Marvel's Shendu: Dominating the Multiverse

Chapter 163 Normal Students

Parker sat on the sofa, his mind racing for several seconds before he finally realized what was happening. He jumped up to open the door, but the hallway was empty. He peered out the window; people were coming and going on the street, but the person's figure was nowhere to be seen.

Parker grabbed his hair and squatted down.

The next day, at 7:30 in the morning.

Zhongcheng Science and Technology High School, first floor of the administration building, academic affairs office.

Ms. Warren arrived ten minutes earlier than usual today. She's Parker's homeroom teacher, teaches chemistry, is forty-three, divorced, and owns two dogs. This information was useless to the Holy Lord, but the Mind Stone automatically captures surface memories when it comes into contact with a person's consciousness. He didn't deliberately look for them; they surfaced on their own.

Ms. Warren was making coffee. The coffee machine was shared in the office, and the filter hadn't been changed in three months, so the coffee came out grayish. As she turned around with her cup, she saw someone standing in the doorway.

Young, tall, wearing a gray hoodie and jeans.

"Students are not allowed in the administration office," Ms. Warren said, adding that the boy's face looked unfamiliar.

The Holy Lord ignored her and walked straight in.

The Mind Stone's energy was released without visual effect, light, or sound. It wasn't a physical intervention, but a copying of consciousness. The Stone's power connected to Ms. Warren's neural network in a fraction of a second; her pupils briefly lost focus before returning to normal.

"He's a new transfer student." Ms. Warren sat back down at her desk and began working on the computer. Her fingers typed smoothly, without any signs of manipulation.

The student registration system page opens. Add a new student.

In the name field, Ms. Warren's finger paused for a moment.

"Name?" she asked.

"Lu Chen".

Ms. Warren finished typing. She filled in the fields quickly: date of birth, home address, previous school, reason for transfer. The Mind Gem had given her a complete set of fabricated information, and her consciousness automatically treated it as a real archive, even believing that she had already processed the transfer application yesterday afternoon and was just completing the final formalities today.

"Your class is 308." Ms. Warren handed over a printed timetable. "First period is 8:15, American History, the classroom is at the end of the east corridor on the third floor."

The Lord took the timetable and glanced at it. He already knew Parker's schedule, but having a paper copy saved him the trouble of explaining it.

"Do you need me to take you to the classroom?"

"Need not."

The Holy Lord turned and left the office. Ms. Warren took a sip of her grey coffee and continued with her other work. Three minutes later, she couldn't remember the newborn's face anymore, only a file number and a name. The overwriting of the Mind Stone doesn't change a person's behavior patterns; it only replaces specific memory nodes, so external observers won't notice anything unusual.

In the corridor. At 7:45 a.m., students began to enter one after another.

The Holy Lord mingled in the crowd. His hoodie wasn't pulled up; there was no need. He had made very subtle adjustments to his appearance—a small trick with the Reality Stone—keeping his facial features unchanged but making him appear younger. From a distance, he looked like an ordinary seventeen or eighteen-year-old boy, and even up close, there was nothing wrong with him.

Third floor. East corridor. Classroom 308.

The door was open, and there were already more than a dozen people sitting inside. When the Holy Lord pushed the door open and entered, a few students looked up at him, then lowered their heads and continued with their own tasks. Freshmen were not uncommon in a public high school of this size; there were transfers every semester in New York.

Parker is not here.

The Lord chose a seat by the window. Third row, the left-hand column. The view was good; he could see the classroom door and the blackboard, and the window on his left faced the playground—a view Parker could see if he entered the school through the main gate.

At 8:05, more students began to enter.

A chubby boy walked over, looked at the seat where the Holy Lord was sitting, and hesitated for a moment.

"Um—are you new here?"

'

"Yes."

"Oh. That seat was mine last semester." The chubby boy said this with a somewhat unconvincing tone, because there was a summer break between last semester and this semester, so the seat was never officially assigned.

The Holy Lord glanced at him.

The chubby boy changed his mind: "It's okay, it's okay, I can sit in the back." He picked up his backpack and went around to the back row.

8:11. Parker appeared at the classroom door.

The boy didn't look well; he had dark circles under his eyes, probably because he hadn't slept much last night. When he came in, he was carrying his backpack strap in his left hand, rubbing his eyes with his right, and walking towards his usual seat as if it were on autopilot.

He took three steps and then stopped.

Spider-Sense.

It wasn't a jarring warning, but there was a very clear signal at the back of his head. Parker's body stiffened for a moment, his eyes quickly scanning the classroom: front row, middle row, back row, left column, right column.

Then he saw the Holy Lord.

The Holy Lord raised his chin slightly at him as a greeting.

Parker's expression shifted rapidly: shock, denial, confusion, fear, finally settling into a resigned blankness. He mechanically walked to his seat and sat down. His seat was in the row to the right of the Lord, one seat in front of him. After sitting down, Parker turned his head, his lips moving slightly.

"you----"

"Class is starting," the Holy Lord said calmly.

The American history teacher walked in, a middle-aged man with thinning hair, named Harrington. He put down his lesson plan, glanced at the classroom, and his gaze lingered on the face of the Holy Lord for less than a second.

"We have a new student in our class." Harrington flipped through the paper in his hand. "Lu Chen, right? Where did you transfer from?"

California.

"Welcome to New York. Okay, turn to Chapter Seven, the Economic Structure of the Colonial Period."

Parker barely paid attention throughout the entire lesson. Every three or four minutes, he would glance to his left and behind him. The Holy Lord was reading a book, or rather, pretending to read a book, in a relaxed posture, no different from other daydreaming high school students.

The bell rang, signaling the end of the first class.

Parker sprang up from his chair and turned toward the Lord.

"What the hell are you doing?" The voice was so low that only the two of them could hear it.

"go to school."

"You—you can't possibly be a high school student. You showed up at my house yesterday, you know everything about me, you know the chemical formula for spider silk inside and out, and now you're sitting in my classroom telling me you're here to study?"

The Holy Lord put away his textbook. "You didn't sleep well last night."

"Of course I didn't sleep well!" Parker almost forgot to lower his voice. He glanced around to make sure no one was watching, then lowered his voice again. "A random guy barged into my house, said a bunch of scary things, and then told me I'd see him at school the next day. Who could sleep in that situation?"

"Your chemistry class is in the third period, right?"

Don't change the subject.

"I'm not changing the subject. Your spider silk formula needs to be modified. I've listed a few alternatives. The third period is relatively free, so I'll show them to you then."

Parker's mouth opened and closed. He wanted to explode, but the words "alternative to the spider silk formula" extinguished 30% of his anger from within. He really did need to change the formula. Last week, that spider silk almost snapped when he was swinging over Seventh Avenue; he might not have died from the fall, but it would certainly have hurt.

"You can't do this," Parker said, his tone softening.

"What?"

"So, they suddenly appeared in my life, without explaining anything, and acted as if everything was normal."

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