Chapter 203

Chapter 203

With the contract in effect, I activated my Ability, pretending to tinker for a bit, then said gravely: “I’ve adjusted it. As long as you stay still and avoid humans, you’ll be fine.”

“Black Flash” wasn’t targeting the Heart Nightmare Beasts anyway. If they hid and didn’t stir trouble, “Black Flash” wouldn’t bother them.

I’d pulled off a perfect con, snagging a little heart with ease!

Due to shared vision, many High-Level Nightmare Beasts recognized my face. Destiny-type Ability users who could truly alter fate were rare, even in Ability user history.

Cloud Nightmare Beasts, Knowledge Nightmare Beasts, and others had either seen me in person or through shared vision, often suffering at my hands. Plus, I was one of the few who knew the secret of Nightmare Beast origins, so their impression of me was deep.

With the contract, the Nightmare Beasts weren’t worried I’d lie. After I spoke, a white line appeared on the Black Paper Nightmare Beast’s body—the black paper itself. The line formed a heart shape, then rose, detaching to become a real black heart.

“Here’s the ‘Perfect Heart.’ Deal’s done.” It tossed the heart to me, then suddenly swallowed me again, revealing the Nightmare Beasts’ cruel cunning: “We only guaranteed the trade’s integrity, not your safety afterward.”

Though I’d confidently claimed I could escape, and it mostly believed me, that didn’t stop it from trying to kill me. If I was bluffing, it’d profit. If I had an escape, it’d at least deplete my props or reveal more of my abilities. It wouldn’t lose.

But I wasn’t defenseless either. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have left out a safeguard in the contract. Well, I did include one, just not overtly.

“You know, you’ve already breached the contract,” I said, resuming my relaxed sitting posture.

Puzzled, the Black Paper Nightmare Beast asked: “How? The contract didn’t say I had to let you leave safely.”

Chuckling, I shook my head, casually toying with a Gear: “The contract said you’d give me a ‘Perfect Heart’ with ten minutes’ usability. But is the ‘Perfect Heart’ you gave me ten minutes?”

“How is it not? It was freshly kil—” It stopped mid-sentence, realizing: “You’re playing word games?”

A “Perfect Heart” had ten minutes from death to losing effect. Unless I killed the Heart Nightmare Beast myself, no matter how fast they were, the heart delivered to me wouldn’t be ten minutes—maybe nine minutes and change.

So, the moment they signed, they’d breached, just waiting for me to call it out.

Exactly. Small-scale breaches like this didn’t trigger the contract immediately. With both parties alive, minor issues unrelated to the contract’s core could be negotiated.

Take this contract: if I didn’t fulfill my part, causing most or all Heart Nightmare Beasts to die, or if they didn’t give me the “Perfect Heart” after I helped, the contract would activate, punishing the breacher.

But for a minor breach, like the heart’s time being slightly off, it was negotiable. Only if I died or explicitly demanded punishment would the contract penalize the Heart Nightmare Beasts.

This was my safeguard. As the Black Paper Nightmare Beast said, I was playing word games. But with a written contract, what else would you play?

Successfully trapping them with this, my mood lifted a bit, though I felt some regret. I’d hoped to use this to boost my Gear Ability. Was there really no chance?

Learning I had a trump card and they couldn’t touch me, the Black Paper Nightmare Beast, hearing the Heart Nightmare Beasts’ remote pleas of “don’t touch him,” cursed humans’ cursed my cunning inwardly.

It wanted to kill this sly human regardless, but that’d make it a target. Nightmare Beasts had no rule against killing each other, but sacrificing so many High-Level Nightmare Beasts for one human would surely anger others.

Reluctantly, it released me, grumbling: “Fine, I’ll let you go.”

Seeing daylight again, I squinted, pulling out the folding door prop Lei Ze’en had prepared for our return to the real world. As I fiddled with it, I walked off without looking back.

Just as I set up the folding door, I spun around, releasing a Gear straight at the Black Paper Nightmare Beast.

It hadn’t expected a weak human to counterattack in this situation, nor did it take my attack seriously. Caught off guard, it was sliced open.

Flames spread from the cut. The Black Paper Nightmare Beast gasped, collapsing into the sand, rolling to extinguish the fire, heedless of its image.

When the flames were finally out, a huge hole gaped in its center. Covered in soot and ash, it looked utterly pathetic.

Its tone was laced with shock and rage: “Where’d you get fire?”

Inside its “stomach,” I’d seemed to exhaust every trick without harming it. Otherwise, it wouldn’t have let its guard down against a cunning human.

It had underestimated me. I’d actually breached its defenses and hurt it.

“My Gear always hits, no matter the method.” I smirked, opening the teleportation door and slipping through just as it lunged, my mocking voice and laughter echoing: “You look more interesting on fire!”

Stepping out, I returned to the back of the school’s assembly platform. We’d used the teleportation prop here to enter the Nightmare Beast world, so we returned here.

Compared to earlier, the sky was truly bright now. It was 8 a.m., and the sounds of students exercising on the field reached me. I belatedly felt a wave of exhaustion, but my face was all smiles, my spirit buzzing.

I’d succeeded! Not only did I get the “Perfect Heart,” but I’d also achieved my initial goal of boosting my strength!

How did I hurt the Black Paper Nightmare Beast? Its traits were key. The first time I attacked inside its “stomach,” I noticed its skin was soft and smooth, like a pliable sheet of A4 paper.

Anyone with basic life experience knows that piercing a sheet of paper held in one hand with a knife or needle is impossible. The paper’s softness shifts the force, leaving it unharmed.

The Black Paper Nightmare Beast was like that. Though it seemed similar to Zhou Renjie’s Ability, attacking by “eating” people. As a paper-type Nightmare Beast, some things were unchangeable. Like its fear of fire.

Most creatures feared flames, but for the Black Paper Nightmare Beast, they were especially deadly. A small spark might do little to ordinary Nightmare Beasts or humans, but once ignited on paper, the damage was immense.

I didn’t need “immense”—just enough to hurt it.

My Gears were metal, and metal could be ignited with the right material. The Gear I’d shot was made of potassium, a highly reactive metal that ignites from air friction.

Its high speed ensured the Gear was ablaze before reaching the Black Paper Nightmare Beast. It wasn’t the Gear that hit—it was the fire.

The flames touched the Black Paper Nightmare Beast, setting it alight, making it seem like my Gear had ignited it.

I was pleased with the result. I was 100% sure this segment of getting the “Perfect Heart” would be drawn in the manga, and the bit about retaliating against the Nightmare Beast had a high chance too.

Readers didn’t know my trick, so I could use my “Prophet” persona to spin it however I wanted.

My middle school teacher was right: master math, physics, and chemistry, and you’ll fear nothing.

“Su Bei? Weren’t you out on a mission? Why are you here?” A teacher’s voice rang out—it was the first-year Director Li. Though she taught Class A, not me, she naturally knew the school’s prominent figures.

I understood. The teachers didn’t want to expose our unauthorized trip to the Nightmare Beast world and had covered for us. I replied calmly: “Good morning, Director. I came back to get medicine for Teacher Meng from Teacher Ye. I’m heading to the infirmary now.”

The excuse was reasonable, but Director Li was skeptical. My presence here at this hour seemed more like skipping class than running an errand. She said: “I’ll go with you.”

I had no objections. I was indeed going to Ye Lin, and she’d likely back me up. Having a teacher tag along didn’t matter; I hadn’t done anything wrong.

I confidently led Director Li to the infirmary, where Ye Lin was on duty. The moment she saw me, she froze. Knowing the rough outline of events, she was aware I should still be in the Nightmare Beast world. Why was I back, and alone?

“Teacher Ye, this student says he’s here to pick up medicine for Meng Huai,” Director Li said bluntly. “Have you prepared it?”

Ye Lin glanced at me, then smiled: “It’s ready. I’ll get it for him. You go back; don’t delay your class.”

Seeing her confirm, Director Li didn’t linger, nodding and leaving.

After shooing her off together, Ye Lin closed the infirmary door and hurriedly asked: “Why are you back? Did you get the ‘Perfect Heart’? Where are the others?”

Answering her three questions unhurriedly, I said: “I came back after completing the mission. The ‘Perfect Heart’ is with me. The others are being chased by the ‘Black Flash’ organization.”

Ye Lin was speechless.

The information was overwhelming, and she didn’t know what to focus on. Sorting her thoughts, she prioritized: “Give me the ‘Perfect Heart.’ I’ll install it in Mu Tieren. Wait here. I’ll call Meng Huai to come over, and you can tell him what happened in the Nightmare Beast world.”

I handed her the “Perfect Heart” as instructed, adding: “About five minutes of usability left.”

Then I sat on the sofa, obedient but far from proper, looking ready to wait patiently for Meng Huai.

Seeing my demeanor, Ye Lin shook her head with a wry smile. Good thing she wasn’t a homeroom teacher—let Meng Huai deal with these troublesome kids.

Meng Huai arrived quickly, with Principal Wu Di in tow. Their expressions were complex; they hadn’t expected a third party to get involved.

The moment he arrived, Meng Huai cut to the chase: “Su Bei, what’s this about the ‘Black Flash’ organization?”

Since the “Perfect Heart” was secured, Mu Tieren’s safety wasn’t a concern. They were more worried about “Black Flash” and how I and the others ran into them.

I gave a concise account, emphasizing one point: our encounter wasn’t random; “Black Flash” had deliberately waited for us there.

Their faces darkened. They caught my hint—there was still an undiscovered mole in Endless Ability Academy.

“We understand. We’ll investigate thoroughly,” Wu Di promised gravely, then asked about the students: “Do you know how your classmates are doing?”

I shook my head, adding after a thought: “They were still in the Nightmare Beast world when I left.”

Otherwise, the “Space Lock” wouldn’t still be active.

Less than ten minutes had passed since I left, so if they hurried, they might still save them.

Meng Huai stood immediately: “I’ll go find them.”

“Take a few teachers,” Wu Di said, not comfortable letting him go alone. Though Meng Huai was strong, “Black Flash” wasn’t to be underestimated. Going solo was risky.

As he sent him off, Wu Di suddenly remembered: “First, find Feng Lan. See if he can get anything useful with [Prophecy].”

“Got it,” Meng Huai nodded, pushing the door to leave.

After seeing him off, Wu Di turned to me: “Go rest. You must be exhausted after a busy day. We’ll notify you when Mu Tieren wakes.”

I nodded, not refusing. I was indeed tired and needed a good rest.

Back at the dorm, I slept. Waking up, I checked my phone—it was 3 p.m., and the manga hadn’t updated. Ye Lin had messaged me, saying the treatment was successful, and Mu Tieren would likely wake around 4 or 5 p.m.

I grabbed a late lunch outside the Academy, bought some fruit at the supermarket, and, seeing the time was about right, leisurely headed to the infirmary.

My timing was perfect—Mu Tieren had just woken up. Staring at the white infirmary ceiling, he was dazed for a moment before his thoughts fully returned.

Recalling what happened, he instinctively looked at his chest. His body was fully repaired, showing no scars.

Touching his chest, feeling the beating heart, a trace of confusion crossed his face. He slowly sat up, only to see me walking in.

“Su Bei?” Mu Tieren was surprised. “Why are you here?”

I set the fruit on the small table by his bed, replying with a teasing tone: “Visiting a patient?”

What else would I be doing?

Realizing he’d asked a dumb question, Mu Tieren coughed and got to the point: “How’s my uncle?”

“Probably locked up in the Ability prison?” I wasn’t sure. After returning, I’d only seen Meng Huai briefly, with no chance to ask about Boss Sun.

“How are the others?” Hearing his uncle was in prison, Mu Tieren relaxed slightly but grew worried again. He remembered Wu Mingbai and the others were also unconscious before he passed out, unsure if they’d woken.

“They’re all awake, since yesterday. Oh, it’s Monday now,” I replied.

Finally having time to focus on himself, Mu Tieren asked: “What’s my situation? That green heart…”

He hesitated. His pride wouldn’t allow that green heart to stay in his body, even if it meant dying.

But he worried his classmates had reinstalled it to save him, and saying so outright might betray their kindness.

“It’s been taken by First Ability Hospital for research,” I said, seeing through his unspoken words.

“Huh?” Mu Tieren blinked, clearly not expecting that.

I teased: “You don’t need it anymore, right? Using it for research benefits society and atones for Boss Sun. You don’t mind, do you?”

When Dr. Zhou proposed this, I thought it was a good idea. Mu Tieren wouldn’t want the green heart, but destroying it felt wasteful. If the hospital could use it for research, why not?

“Of course not!” Mu Tieren shook his head vigorously, relieved. Like me, he felt the green heart was best used for hospital research.

But then he grew puzzled: “How was I healed? I don’t feel like I’m missing a heart. It even feels better than before.”

He could sense whether he had a heart, and now, feeling closely, he noticed a difference. If the previous heart constantly supplied energy, this one felt like it belonged in his body. It didn’t provide that energy but was more comfortable and natural.

I recounted everything that happened after he passed out: Boss Sun’s defeat, the doctors’ treatment plan, and our decision to go to the Nightmare Beast world for a “Perfect Heart.”

I felt I could take up storytelling as a side gig. Spilling such a long tale in one go, with clear logic, tight reasoning, and a vivid, engaging story—who could top that?

By the end, Mu Tieren’s eyes were slightly red. He hadn’t expected everyone to go to such lengths for him. The Nightmare Beast world was dangerous, even for powerful Ability users, let alone students like us.

Knowing the teachers couldn’t lead, Jiang Tianming and the others still risked their lives to find the best treatment. This bond moved him deeply.

“Thanks, Su Bei, I didn’t expect you…”

“Whoa, hold it,” I cut him off. “Keep the gratitude in your heart. Next time the homeroom teacher checks homework, cover for me, and we’re square.”

Though my goal in the Nightmare Beast world wasn’t to help Mu Tieren, I did bring back the “Perfect Heart,” so I could accept his thanks.

“No way,” Mu Tieren refused firmly, ever principled. “The homework the teacher assigns is for our benefit. Covering for you would harm you.”

Before I could finish rolling my eyes, he pursed his lips and continued: “But if you really don’t do it, I can suggest to the teacher to assign less written homework.”

As Class Monitor, and an obedient one, Meng Huai listened to Mu Tieren’s suggestions. If he said the homework was too much, Meng Huai might reduce it. Not a bad deal—I flashed a satisfied smile.

“By the way, where’s Jiang Tianming and the others?” After chatting, Mu Tieren suddenly realized something was off. How could only I be visiting? Normally, Jiang Tianming and the others were far more likely to show up.

In my earlier recount, I hadn’t dwelled on the Nightmare Beast world. First, “Black Flash” was a separate issue, unrelated to Mu Tieren’s problem. Second, with him recovering, I didn’t want to burden him with things he couldn’t solve.