The Thirteen Trials of the Deceptive Monk

7:00, Duel Arena. Section 5, One of the Yokai Lectures.

"Cheer up, kids. You've only had one day of classes, but you look like you've just come from a battlefield."

Professor Ten'in-in Reika was a stunningly beautiful woman with black hair. She lay lazily in the audience, and even many girls felt their hearts skip a beat when she blinked. However, even the boys had no time for fantasies, because their hair was blackened, their bodies were covered in ash, and their hairstyles mostly resembled broccoli.

Many people's eyes lost focus, like a group of salted fish who had lost their dreams.

"Our course covers yokai from all over the world. Most of the magic you can learn from yokai is the 'Conception Technique,' which I call 'Self-Dream.'" Teacher Ten'in said spiritedly. "The Conception Technique is magic that changes yourself! What do you want to become? What abilities do you want to possess? To become taller, more handsome, more beautiful, or to transform into a yokai and walk the demonic path?"

"Your future is in your own hands. I recommend that each student learn at least one cultivation technique, as this will be very helpful in understanding yourself..."

Pershka's voice was hoarse: "Do you think Professor Ten'in is a theorist or a practitioner?"

By this time, even the witch couldn't escape her fate. Her hair was dry and brittle, her face deathly pale, and her once beautiful dress now looked like a rag. At the end of the last class, someone had unintentionally attracted a heartbroken water spirit, and the freshmen had the opportunity to experience the power of the elements.

"Gurgle, gurgle, gurgle," said Lü Wenjun.

When he opened his mouth, a string of colorful bubbles appeared in his throat. Pershka had to pop the bubbles one by one in order to hear the other person's voice.

“I hope she’s a theorist,” he said. “I hope so.”

His hope actually came true. During the first half of the class, Teacher Ten'in was actually giving a serious lesson without any surprises. He simply introduced the common styles of yokai from various cultural circles.

During the break, Versa said sincerely to Reiko, "Your relative is a really kind person."

"Why haven't you written your wills yet?" Ling Gong asked, shaking her greenish, jelly-like arm.

"what?"

"I saw her take out a book."

The new students turned around stiffly and saw the beautiful and kind-hearted teacher from the Heavenly Hidden Academy flapping her large black wings and flying over, holding a scroll shrouded in black mist in her hand.

"Now that everyone has a basic understanding of yokai, we'll try to exorcise them in the second half of the class," Teacher Ten'in said cheerfully. "Today's first lesson will be an eye-opener for everyone. This is my treasured legendary original manuscript, the 'Hyakki Yagyō Emaki'!"

The scroll unfurled with a thud, and all sorts of demons and monsters roared out, filling the dueling arena to the brim in the blink of an eye.

Without saying a word, Lü Wenjun activated his spring-loaded leg transformation and turned to run.

"You disloyal bastard, stop right there! Where are you going?!"

"I suddenly feel a bit unwell in my stomach, so I'll be asking for leave from this class!!!"

"Don't even think about escaping!" Pershka shouted. "Stop him, Beast Witch!"

Three beast witches grabbed Lü Wenjun around the waist with the speed of rugby players, while the gloating screams of the others echoed from the monster horde.

"Well done!" "Don't let that genius get away!" "Let's all die together!"

Lu Wenjun lay on the ground, seeing the horde of monsters rushing towards him, and could only cover his face and wail, "Spare me! I don't want to learn this magic anymore, okay?! I don't want to learn it—!"

Chapter 15 The Cowboy Isn't Too Busy (Thanks to the Silver Alliance Earthbound Spirit for two chapters today)

The next day at noon, in the cafeteria.

Before eating, Lü Wenjun glanced at his notebook. The first page contained a summary of yesterday's class:

[Transformation: Changing one's own spell (Spring Legs, Vilsa's Hands)]

Assimilation: A technique that influences others (Fox Spirit).

Manifestation: Spells that act on the external world (Demon Key, Pershka's Beast Witch may fall into this category).

Each character has three spell slots (increasing to four upon leveling up), and can switch between them after learning a spell.

There was really no need to review this much material; he just genuinely didn't have an appetite for food, so he was just looking at something to pass the time. His friends at the table didn't look too good either; their eyes had mostly lost their sparkle.

“I’ve figured out their true nature,” Faris murmured.

Lu Wenjun handed over a glass of homemade lemonade, and Faris held the glass absentmindedly.

“Ji Chuanjun will kill you outright,” he said. “Welton will kill you while laughing. Tianyin Academy will make you write your will before killing you. And Merdin…”

“Merding will curse you to die,” Lu Wenjun added.

“Yes,” Faris said. “And Tullijman is the best teacher: he doesn’t kill. From this we can see what a great subject history is; it teaches people not to kill needlessly.”

"Looking at it positively, this teaching method is indeed extremely efficient," said Lü Wenjun. "After only a day and a half of school, I've already memorized the recipes for seven deadly poisons, 23 material combinations that can trigger rapid explosions, and 14 common ways for mages to die. At this rate, I'm confident I can survive even if a world war breaks out in the secret realm after graduation."

"Perhaps you will be the one to trigger a world war in the secret realm."

"It's not impossible."

Ling Gong looked dazed: "Is it still useful to persuade the teachers to study Buddhism now?"

"Can they put down their knives?" Lü Wenjun took a big bite of his sandwich. "I'm afraid it'll be difficult. I'm not talking about their subjective will. Once those knives fall, I don't know if hell can withstand it."

Lu Wenjun's main dish was a homemade egg and pork chop sandwich. His plate was empty, with only a pile of free side dishes in the corner.

Linggong's face clearly showed her incomprehension: "I think the food in the school cafeteria is pretty good..."

“It’s nutritious, delicious, and inexpensive,” Lu Wenjun said. “But lunch at the cafeteria costs about 10 magic coins, which is enough for me to buy enough ingredients for three meals a day at a roadside shop. I plan to use the 1000 magic coins in my jade pendant to last as long as possible. Don’t ask me why.”

I really don't want to tell everyone that I don't have a single penny in my pocket.

I don't really want to discuss why external currencies are completely useless in the inner world.

Faris nodded repeatedly, burying his head in his roasted lamb: "Let's not talk about that, let's talk about something good. You slept in the dorm last night, right? How was that awful place?"

Lu Wenjun was quite puzzled: "I slept there for one night and the environment felt quite luxurious. I can't see a reason why I shouldn't stay."

"Damn, you're really that careless?" Faris said. "My extensive experience with horror movies tells me that a cheap, luxurious house that's never lived in must be haunted."

“You may have already been possessed…” Ling Gong said quietly.

Lu Wenjun had to admit there was some truth to that statement, but he still decided to argue: "May I ask how much your rental apartments cost per month?"

Faris immediately felt a pang of jealousy: "Do we really need to hurt each other like this?"

"Sigh." "Sigh..."

The dining table was desolate, and the cries of newborns could be heard not far away.

There weren't many freshmen, and there was no major selection for the first year, but the school still divided them into different classes and gave them staggered schedules. After a day of classes, everyone understood the good intentions behind this arrangement: someone had to be off-duty to comfort their friends. If everyone had to attend the same classes and suffer the same hardships every day, this place would probably have to be renamed Trista, the Great Madhouse.

Reiko tried to change the subject: "Speaking of which, what's wrong with Versa? She's been completely silent the whole time."

Vilsa ate his mutton pilaf mechanically, his face as black as the burnt bottom of the pot.

"My first class this afternoon is Spirituality, taught by Professor Ji."

"What does spiritualism talk about?" Faris asked.

"ghost."

The three of them gasped in shock. Lü Wenjun said solemnly, "You will become a Buddha."

"Let's think of a way to become ghosts first," Faris suggested. "That way we might suffer less damage."

“I never imagined studying would be so difficult…” Virsa sighed. “Do you have classes this afternoon?”

"A required course for the first semester: Unraveling Ghost Stories," Lü Wenjun glanced at the timetable and added, "The words are blood red."

"They'll probably give us a train battle that's ten times more difficult," Ling Gong said listlessly.

“That sounds amazing,” Faris said. “Seriously, I can’t wait to be sucked into a hut full of lizardmen by a UFO and then devoured by sewer crocodiles.”

·

The classroom for the Mystery Unraveling class is on the 123rd floor of the teaching building, but the building only appears to have seven floors. To reach the classroom, you need to go to the rooftop garden, find the little goblin on duty in a corner, and give him a candy ball. After the goblins have their fill, they will knock on a special brick that randomly moves on the flower bed, thus opening a secret passage and magic rope leading to floors over a hundred.

Using the remaining lemon juice as a substitute for the candy balls, Lü Wenjun arrived at the classroom five minutes early. When the minute hand pointed to 1:30, the podium was still empty, and the room full of freshmen were staring blankly at the blackboard.

"...The teacher is late?" Ling Gong asked incredulously.

“These things happen from time to time.” Lü Wenjun glanced at the textbook. “From this, you can roughly guess the personality of this lecturer, Pex Beale.”

The textbook was "100 Examples of Strange Tales and Ghost Stories," by Pex Beale. He had seen the name more than once recently; to be precise, he had read about the man before even starting school.

Ling Gong muttered, "I remember Pex Bill was... a famous cowboy in modern American legends, right?"

Just then, a loud horn blared outside the classroom, and a brown rabbit, blowing a small trumpet, entered. It wore square-framed glasses, a gentleman's bow tie, and stood tall and proud, exuding an air of extraordinary elegance.

"Ladies and gentlemen," the rabbit said solemnly, "let us welcome the tornado catcher, the tamer of all the wild beasts of the West, the inventor of the revolver, the greatest cowboy in the world, Pex Bill!"

It blew three exaggerated high notes in a row through a trumpet, then scattered a handful of small ribbons. A disheveled man then walked over. He was wearing a casual suit, the collar unbuttoned, and his tie crooked.

The man walked up to the podium, threw a large travel bag on the ground, and then flicked out a cigarette. About half a second before lighting it, he finally remembered he was in the classroom.

"Hmm." He put away his lighter and mumbled indistinctly, "First of all—who won my book?"

Lü Wenjun stood up: "It's me, teacher."

He last saw the name on a train. Pex Beale is the author of the original urban legend.

Bill looked down at him, flicking the cigarette in his mouth: "Let me see."

"Excuse me……"

"A spell!" he said impatiently. "I've heard about it all. What spell did you figure out?"

The tone made everyone feel uneasy. It seemed the top student in the grade was about to be targeted. Lu Wenjun simply nodded, then looked up, activating his spring-like leg transformation. He raised his blue eyes.

"The Art of Transformation".

Bill glanced around and nodded slightly. He casually tossed his cigarette aside and pointed at Lü Wenjun with both hands.

“Very good. Fantastic!” he said.

Lu Wenjun was taken aback: "Huh?"

“Cool design, way better than that comical Jack. You like tokusatsu, right? Transformers? Don’t deny it, I can see your inspiration!” Bill’s speech quickened. “But at its core, it’s about practicality. No capes that are useless in combat, no need for a cane, you abandoned the intuitive spring structure and chose an abstract symbol instead, which is much more flexible than two springs as legs. It’s all about craftsmanship and details. A good wizard is always full of clever ideas!”

He gestured for Lü Wenjun to sit down: "Listen to me, children. Many people think that magicians are just bookworms who help others learn by doing, turning what they read in books into spells and stuffing them into their brains. This is a huge misunderstanding, because the original texts only provide the material."

"It is your thoughts, your desires, your imagination that give birth to magic. Even the same story can be interpreted very differently by different people—want to see my spring-leg spell?"

The students all nodded. Bill exclaimed, "Oh! You in the last row, open that cabinet for me!"

In the corner of the classroom was a metal cabinet. Faris ran over, opened the cabinet door, and cried out in surprise. A wooden horse, as tall as two people, jumped out of the small cabinet.

“Let me think about what I did… Oh right…” Bill snapped his fingers, “Transform!”

The wooden horse transformed into a tin donkey, its four legs becoming springs, and its hooves turning into boxing gloves.

The spring-loaded boxing donkey hopped and skipped across the classroom like a zombie, eliciting bursts of laughter.

“As you can see, this is a manifestation spell—let’s call it the Spring-Skimmed Iron Donkey,” Bill laughed. “Obviously, I wanted a mount that could leap into the sky. And what else can you see? Don’t be afraid to say something wrong, don’t raise your hand, just say whatever comes to mind.”

The Gorgon Ariel whispered, "...A Trojan horse?"

The donkey had sharp features and looked quite similar to the famous wooden horse illustration.

“Great. I happened to be reading Homer’s epics at the time. Anything else?”

“I guess you like pranks,” Lu Wenjun said. “That boxing glove is the kind you often find in a scare kit.”

Bill pulled a box out of his bag, and a spring-loaded fist popped out of it, startling the students in the row in front of him and causing them to burst into laughter.

“You got it right. My old friends always say I’m still a child at heart.” He laughed heartily. “I’ll give you another 10 minutes, and you’ll probably discover 100 more facts about Pex Beale, but please leave me some privacy.”

"Let's get back to the main point. Excellent magic construction always has rich personal characteristics. To achieve this, you need both sufficient knowledge accumulation and the right materials to use. For novice magicians, the most suitable starting point and the easiest way to cultivate good habits is through ghost stories and urban legends."

He plopped down on the podium and crossed his legs.

"Let's give a few examples. You've all heard of the great hero Hercules. Now I'd like to ask, where did he come from?"

Without hesitation, Ling Gong replied, "He is the son of the great god Zeus—"

"Okay, next question. Does anyone know the amazing Monkey King Sun Wukong from the East? Where did he come from?"

Brother Red Ghost raised his hand: "It popped out from that crack in the rock."

“You all know perfectly well, don’t you?” Bill waved his cigarette like chalk. “Now, the third question. Where did the Eight-Foot Man come from?”

"Please note, this is not a standard test-taking answer like 'discussion threads from the early 2000s 2CH forum.' My question is, in the story, where did the Eight-Foot Man come from?"

Everyone opened their mouths to speak, but found themselves speechless. Bill smiled smugly.

"You've noticed, haven't you? Those myths and legends, even if the descriptions are vague, always have their origins and details. But for ghost stories, UMAs, and urban legends, origins and details aren't that important."

At the beginning of the century, someone conceived of a ghost story about making a phone call, thus Miss Mary came to be. New Yorkers, fascinated by the world beneath manhole covers, gave birth to the story of the sewer alligator. These images spread through discussion and sharing, and some of the most interesting memes were preserved. They transformed from 'rumors' into 'ghost stories,' much like how ancient people created monsters.

Now, thanks to this information explosion, writing original texts is much easier than before. You can use urban legends to create magic—material with a prominent figure but lacking substantial content. What does this mean?

Lü Wenjun was the first to figure it out: "There is a lot of room for individual expression."