The Thirteen Trials of the Deceptive Monk

"My apologies for my previous rudeness; I am somewhat famous. I am a legend of the Victorian era. I am the white shadow that moves through the night. I am the nightmare of London girls, the model of the English gentleman. I am, I am, I am, I am—"

He leaped down from the ceiling in an instant, his two slender legs disintegrating into white spiral structures that grew to a length of 2 meters!

"—Spring-Heeled Jack!"

Lu Wenjun said "Oh," recalling the street magazines he had read as a child.

This man, neither too famous nor too minor, was a figure of some renown, a Victorian urban legend. He was said to wear a white raincoat, breathe blue fire, and possess extraordinary jumping ability, capable of leaping over high walls, causing numerous terrifying attacks at the time. And then…

And that's it. This person has been causing trouble for years, repeatedly sighted, yet never caught, thus becoming an "urban legend." And from today's perspective...

"It seems like he's some kind of cross-dressing pervert," said Lü Wenjun.

Spring Leg froze instantly, his two red eyes trembling like flames: "You, you, what did you say?"

"In terms of setting, you really don't have anything outstanding. The mechanics aren't as good as modern ghost stories like 'The Red Shoes,' and the level of horror is clearly not as good as the werewolf-like creatures like 'Breton'." Lu Wenjun said, even he himself seemed confused. "Sorry, I really don't know what your special skills are. Why did I put you in charge of guarding the original texts?"

·

Above the train, Faris asked in a low voice, "They say it's Spring-Heeled Jack, but when was that incident again?"

Ling Gong, who was standing next to her, thought for a moment and said, "It should be the Victorian era in England, nearly 200 years ago..."

Their expressions changed simultaneously, and they exclaimed, "Oh no!"

·

Spring-Heeled Jack flailed his claws wildly, the tremor spreading from his eyes to his entire body.

"You—you—you actually say I'm inferior to...those things?"

He laughed hysterically, his laughter filled with anger.

"The Dancing Red Shoes only went from fairy tale to horror after the advent of cell phones, and the Beast of Braden was a superstition of American farmers in the last century. As for me, Spring-Heeled Jack, I've been around since 1837. When I debuted, Queen Victoria had just ascended the throne, and Britain wasn't yet the British Empire!"

He roared, “Even that infamous Ripper was just a little thing from 1888! I was 51 years older than him! Half a century! I watched it run away in the fog with my own eyes! How dare you say I’m inferior to those superstitious tales?”

"I am their ancestor!!!"

He wildly lashed out with his iron claws, smashing them into the carriage wall. All the windows in carriage number 8 shattered simultaneously, and the entire Flying Train shook violently from the impact!

Lu Wenjun stood amidst the shards of glass in the pouring rain, his mouth agape in an "O" shape.

He just made a very serious mistake because he lacked common sense about the underworld.

In the world of ultimate magic, history, like fame, is a crucial factor influencing the strength of original texts of the same level. A widely circulated story will receive more embellishments, evolving beyond its original framework to become its "prototype." A longer history means more opportunities for related creative works, which increases the depth of the prototype itself.

Spring-Heeled Jack already existed in 1837; he is not only a real historical figure but also a story from nearly two centuries ago. He has never been forgotten in those two centuries; he is a freak in cheap thrillers, a protagonist in science fiction, appears on stage, in movies, and makes cameo appearances in video games. Even today, people speculate and research his true identity. This accumulation is unparalleled by any contemporary ghost story.

He certainly lacks a cohesive mechanism and isn't terrifying enough. But he has history, and he's quite famous. This means…

It has numerical values!!

Spring Leg inhaled sharply and exhaled two streams of blue flame. The two streams of blue flame decomposed into walls of fire, blocking the window holes and the cold wind outside the car. He walked step by step toward Lü Wenjun, his iron claws scraping sparks against the car wall.

"You think I'm not scary enough?"

Lu Wenjun gave a polite smile.

The spring-like leg suddenly vanished, reappearing behind Lü Wenjun, moving with the speed of a white phantom. He spun around and unleashed a kick, the alien leg creating a circular shockwave as it struck. The moment the kick landed, Lü Wenjun vanished again, smashing through four carriages like a cannonball before crashing into the metal block of carriage number 12!

Spring Legs lifted the original text, his eyes blazing: "You little things, come out here!"

Black mist swirled between the pages of the original text, and the phantom spirits that had been defeated before began to emerge one after another. Swan-like beings, Chupacabra, UFOs, and even savages, Bigfoot, and Yetis that Lü Wenjun and the others had never seen before…

Numerous strange monsters awaited behind Spring Leg, listening to his furious command: "Search every seat, don't overlook the luggage racks. Let these ungrateful pigs know how terrifying we are!"

The monsters roared in response, splitting into two groups and heading towards either side of the train. So many monstrous creatures poured out, it was like a modern-day parade of a hundred demons!

·

Thank goodness they got those two onto the roof first... otherwise they'd have to leave now...

Lu Wenjun's vision blurred with stars, a series of thoughts racing through his mind, but this one popped into his head first. Then, a strong urge to vomit, mixed with pain, overwhelmed him; he felt as if his stomach and lungs were being squeezed together.

He forced himself to breathe, trying to stay conscious. His bones ached a little, but not enough to make him vomit blood; it was just a minor injury.

It really hurts. The last time it hurt this much was during my impact training... that was so long ago...

The metal block behind him patted him on the shoulder: "Hey, are you alright?"

"I'm alright, could you please put me down first? Your arm is hurting me a little..."

The iron block was actually a large hand covered in gray scales. Beneath its metallic surface were long, nail-like spikes, resembling the claws of a monster from a nightmare.

The owner of these hands was a full two meters tall and wore a deerskin hat. His skin above his forearms was free of scales, and his well-defined features, combined with his strong and powerful physique, made him resemble a stone statue of a hero from ancient Greece.

Lu Wenjun pounded his lower back, feeling extremely fortunate: "Thanks for your help, Versa. Your arm is quite stylish, is it a racial trait?"

There were only five freshmen still able to move in the car, and this muscular man was none other than Vilsa, who was ranked second. He patted his arm and proudly declared, "No, this is my cultivation technique, 'Heretic Claw.' You must be..."

He glanced at the rankings and said confidently, "It must be Mr. Ten'in-in Reiyuu."

Lu Wenjun nearly choked: "It's a ghost! I'm Lu Wenjun! Ling Gong is a woman! There are only two Eastern names in total, how could you guess wrong?"

“What did you say…?” Vilsa pondered. “But ‘bow’ sounds more like a man’s name than ‘literature.’ The divine bow that can conceal the sky with a single shot—it evokes images of powerful heroes like Hercules or Arash.”

"I will relay your words to Reiko verbatim."

"Please don't do that. Turn around and let me check your spine."

Versa tapped on his spinal joints. His movements were practiced, as if he had a deep understanding of human anatomy.

“You’ll need some ointment. I’ll get it for you after the test,” he said. “You’re not badly injured after taking that blow; you’re quite physically strong.”

“I’ve done some targeted training before.” Lü Wenjun slowly stretched his limbs, unable to stand up for a moment. “Here’s the thing. A few of us originally planned to challenge Huanling, but that son of a bitch is quite capable. Mind lending a hand?”

The two looked up simultaneously and saw that the carriage door was filled with terrifying faces. The phantoms' pursuers had arrived, and the first to leap out was an ape-like monster, which raised its giant claw and slammed it down!

"I don't mind. I enjoy competing with others."

Velsa raised his arm to block, but the sharp monkey claws struck his scales without even leaving a scratch.

He strode forward and threw a punch, smashing the monkey monster into flying fragments!

His forte is the Art of Transformation, a type of magic that acts upon oneself. It can change one's form, enhance one's physique, and imbue oneself with the power of the original scriptures!

Chapter 9 Divine Essence Transformation

Vilsa clenched his fist and strode forward. He stood like a thick wall at the entrance of carriage 12, leaving only enough space for one person in front of him.

He used this to restrict the movement of the phantoms. Ordinary phantoms couldn't destroy the carriages, so no matter how many there were, they could only squeeze in one by one. The dwarves were the first to leap to higher ground and fire crossbow bolts at each other. The agile Chupacabra charged forward amidst the rain of arrows and bit at Vilsa's neck.

Vilsa raised his iron palm, using it as a mobile shield to block the crossbow bolt. He delivered a precise strike, knocking the Chupacabra down; the beast's face was instantly flattened in half. He stopped punching, instead stomping on the phantom's spine. A new enemy had arrived—a hairy Bigfoot.

He pulled his fist to his waist, lowered his center of gravity, and struck with all his might as the Bigfoot squeezed through the threshold. His steel fist slammed deep into the hairy creature's abdomen, punching the phantom right through it!

"You're incredibly strong, classmate!" Lü Wenjun's eyes lit up.

He had experience in resistance training and could distinguish the severity of a punch. While the spring-loaded leg kick was powerful, its force was relatively dispersed; it possessed strength but lacked technique, so taking one or two hits wouldn't cause much harm. But he would never dare to take a direct hit from Vilsa's fist; it was a technique for fighting wild beasts, where power was concentrated to its extreme, and a single blow would either kill or severely injure.

The fact that they could deliver such a punch meant that Versa's wrist strength and fighting skills were superior to that of the phantom. They had a chance of winning.

"I am a descendant of giants, born with a strong physique." Vilsa suddenly crossed his arms. "That phantom is very fast?"

"Very...fast!"

The moment the first word left their lips, they heard a strange laugh sweep over them. The white phantom, accompanied by the laughter, slammed wildly against the roof and walls of the car, bouncing and veering in unpredictable trajectories. Before the word "fast" could even be uttered, it had already leaped in front of Versa, its kicks sounding like cold, sharp whips!

Vilsa's massive body staggered backward, barely managing to regain his footing in the middle of the carriage, his heels leaving two charred marks on the stone floor. He spread his arms to retaliate, only to find that the white figure had vanished from sight.

"Left!" Lü Wenjun shouted.

Yes, he was already to the left rear. Spring-legged, crouching in a blind spot, his pale face puffed out, a cunning smile on his lips. Vielsa barely had time to raise his arm to defend before a fireball the size of a bushel crashed down upon him!

The force of the explosion slammed him against the car wall, charring the skin outside the heretic's claws. Spring-Legs grinned maliciously and raised his iron claws, but Versa was physically strong and still had the strength to spare even after being hit by the fireball.

He shouted and slapped Spring Leg's head with both arms, but Spring Leg bent his knees and jumped up to the ceiling.

"It's pointless, kid," it mocked. "If you can't hit it, it's pointless!"

It leaped in front of Velsa again, standing there with its paws behind its back, a defiant look on its face. Velsa threw three punches, but the spring-like leg only wobbled comically, like a withered branch hiding in the wind of the punches.

He's too fast. Vilsa can't hit him at all!

Lu Wenjun wanted to help, but the pain in his back made it difficult for him to move. In a moment of inspiration, he imitated a British accent from a movie: "Hey! You cursed pig! You laughable idiot! You're such a vulgar joke, even the newsboys on the Thames wouldn't be afraid of you!"

Spring-legged movement abruptly stopped, his eyes blazing with anger: "What did you say...?"

“We’re afraid of monsters, we’re afraid of ghosts, but no one’s afraid of a piece of trash who just rolls around on the ground!” Lu Wenjun barely managed to stand up, loudly provoking, “If you’re truly a gentleman, fight like a man, fair and square. But I know you don’t dare. You can’t withstand even the gentlest blow from this upright gentleman. So just run away, I’ll laugh at your stupidity even in hell!”

"How dare you slander me like this?! You filthy, rotten bastard!" Spring Leg screamed. "Come on! I'll stand right here and not move an inch, and punch you with those weak, chicken-like fists! I'll show you what real fear is!"

He faced Vilsa directly, his iron claws pounding furiously against his chest. Seeing this, Vilsa mustered all his strength, his steel-like fists striking the spring-legged man squarely in the chest, creating a perfectly round hole!

"Good!" the two shouted excitedly at the same time.

Spring Leg stood frozen in place, while the original text it had swallowed floated in the center of the large hole. Velsa grabbed at it, trying to close the original text.

However, thick black smoke instantly billowed from between the pages, solidifying into flesh and blood to fill the wound. In the blink of an eye, Spring Leg's injury was completely healed. It was unharmed and unscathed, and then unleashed another fireball at Velsa.

It turned in the firelight and stared at Lü Wenjun. Its scarlet eyes were like two frozen flames.

“I did,” it said very slowly.

"I will show you what real fear is."

Lu Wenjun gritted his teeth; he had indeed been too optimistic.

This piece of junk even has super-fast regeneration. Just as Pershka said, the reality is that this test is unwinnable!

·

"Theoretically speaking, I mean, based on objective and rational calculations, there is actually a slight possibility of victory in this test..." Mingxiao stammered.

In the train's driver's cab, Professor Ji Chuanjun's gaze was as cold as if he were scrutinizing a war criminal. Mingxiao's eyes darted around, and even his rabbit ears drooped listlessly.

"If, and I mean if, the strongest among the new students could work together, cooperate effectively, and make good use of the battlefield environment, or if one of the young ladies could use her divine power, then there's a possibility that Spring Legs could be defeated..."

Ji Chuanjun said calmly, "As I understand it, you want several students who have just entered an unfamiliar environment and have different backgrounds, races, and beliefs to work together with all their strength within 30 minutes without any common interests?"

Mingxiao immediately raised his hands in surrender: "I was wrong, Professor Ji! I heard you say that we should try to recreate the real combat environment as much as possible..."

“You not only provided Spring-Heeled Jack with ample magic power, but also gave him regenerative abilities using the Primal Codex.” Ji Chuanjun nodded repeatedly. “I must point out that such a comprehensive enhancement is extremely rare in a regular Primal Codex berserk state. What you simulated was not ‘Primal Codex berserk,’ but rather ‘an extraterrestrial god using the Primal Codex to carry out a terrorist attack.’”

"I...I really didn't expect this original text to be so substantial and the illusions so refined." Mingxiao cried, "Teacher, should I adjust the difficulty level now?"

“I think this is extremely unfair to Miss Pershka. And…”

Mingxiao followed her gaze and found that Ji Chuanjun was looking at the surveillance camera on the top of the train.

"It's not entirely impossible."

·

"Faris, can you run any faster!" Linggong shouted. "If you don't hurry, we'll be too late!"

Faris retorted, "As a useless soon-to-be college student, I've already tried my best! It's strange that you, a fox demon, have such good physical abilities!"

They both heard the loud bang and Spring Legs' maniacal laughter. Ling Gong deduced from the direction of the commotion that the battlefield was in carriage 12, so the two of them ran frantically across the roof of the Flying Train, as desperately as secret agents trying to stop a nuclear explosion.

Ling Gong jumped to the rear of carriage number 12 and pressed her fox ears to the roof to listen. Faris almost lost his footing when he jumped over; he felt the carriage was completely unbalanced.

"Please move forward a little more," Linggong instructed. "Can you see the second-to-last window on your right?"

Faris risked glancing to the side: "Sure! Lu Wenjun's head is right there!"

Ling Gong sculpted a little fox: "Okay, I'll open it when I say so."

"No, that thing is so fast, how could you possibly..." Faris glanced back, "Oh my god! You're kidding me, right?!"

"Countdown." Ling Gong let the little fox float away with the wind. "5, 4..."

·

"Let's play 3, 2, 1," Spring Legs said, rubbing his claws together. "You count down from 3... then guess how many pieces you'll break into, okay?"

Lu Wenjun retreated step by step, moving closer to the nearest window. He had barely recovered from the pain, but Velsa was unable to get up after being blasted by the fireball. Without his barrier, the phantoms poured into the carriage one after another, leaving them nowhere to escape.

Lu Wenjun's head hit the windowpane, and he knew he had nowhere to retreat. The vibrations of the car walls mingled with the sound of his own heartbeat, and he smiled at Spring Leg.

"I don't think I'll die."

“Oh, of course you won’t die, this is a ‘test’! Just a foolish little wizard playing a trick on our story.” Spring-Legs looked down at him. “But what do you think ‘fear’ is? Is it only death, only pain that can cause fear?”

"Let me tell you. You've finished work and are walking home, ready to end this mundane day with a glass of hot milk. But suddenly you see it—you see a white shadow over the high wall. You see its pale face, its scarlet eyes, like two bleeding, bright red hearts. It comes up to you, smiles at you, and then it's gone… The story ends…"