Chapter 32: Chapter 32: Tick-tock, Tick-tock
There were many ways to defeat a formal employee-level evil spirit, and Duan Mingyuan often resorted to the simplest and most brutal of them all. When the gap in Life Energy beca too vast, the strength of an Ability lost its significance.
But this clearly did not apply to Yang Ping.
So, could a normal person theoretically defeat an evil spirit of this level?
This question had troubled Duan Mingyuan for a long ti. Generally speaking, an Ability was like equipping the monster with a lethal weapon, enhancing their already superior Strength, Agility, and Vitality with the effect of a First Encounter Kill.
The trickery of an Ability lay in that the mont you obtained the information, you were likely already ensnared.
His colleagues, whom he had never t, often had to exchange lives for intelligence. According to industry averages revealed by Da Jiang, they usually needed the sacrifice of three intelligence officers to fully understand the monster’s Ability, and in their eyes, an awakened monster was already an apex existence.
They had never encountered an individual in the Nesting Phase.
The first thing to do was to give Yang Ping enough opportunities to make mistakes. As long as the battle dragged on, with his intelligence, he should be able to spot the loophole.
Duan Mingyuan had already devised a preliminary battle plan in his heart. For him, it was a brand-new experience, sothing lacking in his life’s record. To call it extraordinarily aningful was an understatent—he had never encountered a battle where he was evenly matched.
Even when he accidentally stumbled into the monster’s lair and encountered a monster with unknown Abilities, the combat phase failed to provide him with much excitent. He wouldn’t even need to sacrifice his usual backpack if it weren’t for witnessing the full extent of the opponent’s Abilities.
For so reason, the anticipation of the upcoming battle set his heart racing, as if he suddenly reclaid the passion of his high school days.
The unknown enemy, unknown Ability, and a post-school encounter.
A battle fought with all one’s might, using every trick in the book.
All these descriptions full of passion were foreign to him, which is why Duan Mingyuan liked comics and gas. Only in the virtual world could he find the tracks of passion, friendship, and bonds.
And now, these fantasies seed to be turning into reality.
Yang Ping, your adventure has just begun. Strive as if aiming to be promoted to an official senior.
.............
When the end-of-class bell rang, an indescribable premonition of misfortune welled up in his heart.
He had possessed an uncommon sixth sense since childhood.
Whenever this feeling surfaced, sothing bad would certainly happen that day, and now, the ominous premonition was stronger than ever. Despite the daylight and the classroom filled with the hubbub of classmates, he felt goosebumps all over.
After packing his bag, he took out his phone and lingered on his "Uncle Duan’s" contact for a while but ultimately did not call him.
Although he was certain that sothing terrible would happen today, he could not predict when or how the misfortune would strike. Calling Uncle Duan and having him watch over him would be too presumptuous.
He had disliked troubling others since childhood. If soone helped him, he would make sure to return the favor quickly. Otherwise, the feeling of indebtedness would beco an invisible pressure, sotis severe enough to cause insomnia.
As he left the school gates, the security guard called out to him, saying a man had left this earlier, instructing him to give it to Yang Ping after school.
A small sachet tied with a red string, still carrying a faint scent, reminiscent of a mixture of plants and dicinal herbs.
The ssage claid it was a gift from Jiuyue, and the sachet would bring good fortune.
Yang Ping could guess the sender was Duan Mingyuan, but this only confird his uneasy premonition.
Gars know that there’s always supply before a big battle.
Receiving the gift ant that he might need to use it soon.
Duan Mingyuan seed like a dependable adult, very much fitting his image of a senior in the industry. Rembering the advice given when they parted yesterday, Yang Ping looked down and composed a text ssage.
It was 16:40. He usually reached ho by 17:30.
In the ssage, he ntioned that sothing bad was likely to happen today and that he would send another ssage around 17:40 to confirm his safety. If no ssage was received by then, it would indicate that sothing had happened to him on his way ho.
After receiving a reply from Duan Mingyuan, Yang Ping took a deep breath.
The journey ho felt exceptionally long. Once doubt took root in his heart, every face he saw on the way beca suspicious.
The familiar last carriage of the train was usually less crowded. Yang Ping liked to stand in front of the door at the end of the subway, gazing through the window at the pitch-black tunnel.
"Another bad thing is about to happen?"
The Rattleback finally lowered its voice and asked.
This was not a good sign; it knew Yang Ping’s sixth sense was eerily accurate, sotis even serving as a reliable detector for evil spirits.
Whenever a crisis alert arose, they would invariably encounter wandering evil spirits.
But they weren’t always able to save the people targeted by the evil spirits, and during these tis, Yang Ping was often regarded as insane, even being sued and called into the school counselor’s office for a talk.
Yet, even so, he would habitually take a look and then offer whatever help he could.
Sotis, even being a monster itself, it couldn’t bear to watch, advising the kid not to ddle, but Yang Ping always said it was because he was a "ddler" that he survived.
"Hmm."
Yang Ping nodded, his palms sweaty with nervousness.
This premonition was different from usual, so intense that not even the surrounding noise could dissipate it, and as ti passed, the chill running down his spine beca more and more pronounced.
The last ti he felt like this was several years ago.
Strange noises would always co from the wardrobe facing him in his bedroom, and after telling his parents, he only received reprimands to "sleep properly and stop imagining things."
When the spine-chilling feeling reached its peak, the wardrobe door slowly cracked open, a pale arm creeping out; through the narrow gap, he saw a crimson eyeball.
It was also that night that he encountered The Rattleback.
Before that, four children had already gone missing from their hos in Yunlong City.
But things were different now.
He was no longer that child who would just cringe under the blankets, shaking with fear.
After getting off the subway, he walked unconsciously through the bustling streets, until a lush canopy of trees blocked his way.
In his left hand, Yang Ping clenched an electric shock gun modified for his use, gazing into the distance at the path that was even more deserted than usual.
Senior Mingyuan said yesterday that evil spirits like to pick secluded places to act, and there was no better place than this.
Suddenly, discordant notes echoed around.
"Tick tock, tick tock."
It sounded like the ticking of an old-fashioned clock.
"The Rattleback."
Yang Ping’s gaze was resolute, facing the approaching danger; the last ti he hid under the covers, but this ti, he intended to confront his fear head-on, "After eting Senior Mingyuan yesterday, I was determined. I want to beco soone like him in the future."
"Now is not the ti to talk about this."
The Rattleback reminded Yang Ping, "Soone’s coming."
A figure appeared on the shady path.
It seed to be human.
Perhaps due to the cold, it was dressed heavily, with half its face concealed under a hoodie.
"Don’t jump at shadows, that’s just..."
The conversation abruptly stopped, and in a daze, before he knew it, the figure was right in front of him. From this angle, Yang Ping saw the person’s features clearly.
The face hidden under the hood lacked human features; instead, it was a walking clock face.
"Tick tock, tick tock."
The sound of the clock was coming from beneath the hood.
Yang Ping also noticed the other raising its right arm, the sleeve not flesh and blood but sharp clock hands, and at that mont the bladelike pointer was stabbed into his chest.
Even his sense of pain was a half beat slow.
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