Chapter 175
Chapter 175
Translator: True Detective
Chapter 175: Luckily, Lan Qi Isn’t a Hitman Hired by the Resurrection Church
Ikerite Academy was still wrapped in a hazy tranquility.
Dawn had just begun to paint the quiet world, shading the distant sky from bluish-gray to pale pink, like pigments dispersing slowly in water.
On this Tuesday morning at six, after eating breakfast together at school, Lan Qi, Huperion, and Frey walked along the academy’s broad road toward the Sage Court dormitories.
The lights in the lobby glowed dim and warm. Behind the desk, the dorm manager leaned against a soft cushion, holding a book to ease the weariness of the early morning.
At this hour, most students were still lost in dreams; only a few early risers quietly slipped out of their rooms.
“Then let’s rest for a bit and head to the student council in the afternoon.”
Lan Qi spoke to Huperion at the fork in the road.
“Alright.”
Huperion nodded and went her way, leaving Lan Qi and Frey to head to Lan Qi’s dorm.
On the carpeted corridor of the first floor, Lan Qi and Frey strolled leisurely.
Their low laughter echoed in the empty hallway, lined with tightly closed doors—each door like a breathing creature, hiding its own small world, filled with stories and dreams.
The boys’ dormitory was in the front building, the girls’ in the back, not far apart.
Lan Qi had already lent the Great Poet to Huperion. Once she reached her dorm, she could simply call him, and he’d come out on his own.
The Great Poet understood magical cards too well. As long as Lan Qi lifted the single summoning restriction on him, he could even summon himself—or cancel his own summoning—something no ordinary summon could do.
This morning, Frey would follow Lan Qi to his dorm. One would keep watch, the other would sleep, each resting for three hours.
The student council wasn’t even open this early in the morning. There was nothing else to do.
Though this Sanctum Villain Banquet hadn’t been a twelve-hour Shadow World like Purgatory Corridor Academy—lasting instead five days—today, the final morning, they had risen especially early.
And after traveling away for several days, fatigue pressed on them. They wanted nothing more than to sleep well.
They stopped at a door. Lan Qi pulled out a key, turned it gently in the lock, and stepped into his dorm with Frey.
The lights inside the lounge were warmer than the corridor. Soft sofas and a minimalist tea table sat quietly together, a few books and glassware resting on top.
“This time, the mole is tough to catch.”
Frey crossed his arms, sitting on the sofa, brows furrowed.
His hunter instincts had been active the whole way.
Though the three appeared relaxed, Frey hadn’t detected even a hint of being tailed or observed.
Both he and Lan Qi, acting as protectors, deliberately left all pressure off Huperion, the bait.
Many things could only be discussed when it was just the two of them.
“At this point, the enemy would only strike if they were absolutely certain. If we try to lure or probe, we’ll only make them wary.”
Lan Qi poured two glasses of lemon-honey water, handed one to Frey, then sat beside him.
If they acted too directly—say, by confronting Yaloran’s academic delegation with forced anti-cult education—the intent would be far too obvious.
That would signal to the Resurrection Church that their elite cultist Stisela, captured in the Shadow World, had leaked information. Even imprisoned, she would face merciless retaliation.
Stisela had risked her life to deliver that intelligence. Lan Qi was determined to protect her.
“So you still want to use Huperion as bait?”
Frey sipped the honey-lemon water. The crisp coolness refreshed his throat perfectly.
The honey smoothed the lemon’s sharpness, while the lemon balanced honey’s sweetness—a perfect partnership.
“Baiting is safest. We just don’t have enough intel this time. Think about it—”
Lan Qi set down his mug and began ticking points off his fingers:
“For example, if the assassin has already self-hypnotized, they’d appear like a perfectly normal student until triggered. In the real world, no matter what we do, we wouldn’t catch them—we’d only spook them.”
That was the difference between Shadow World and reality.
If the assassin’s hypnosis was deep enough, they might not even be able to break it under danger—risky in Shadow Worlds, but in the safe Hedon Kingdom, they could lie dormant without fear.
“Or say the enemy wields some troublesome unknown magic—laying traps we can’t predict.”
“The simplest example: if the killer can disguise themselves with something like Blood Masquerade.”
“They could bribe the mole inside Ikerite to leak info on the girl living in the dorm next to Huperion’s. Then they abduct that girl, lock her up, and disguise themselves as her.
That way, their real identity vanishes from the Yaloran team, making it look like a student disappeared. While the school investigates, the killer lurks right next to Huperion, waiting to strike.”
“Or worse—they could pick a time when Huperion has no alibi, disguise as her, commit murder, and frame her.
She’d be detained as a suspect, cut off from us, vulnerable in prison—an easy target for covert methods.”
“And there’s also—”
“Enough, enough.”
Frey raised his hand quickly, cutting him off.
“At least I’m sure of one good thing now.”
His face grew serious.
“What?” Lan Qi asked, puzzled.
“I’m glad the assassin sent for Huperion isn’t you.”
“...”
Lan Qi froze, then sputtered:“How could I ever kill Huperion!”
He had been seriously analyzing scenarios, and Frey turned it into a joke.
“If the Resurrection Church had hired you, Huperion wouldn’t survive ten lives.”
Frey leaned back, laughing hard. Lan Qi’s expression was too entertaining.
But soon, Frey grew solemn again.
They had to protect Huperion, catch the cultist, and make it look like luck—not strategy. That was the real difficulty.
The Great Poet made her safe for now, and they could rush to her if trouble arose.
But if they hovered too close, they’d scare off the big fish.
Staying near Sage Court today was reasonable—they’d just returned from the Shadow World.
But if they lingered there every day, any assassin would abandon their plan.
Too far, though, and Huperion’s danger grew.
They would rather miss the big catch than let her fall into real peril.
“So I should probably vanish for a while.”
Frey suggested.
If he disappeared from the map, things might go smoothly.
“There’s actually another solution…”
Lan Qi murmured.
“I’ll give it a try. If it works, it’ll be perfect.”
But his tone carried little confidence.
If he could get Huperion to stay at Talia’s place, he and Frey could distance themselves without worry.
The assassin would be digging their own grave.
The problem: Talia no longer lacked money.
Bribing her with wealth was useless.
Lan Qi also had nothing worthy of trade on hand.
And Talia hated company. Letting Huperion into her private space nearly violated her bottom line.
“Hopefully the old lady’s in a good mood today…”
Lan Qi leaned back on the sofa, muttering to the ceiling.
In any case, once the student council business was done that afternoon, he’d take Huperion to meet Talia at the Cat Boss restaurant.
Nine times out of ten, she’d coldly refuse, hating Huperion and, by extension, him.
But sometimes, for no reason at all, Talia showed surprising warmth.
Her temper was like the weather—unpredictable, impossible to guess what tomorrow would bring.