18 Years Old, and a Teacher! “Someone Is Hunting Me Down”

Bang! Bang, bang! “Major Luo? Are you in?” This time it was the leader of the Oversight Team who called out. With a click, the secretary opened the door. The Major was waiting at the threshold. A strange sheen of sweat beaded his forehead as, without the slightest change of expression, he swept his eyes over the crowd outside. The corridor beyond was packed with a dense, dark mass of people. As expected—every key member of the Oversight Team was there, not one missing. —They had not come to do him any favors. “It’s so late. What brings you all here…?” Knowing full well, the Major let a hint of puzzlement onto his face. “I knew Major Luo wouldn’t be asleep yet.” With a hearty laugh, the leader of the Oversight Team nodded affably at the Major. “You’re remarkably efficient. While the rest of us were resting, you were still busy hunting down a wanted criminal.” “It’s only…” “You seem to have botched it again.” The leader’s voice was gentle. But the colonel’s insignia on his uniform shoulder, and the substance of his words, carried a pressure that left the secretary beside them struggling for breath. “I think we need to talk.” As he said this, the leader glanced at the office behind the Major, his look laden with meaning. “We came here to help you, yet you always seem to keep us at arm’s length.” “If you could settle matters on your own, I wouldn’t have come all this way on assignment. You may not know it, but today is my wife’s birthday.” “My father-in-law, Vice Minister Liu, was asking me today whether I should take a day’s leave and go home. I declined, on account of work.” He shook his head faintly at the Major. “So what I mean is…” “You need our help.” He said it earnestly: “If you keep going it alone like this, I very much fear something of the sort will happen again.” “And when it does, it won’t just be Branch 36—all of us here will be held accountable.” “—So I really must rein you in, Major Luo.” “…” The Major gave a strained chuckle. “You’re right…” “There are too many people here, and there’s no room in my office. Let’s go to the conference room and talk.” With that, the Major strolled out of the office as though nothing were amiss and pulled the door shut behind him. The office was built entirely of the same materials as the Black Chamber, capable of completely blocking detection from outside. And rituals covered every surface. As long as no one set foot inside, even if the Major threw a party in there every day, the people standing outside would never notice a thing. The Major’s first priority was to keep these people from seeing the Fine Arts Society killer and the Black Warriors. Otherwise, the Oversight Team would likely move against him on the spot. And then no one would care about Bai Zhou or anyone else—frigid Branch 36 would become the warm medal of merit on their chests. Even the least formidable of the Fine Arts Society’s killers was an unregistered wanted criminal whose name sat on the official lists. Click… With a heavy thud of the latch, the office door was shut tight. Inside the office’s hidden passage, the female Painter leaning on her cane let out a breath of relief. But a moment later she shuddered. All around her, packed close, were crimson eyes, and the breathing of beasts echoed at her ears. Black Warriors hung like bats throughout the passage, their gazes so cold they made her blood run chill. Being cooped up with these monsters made the Painter’s brow knit tight. …Now just how was she supposed to get out of this hellish place? … That night, the Major’s consultation with the Oversight Team came to a smooth and successful close. Because the Major agreed to everything the Oversight Team asked, and showed an excellent attitude of contrition. He reflected on his error of overestimating his own abilities, agreed to share intelligence, and declared that if the branch undertook any further operation, it would advance and retreat in step with the Oversight Team. The mood of the discussion was genial. But once the Oversight Team had left and returned to their quarters, cluttered with signal-jamming devices, the deputy leader, a towering man with coarse features, immediately began to curse: “Obstinate to the core! All empty courtesies!” “Convinced he can solve the problem alone, pitting the local branch against headquarters—textbook adversarial thinking. In my view, that Major ought to be invited in for tea on charges of dereliction of duty!” Hearing this, the sharp-eyed leader merely shook his head. “It’s not hard to understand. Even at headquarters I’ve long heard of this Major Luo—always pushing forward, his ambitions higher than the sky.” “I’ve picked up a few rumors. In this year’s review, this major with his outstanding record may well be promoted into headquarters.” “And at this critical juncture, right before he moves up, this had to happen—” The leader chuckled, his implication plain. “So whether the problem is solved by us or by him makes all the difference in what it means.” “His entire future may or may not still be salvageable.” “His future?” The deputy’s eyes bulged like an ox’s, and he gave a cold snort. “What’s a future worth? If that Bai Zhou is left running loose out there, who’s going to answer for the danger to Tinghai and the public?” “It’s not that simple…” The leader shook his head again, swept a meaningful gaze over the team’s key members, and said softly: “Don’t you think this Major—with his formidable background, a man who can’t be provoked lightly—seems to be hiding something?” “Branch 36. The waters here may run deeper than we think.” “Even we… must tread carefully.” The deputy frowned, not understanding. Lowering his voice, he asked: “What do you mean?” The leader mused, turned, and looked out the window at the clock tower at the center of the base. “A day or two, we won’t be leaving.” “For now, we watch. We observe, and we’re patient.” “Isn’t there a saying?” He looked back at the others, a smile curving at the corner of his mouth, and made a soft whoosh: “—Let the bullets fly for a while!” … Whether the bullets flew was of no concern to the Gem Witch, and she had no interest in the scheming of these bureaucrats. She knew only that while eating, drinking, and amusing herself here was all very nice… If things went on this way, she would never catch the wanted criminal Bai Zhou or collect the enormous bounty. —Did they have any idea how much that was? The official bounty, the Major’s bounty on the black market, and the Zijing Group’s bounty. Three bounties stacked together came to several million in federal currency alone! More than she could spend in a lifetime! Arms folded, leaning against the wall in the corner, coldly watching the Oversight Team’s people talk, the Gem Witch made up her mind. The Major was useless, and the Oversight Team dragged their feet—clearly, she had to go into the field herself! —The Gem Witch, striking out for justice! Once she took action, a mere bomber like Bai Zhou would be hers for the taking. She would conduct the operation herself and look into the relevant intelligence. Where should she begin her investigation… The Gem Witch gazed thoughtfully out the window. But at the same time, a doubt surfaced in the Gem Witch’s heart. There had been one uproar after another here—even headquarters of the Special Control Bureau had sent people… And the Statute Hall still showed no sign of movement? The people the Gem Witch found most disagreeable were those stiff, doctrinaire “zombies.” But she had to admit that their efficiency, and the ruthless style with which they did things, could fairly be called a shining light of justice. Every official body held the Statute Hall in awe, and yet it was precisely because the Statute Hall existed that the official side remained the official side, and the rats of the secret world could only ever hide in the dark depths. …So where were those “zombies”? What were they busy with? Was there some great matter unknown to the rest of them tying their hands? Or was it something else…? … The long night wore on. Bai Zhou spent the night on an air-conditioning unit and slept beautifully. When he woke, he stepped onto the humming unit, and it gave a loud metallic clang. Aching all over, sore in the back and the waist, Bai Zhou felt more than ever that he needed a place to live. If only he could have taken a hot shower before bed last night. At this rate, even if the Major didn’t kill him, he would die of a stroke on some air-conditioning unit. Objectively speaking, spirituality could cleanse the body. But the life of a stray cat was still a little too much of a challenge for a neat freak like Bai Zhou. Lighting a mote of spirituality every day to serve as a bath—no Extraordinary besides Bai Zhou would do anything so extravagant. Everyone regarded spirituality as the finest, most precious essence of their own body, so stingy with it that they begrudged using it for experiments and research, let alone a bath… In short, finding a new place to live was, for Bai Zhou— Absolutely imperative! Bai Zhou was just pondering where he could get his hands on an apartment without spending money… The sun rose in the east. Crow woke as well. The moment she woke, she reminded Bai Zhou with a serious face not to forget today’s schedule. “Schedule?” “Yes. Did you forget, Teacher Xiaobai?” Xiaobai… Teacher? Bai Zhou: “…” On this day, the sky was clear and bright. September 2, 2030, the fifth day of the eighth lunar month. Federal Coconut Day. Clear weather. An auspicious day for breaking ground, moving, and taking up residence. On this day, psychology teacher Bai Zhou assumed his post and descended upon his loyal Yuanmeng Middle School. Before he even set foot on campus, while waiting for the light at a crosswalk, the newly arrived Bai Zhou did a student a genuine good turn. “Hey, classmate, you dropped your summer homework!” Picking the workbook up off the ground and reading the four characters Summer Vacation Homework on its cover, Bai Zhou hurried to alert the student sitting on the back of the electric scooter ahead. —Such an important thing, in his hands just a moment ago; how had it ended up on the ground so quickly? And right at the moment the light changed. Good thing he had spotted it in time. The middle-aged man driving the scooter took the workbook, his eyebrows shooting up. He turned to his son behind him and bared his teeth in a grin that promised nothing good: “Go on, thank this big brother of yours!” The student’s little face visibly flushed red; he looked too overcome with gratitude to get a word out. “No thanks needed, no thanks needed.” Bai Zhou waved both hands, walked off with flair, and left no name. An unnamed hero who had done a good deed—merit plus one! “…” “Congratulations, you’ve passed our interview. Yuanmeng Middle School is delighted to welcome a talent like you!” In an office on campus, the academic affairs director shook Bai Zhou’s hand vigorously. Soon after, the director took Bai Zhou to complete the onboarding paperwork. The two walked one behind the other down the corridor inside the classroom building. By now Bai Zhou had taken on the appearance of an utterly ordinary young man, the sort who looked like a fresh graduate just starting the job hunt. It was not the work of a ritual, so there was no ripple of spirituality—it was a wondrous disguise technique. According to Crow, this was basic groundwork for a “Hunter,” though Bai Zhou had his doubts. …What kind of Hunter needed disguise as basic coursework? For now, his identity was a PhD in psychology freshly graduated from Tinghai University, applying for a position as a school counselor. —His name was Zhou Ya. Every document was forged, and the interview had rested entirely on psychological suggestion; it was nothing short of brazen cheating. Yet Bai Zhou had thus successfully infiltrated Tinghai’s top-ranked middle school, taking the place of the psychology teacher on extended leave. “Teacher Zhou, is something weighing on your mind?” The bald, round-faced, middle-aged director in a plaid shirt saw Bai Zhou’s grave expression and asked with concern. “Ah—no, not really.” Bai Zhou came back to himself and waved his hands. On the surface he looked blank and expressionless, but inwardly he was desperately nervous. Seeing Bai Zhou’s furrowed brow, the director assumed this psychology PhD was once again contemplating the philosophy of life. But in truth, eighteen-year-old Bai Zhou didn’t know a damn thing. He was only wondering what to say to fob the director off. “Speaking of which, Teacher Zhou, you really are studious.” Even while privately doubting whether the new counselor—so taciturn, so introverted—could truly guide students, the director made small talk to build goodwill with his new colleague. “Carrying such a thick book wherever you go—it must be a terribly profound professional text.” Bai Zhou had been carrying a book thicker than a brick, its cover wrapped in brown kraft paper, leaving one curious about what lay inside. “Ah, this…” Bai Zhou looked down at his arms and nodded with great solemnity: “Learning has no end. This is the coursework my teacher assigned me.” “Your teacher…” The academic affairs director was filled with respect. No doubt some renowned professor at Tinghai University. Such a personage would ordinarily appear only in textbooks and on television; there would be no way at all to reach him. With that thought, he grew considerably warmer in his hospitality toward Bai Zhou. “…” It took roughly ten minutes or so, ending with the director handing Bai Zhou a set of office keys, before the onboarding was complete. In the moment he took the keys and the staff badge, Bai Zhou felt a flicker of disorientation at the familiar sense of déjà vu. The last time he had filled out onboarding paperwork had been inside the Special Control Bureau, where everyone went about armed and loaded… Sitting in a bright, spacious private office, Bai Zhou looked around with fresh curiosity, then set the thick book from his arms on the desk and opened it. A smug black cat with its arms crossed was drawn large across the cover. The title read: Eight Thousand Questions from a Naughty Black Cat! The subtitle was “The Federation’s First Large-Scale Educational Comic Series.” —So this was the “professional text” that had filled the academic affairs director with such respect. …In truth, the teacher Bai Zhou spoke of could only be Crow. The book, thick beyond reason, that Crow had told Bai Zhou to study was neither a psychology text nor occult knowledge. Her original intention had been to have him buy A Hundred Thousand Whys at the bookstore. But the bookstore had sold out; there were no copies left. So, after careful consideration, Crow picked out Eight Thousand Questions from a Naughty Black Cat for Bai Zhou. “You need this more than you need occult knowledge!” Crow was so serious about it that Bai Zhou took the book’s study to heart. He even carried it about with great care. Why, though, he could not say—but at Crow’s insistence, the book’s cover had been wrapped in brown paper as well. Anyone who didn’t know better would think it was something unfit to be seen… Bai Zhou didn’t understand. Rustle… The sound of turning pages stirred the quiet office. After reading for a while, Bai Zhou yawned and looked out at the sunlight and the still campus. A school counselor… What a strange experience. Let’s hope no clueless student actually came to him for counseling. Bai Zhou was thinking this very thought— and whatever you fear tends to arrive. During the quiet hours when the students ought to have been in class, someone knocked on the door of the counseling office. “…Come in,” Bai Zhou answered, quite reluctantly. Then he turned toward the office door and sat up straight in his chair. …The one who entered was a girl in a military training uniform. Large round glasses, a delicate but childish round face—familiar to Bai Zhou, and yet strange. Familiar, because that round face resembled someone he had known. And they had met before. —Though they had parted in a way that was rather hard to look at. Strange, because he had no idea who she was. He only knew that the other students called her… Class Monitor Fang? “T-Te-Te-Teacher—” Yet the precocious, poised Class Monitor Fang of Bai Zhou’s memory was nowhere to be found. She was stammering, as though she had run into something truly terrifying. The young girl looked utterly at a loss. She only shut the door tight and braced herself hard against it. Peering through the closed window, she cast an anxious look outside: “Can I hide in here?” Her lips pale with fright, still shaken, the girl asked a question with no sense to it. But she brought news that snapped Bai Zhou to full alert: “H-Help me, Teacher!” “—Someone… something is hunting me down!” (End of Chapter)