 

The absurdity of these three words at this moment was almost indescribable, as if those hollow, desperate eyes, throughout a lifetime, could never understand these strokes.

 

Lance mocked: “Your meeting must have been quite spectacular.”

 

He Jing’en smiled, his tone filled with deep sighs: “Indeed, it was spectacular.”

 

Because at that time, he still regarded Si Hongche as Oliver’s only lover, thinking that Si Hongche was as anxious as himself about Oliver’s sentence. So after finally making contact, he even asked Si Hongche if there was any way to help Oliver get out earlier.

 

He still remembered Si Hongche’s expression at that time, as if he was making a huge joke, as if what he said was the most ridiculous joke in the world.

 

That was the first time he deeply understood the weight of the phrase “the past is too painful to recall.”

 

“Oliver had a half-brother with the same mother,” He Jing’en suddenly said.

 

The interruption of the previous logic made Lance slightly uncomfortable. He was more interested in knowing exactly what Si Hongche had said to He Jing’en, but he didn’t interject, because at this moment, He Jing’en wouldn’t say a single wasted word to him.

 

“His brother was called Uriel, a social science researcher at the Hong Suo Ability Research Institute. In my impression, he was quite a rigid academic, whose only hobby was traveling around the world, conducting humanities research, social surveys, and writing critical articles. Oliver was deeply influenced by him and greatly admired and cherished him.”

 

Through He Jing’en’s description, the portrait of this Uriel had roughly appeared in Lance’s mind—

 

A stubborn, hardworking, unappreciated good person.

 

He Jing’en paused, then said seriously: “Uriel lost control while drunk and killed Si Hongche’s four-year-old sister.”

 

Lance didn’t speak, but his pupils suddenly contracted tightly.

 

His impression of Uriel just now was still that of an unappreciated good person.

 

He Jing’en continued: “And Oliver, using his official position, helped Uriel escape.”

 

“Was Uriel caught?” Lance asked.

 

He Jing’en shook his head: “He disappeared.”

 

Disappeared completely, never to appear again.

 

It was precisely because of this that Oliver’s crime was unforgivable. He was originally to be executed, but Si Hongche used his merits from the rebellion suppression to save him, only letting him serve four years in prison.

 

Lance stared at He Jing’en for a long time before chuckling lightly: “You don’t believe it.”

 

From He Jing’en’s account, he neither believed that Uriel would kill a child, nor that he had merely disappeared.

 

He Jing’en raised his relaxed eyelids, causing several wrinkles to form on his forehead.

 

He snorted with laughter: “Whether I believe it or not isn’t important. I knew Uriel and am biased toward Oliver. What I say is prejudiced. Eighteen years have passed. The interrogation materials and autopsy report from that year have long been sealed in the third underground level of Blue Pivot’s database. No one can see them anymore.”

 

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 (advanced chapters available on kofi)