After drawing cards, the evil god became my source of吐槽 (tu cao, a form of humorous commentary/criti

Chapter 71 Dog Skin Plaster
It lay quietly on the table behind her.

The pen even spun around nimbly, as if to greet her.

An Jing: "..."

"Am I being harassed by props?"

When she tried to return it for the third time, she ran back to her dorm room as soon as she took the prop out.

This time, she was so angry that she dialed 002 directly.

After a moment of silence on the other end of the phone, 002 said, "Why don't you just give in to it?"

An Jing looked incredulous. "I don't want it."

“You have to have it.” 002 sighed. “It has already recognized its master and has a very strong consciousness. It is bound to your spiritual aura and residual fluctuations. No one but you can touch it. Because you have lost it several times, it will not let anyone else touch it now.”

"It excludes others."

"You can't expect me to carry around such an... outrageous prop every day, can you?!" An Jing exclaimed incredulously. "I'm a student, I have to attend classes. What if this prop suddenly merges with some mysterious magnetic field or something? Wouldn't I be harming someone else?"

“It won’t actively harm you.” 002’s voice calmed down. “We’ve analyzed it, and its spiritual source may be related to some kind of rule-based consciousness structure. It sees you as the writer or recorder, not the target.”

"If you want to get rid of it, you have to wait until it naturally runs out of spirituality."

"So..." An Jing pinched the bridge of her nose and asked in a dry tone, "No matter what, it will come back?"

"Yes." 002's tone was emotionless. "You have a very loyal tool. Congratulations."

An Jing: "Thank you so much. Really."

She hung up the phone and turned to look at the book.

The book page turned automatically, as if it were playfully teasing someone.

The quill pen floated up slowly, writing a line of scribbled characters in the air:
I will be good.

"..." An Jing finally understood the specific meaning of the phrase "rationality gone offline".

An Jing also politely picked up a pen and wrote a sentence.

Get the hell out of here.

She pressed the pen into the notebook, then tossed it into the storage box under the bed, closed the lid, and weighed it down with a book.

Wait five seconds, and when she turned around, the book was already neatly placed next to her pillow.

The pen spun in mid-air and wrote a new line of text:

[Keep up the good work today!]

An Jing: "..."

She pressed her temples, took a deep breath, forced herself to wipe the message from her eyes, then tossed the notebook into the bottom of her bag, gritting her teeth as she warned herself:
"Just bear with it for one more day."

The four of them only rested for a few days before the school called them to report for duty on time.

Because the Special Service Department had specifically requested a blockade, the information about the four people entering the mysterious magnetic field was kept strictly confidential, and no word of it leaked out of the school.

On the first day of school, the entire freshman group for the "Light Bearer" major was in complete chaos.

The group name is "Preparatory Class of the Lamp Bearers" (the only group this year).

The group chat was flooded with comments like, "Ahhh, so early today!", "Where are the classrooms for S1-S7 listed on the timetable?", and "Why do we have to get up at six o'clock for a morning run? Don't they treat us like human beings?"

It's safe to say that everyone is going crazy as soon as school starts.

An Jing looked at the timetable in her hand, her gaze heavy.

She suspected that the person who designed the course had some kind of fetish.

The class schedule is full every day, with only one "tentative self-study" break on Thursday afternoon from Monday to Friday, and a note that "make-up training will be arranged if needed".

And that's it, there's also a huge red letter:

During the first week of school, students who find the training intensity unacceptable and wish to change their major should submit their application by Wednesday.

Students in this major can transfer out without any additional conditions, but once they leave, they will never be admitted back.

When the counselor took attendance online for the first time, his tone was both kind and ruthless: "We, the people who guide the way, are professional and never force anyone to stay."

Please think it over carefully.

An Jing tossed her phone aside and lay down on the bed.

The next second, the notebook popped out of her bag with a thud, hitting her squarely on the forehead. She turned to a page...
Can you take me for a run?

"..."

The system felt its status was about to be affected and couldn't help but complain.

[What a persistent, shameless pest.]

"+1"

The next morning at six o'clock sharp, the assembly call sounded downstairs in the dormitory building.

"Last lap! Speed ​​up!" The instructor roared through the morning mist, his voice almost shaking the training ground.

An Jing felt as if her lungs had been boiled in a hot pot, and her whole body felt unsteady.

She gritted her teeth and ran between Xu Xiaoyi and Bai Tianjiao. Behind her, Xu Xiaoyi called out weakly, "Did I... see my great-grandmother?"

"Shut up!" An Jing roared. "Disturbing the emperor's mind is a capital offense!"

After the morning run, each person receives a bottle of energy drink, a quick 20-minute meal, and then a full day of classes.

The first section is a general introduction to the study of the mysterious.

Standing on the podium is 003, currently the second strongest among the lamplighters.

He was dressed in a neat uniform, and his expression was cold as he swept across the classroom. When his gaze landed on An Jing's row, he clearly paused for a second.

An Jing immediately straightened her back and sat like a pillar.

It seems the two don't know each other.

003 didn't say anything, but spoke in a cold voice: "Entering this major means that you have begun to come into contact with a concept we call the Mysterious Magnetic Field."

"This is neither an illusion nor superstition; it is an abnormal space that actually exists, a complex of death, erosion, and chaos."

“And you…” His gaze swept across the rows of faces, his eyes sharp as blades, “were the first to step in.”

All the students quieted down.

“We don’t train heroes, nor do we encourage sacrifice. We train living people, so that you can come back alive from the mysterious magnetic field and bring back the truth.” After 003 finished speaking, he turned on the projector and clicked on the first slide.

First line of text:

The government-employed job with the highest mortality rate: Lamplighter

After class that day, An Jing returned to her dormitory and collapsed onto her bed.

She had only closed her eyes for two seconds when that damned notebook gently jumped onto her chest again.

The pages turn.

I've written down today's content for you.

His attitude was so humble; even though it was just a notebook, An Jing seemed to see a little dog.

After a moment of silence, he finally sighed, stuffed it into his schoolbag, and thoughtfully smoothed out his pen.

"...Thank you."

The pen twirled in the air and then happily wrote:

I'll keep trying tomorrow!

She covered her face speechlessly.

The system was furious.

[You vixen! Shameless! Brothel-like! Anyone can do that, don't let it bewitch you!]

An Jing cautiously replied, "It's alright."

I even helped her copy notes.

【? You've changed! You're just like that tyrant, haha, I knew you were the kind of fickle person who would change your mind so easily. You're like a beautiful woman, but nothing compares to you; it was all a mistake!】

"Didn't you listen to me when I told you to watch less palace dramas? Next time, believe me, I won't take you with me."

[Heh, now you treat me like this because of its attitude, huh? I'm leaving!]

(End of this chapter)