Lin Wan’s Speculation

Arriving at the familiar library, I headed straight for the spot I’d chosen last time and sat down. By some strange coincidence—or perhaps not—the book detailing the four great sects of ghosts, corpses, demons, and spirits was still there, resting exactly where I’d left it, as if it had never moved.

I opened the book again and noticed that I could now understand more of its content. For instance, the page about the Four of Clubs, the Ghost card, was now legible to me.

“Infant Spirit Ghosts are formed from the grievances of murdered infants in the mortal world. Their abilities include beguilement, mind-reading, and sensing.”

“Ultimate unlocked ability: Thousand-Handed Infant Spirit. Capable of conjuring countless hands to attack enemies, its strongest form rivals the Thousand-Armed Guanyin of Buddhism.”

Flipping through several pages of text I couldn’t decipher, I landed on the description for the Jack of Clubs.

“Shadow Ghosts are grievance spirits formed from human resentment accumulating in shadows. Their abilities include shadow stealth, manipulation, and substitution.”

“Ultimate unlocked ability…”

The font following the ultimate ability was still in strange characters I didn’t recognize, but the preceding words had become readable to me. I didn’t linger on that, instead turning the pages further.

In the Diamonds section, I could make out the description for the Three of Diamonds.

“Iron Body—by inheriting the powers of the zombie clan, the body is fortified to become utterly impervious to blades and bullets.”

“Ultimate unlocked ability: Invincible Golden Form, entering a state of absolute defense for one minute, immune to all physical attacks.”

Reading about the Three of Diamonds, I couldn’t help but feel regret. If Lu Ling had awakened his ultimate ability, even Mei Mei’s fatal blow wouldn’t have been enough to kill him. Alas, Lu Ling is gone, and it’s best Lin Wan never learns this.

The Seven of Diamonds was Tan Tou’s Bone ability. Though I couldn’t read the description, I’d seen nearly all his powers in action and understood them well enough.

Moving to the Hearts section, I again saw familiar characters—it was the description for the Two of Hearts, the card taken from the slain Mei Mei.

“Divine Beast Pegasus, radiant in all directions.”

“Ability: Blinding Light, unleashes the power of Pegasus, instantly depriving all but the user of their vision.”

“Ultimate unlocked ability: Meteor Fall, charging on a white horse from the sky, falling to annihilate both self and enemy.”

The following descriptions included the Five of Hearts’ divine beast Shen Wu, the Six of Hearts’ demon beast Schrödinger's Cat, the Seven of Hearts’ demon beast Soaring Serpent, and the Ten of Hearts’ divine beast Void Turtle. Though the text was unintelligible, the illustrations gave me a general sense of what they represented.

Suddenly, I recalled that Li Yuan had claimed his card was the Ten of Hearts, but in truth, it belonged to Fatty Qian. Why had Li Yuan deceived us?

The Hearts cards represent ancient divine and demon beasts. Presumably, the Classic of Mountains and Seas or other historical books could offer relevant information. By consulting these and observing their powers, perhaps their hidden abilities could be deduced. I’d leave this analysis to Lin Wan later.

Then there were the Spirit Vein playing cards: so far, the Two of Spades was the Ancient Mirror, Three of Spades the Ancient Jade, Four of Spades the Ancient Tree, Six of Spades the Ancient Ruler, and in my dream, I’d seen a scroll and a spear, which I sensed were also Spirit Vein weapons.

I remembered the ancient scroll was hidden in the library, while the ancient spear was buried deep underground. These two cards wouldn’t be easy to find. As I was poring over the book, a hand suddenly landed on my shoulder. Instinctively, I nearly grabbed it for an over-the-shoulder throw.

But then I heard Lin Wan’s voice, and my heart eased. The endless games had left me a little on edge.

Lin Wan was dressed in a blue casual suit with a crisp white shirt underneath, not a hint of his former sloppiness. He looked like a bright, handsome young man, evidently free from the shadow of Lu Ling’s death.

I stared at him so intently that he instinctively covered his chest.

“What are you doing?”

I swallowed to ease the awkwardness, but Lin Wan misinterpreted my action, stepping back anxiously.

“Come on, Lin Zijian, don’t you have Han Xue? I know I’m good-looking, but don’t start liking me!”

In response to his sudden words, I gave him a big slap.

“Have some respect.”

Lin Wan dodged, laughing, then quickly pulled out a chair to sit across from me, looking serious.

“So? You must have something important to discuss this time.”

Apparently, he’d been teasing me on purpose. “Of course,” I replied, pushing the mysterious book toward him.

“This is the book I told you about.”

“This? Are you kidding me?” Lin Wan didn’t even glance at the table, staring straight at me. “Did the last game fry your brain? There’s nothing here!”

I looked down—strange. The book I’d just been reading had vanished. Yet the sensation in my fingers told me it had been real before I pushed it toward Lin Wan.

Where had it gone?

Seeing Lin Wan’s furrowed brow, I stopped dwelling on the book and quickly recounted the events of our last game: not just the game master, but Tan Tou’s odd behavior, the sudden appearance of the Club Knight Zheng Wei, and the forest dismemberment case from three years ago.

Lin Wan lowered his head in thought, then said seriously, “Zijian, if everything you’ve said is true, then I think we’re not the first batch of contract holders. Maybe the incident three years ago was another game. What do you think?”

His hypothesis startled me, and a flood of questions surfaced.

“If the life-and-death game started three years ago, why did it begin anew after we enrolled this year?”

Lin Wan pondered briefly. “To replenish players, or perhaps the first game failed and the contract holders didn’t fully emerge. To me, this game feels more like a ritual. Only when all fifty-four contract holders awaken does the ritual truly begin. If the game never truly starts, how can it ever end?”

His words sent me into deep contemplation, and a more terrifying conjecture formed in my mind.

“Lin Wan, so far we’ve met fewer contract holders than I can count on both hands. Could there be similar situations elsewhere? Like in D University’s affiliated high school or the Foreign Language High School?”

Both schools are feeder high schools for D University: students who score above the national threshold in the college entrance exam are guaranteed admission to D University. More than half of D University’s students come from these two high schools; the rest are recruited nationwide.

Most of us entered D University through the national exam. No matter where you are in the country, D University’s legendary job placement and salaries are well-known, and every family dreams of sending their children there.

But D University’s training is elimination-based; few students make it to graduation. Upon admission, families sign a life-and-death contract with the school: the school takes the child for four years, and parents may not visit in any way. If the child graduates, the family’s future is secure, with monthly payments deposited into their account.

Yet their child will never see them again, except possibly through video calls.

Fortunately, nowadays families no longer have only one child. Each family strives to send one into D University; a successful graduate enters the upper echelons of society.

However, the contract lists not only the benefits of graduation: if a student fails to graduate, they must spend their life doing menial work at D University. The family receives a respectable sum, though less than for graduates, but it’s still considerable. The cost: the child will never leave D University until death.

Despite the contract’s harshness, the promise of money entices countless parents to exhaust every means to send their children to D University. Admission isn’t based solely on exam scores—the physical assessment is equally crucial. Many score high but are blocked by the physical test.

I am more and more convinced that D University’s admission rules are designed to increase participants in this deadly game.

Because in this fully sealed campus, we can rely only on ourselves.

And there’s something only D University students know: once you enter, unless you graduate or receive a special assignment, you cannot leave. High walls and electrified fences cut us off from the normal world.

“Zijian, I think you’re probably right. Have you ever asked Fatty Qian which high school he attended?” Lin Wan mused. Since Fatty Qian joined the game, Lin Wan had been curious about his background. Though I’d explained for him, Lin Wan never believed Fatty Qian’s story.

“Maybe he’s from one of those two high schools, which is why he’s also caught up in the game. But in high school, I never encountered anything like this.”

Lin Wan propped his chin, lost in thought, then looked at me seriously.

“Have you forgotten the annual Top Student Training Camp before the college entrance exam?”