Chapter 561: Hongquangou (3)

"There is indeed an organization here called the Hongquangou Elder Association. We had just prepared to go and inquire, and they had already sent a representative to seek us out proactively. They said that since we drove here, we need to pay the road maintenance fee for the village roads."

Du Zhengyi looked at the Battle Mage speaking to him, remembering the name was Yan Hao. He should have graduated many years ago, but the actual time he joined the Battle Mage ranks was a few years later than Du Zhengyi. Du Zhengyi had some impression of him; he had seen him a few times when he was forced to give lectures and Q&A sessions for Battle Mages in Qionglin. "Did you pay?"

Yan Hao was stunned for a moment, not expecting the God of War to ask this first, "Uh..."

Du Zhengyi looked at him expressionlessly. Even so, even with no expression, he felt as if he had read the words "idiot" written on his face. His heart rate accelerated, sweat broke out on his forehead, and he felt he must have messed something up. Although he really couldn't figure out where he had gone wrong—even if he had given money, it was only RMB, and just a little bit at that. He looked nervously at the legendary God of War, waiting for his criticism with trepidation.

Du Zhengyi, however, frowned, "Why didn't you continue?"

He was startled at first, then calmed down, his heart settling. Great, Du Zhengyi didn't intend to reprimand him in public. They were walking toward the home of the family that had lost a young girl; the house was located at the edge of the village, near the main road leading out of the village. "I didn't get much useful information. Most of the people living in the village are elderly; they are almost deaf and blind, so to speak, and they couldn't tell me anything more than Zhou Ruisi could. However, there is indeed a family surnamed Wang that lost a child that day, a girl. The child's parents are working away, and there is a younger brother at home with the parents. She was at home with her grandfather. The child's name is Wang Ke, and the village has already reported it to the police."

Du Zhengyi said nothing, but Xiang Qian was quite satisfied with Yan Hao and patted him on the shoulder, "I know you are at the time for your assessment grading. Don't worry about the score; if you weren't an excellent combatant, you wouldn't have been assigned to today's mission at all."

Yan Hao looked at the Old Mage gratefully, pursed his lips, and said solemnly, "I will work harder and will never fear sacrifice. I can continue to be competent in the position of Level 1 Battle Mage."

Xiang Qian nodded and turned to remind Du Zhengyi, "You remember that you need to grade them, right?"

"Me?"

"Of course you! The score you give accounts for thirty percent of the weight!" Xiang Qian said with dissatisfaction, "Don't rush forward yourself; leave more opportunities for them, and remember to observe their performance."

Du Zhengyi glanced at Yan Hao and said calmly, "Heart rate 70, it's actually as fast as a human's now. Someone who didn't know better might think you were fighting a monster."

Yan Hao's face turned red immediately, and his palms were slick with sweat.

Xiang Qian laughed out loud, "Be reasonable, that's because you make them nervous."

"It seems it's fortunate it's me. If it were a Qiongqi, his heart rate would probably be at 210, and we'd have to call Mahjong up for emergency aid," Du Zhengyi said unceremoniously, ordering the entire Battle Mage team without even turning his head, "You all wait here. It is forbidden to use any Magic, and do not interfere with the Magic Measurement. You are all experienced hands; I don't need to say this again, right? But you had better not have heartbeats or breathe either; I find it annoying to listen to."

Yan Hao looked at the other Battle Mages with a bitter face. The tallest and silliest ones immediately stood rooted to the spot, their faces full of righteous seriousness, as if Du Zhengyi were praising them. No one exchanged glances with him; the great taboo in the Battle Mage ranks was to talk too much to Du Zhengyi. There was always an atmosphere here that if everyone could pretend Du Zhengyi didn't exist, no one would be bothered. To explain it specifically, if everyone didn't feel ashamed of Du Zhengyi's reprimands and insults, then it wouldn't count as a disgrace. Du Zhengyi's orders... of course, no one dared to ignore that, but as long as everyone pretended it was a decree drifting down from heaven, then executing it wouldn't be a disgrace either. In short, the point was to treat Du Zhengyi as transparent; no one could express proactive worship toward Du Zhengyi. Xiang Qian was almost retired; as a mage of her generation, she naturally didn't understand this iron rule of social interaction among the subordinates, nor would she care. But Yan Hao was within the constraints of this invisible rule, and he had clearly broken it.

However, of course, no one would come out to blame Yan Hao at this time. Because, who knew how far Du Zhengyi could hear, and who knew what Du Zhengyi could hear? To put it more mystically, who knew if he had eyes in the back of his head? Du Zhengyi was a legend among Battle Mages, but not a pleasant legend; he was the kind of legend your grandmother told you about in the countryside when you were little—for example, the kind where if you met a weasel on the road, you must immediately shout "Respectfully send off the Weasel Immortal" three times.

It was just that if Battle Mages happened to have to work with Du Zhengyi, the situation would appear somewhat ridiculous like it was now. Everyone would fall into proactive silence; they stood together, but each one was like a wooden chicken. It just so happened that Du Zhengyi wouldn't take the initiative to speak either, so they looked like a funeral procession.

Du Zhengyi walked into the rural courtyard. Before entering the two-story farmhouse, he took his phone out of his pocket, wanting to send a message to Luo Qi to ask if he knew what the Elder Association was for. Those Battle Mages had always been a bit like wooden chickens; it was fine in human cities, but as soon as they got to the countryside, they were completely played for fools by the cunning humans. He had finished writing the WeChat message, but then he remembered that Luo Qi should be in the Highland Mage's class at this time, and there was no phone signal at all.

There was no electricity in the Highland Mage's territory, and he hadn't thought to charge his phone after coming out. Now the phone only had five percent battery left. Perhaps the phone signal was unstable in this place, wasting extra battery. He wanted to save some power for backup, so he turned the phone off. Just at this moment, the corner of his eye caught the chalk writing on the wall by the door.

Du Zhengyi put his phone back in his pocket and pulled the door open with his right hand. There was no aura of a living person behind the door; sunlight illuminated a section of the dilapidated staircase from the doorway. On the wall next to the stairs, all the way to the second floor, it was covered in Spells written in chalk. He couldn't help but take a deep breath; a thick smell of Magic rushed toward him.

Someone had cast Magic here; someone had cast a large amount of Magic here, to the point that the smell had seeped into the bricks and tiles and was difficult to dissipate for a while. Du Zhengyi stepped into this dim house; the poverty of this family was carved into every inch of the house's surfaces. He walked up the stairs and came to a little girl's room. He saw some pink decorations, most of them so dirty that their original appearance was unrecognizable. The Spells written in chalk became denser in this room. Over and over, layer upon layer, they were superimposed on the wall. At a height a little girl could reach, a child had once frantically output the Spells in her mind.

Du Zhengyi stopped. There was a trail of blood on the floor. He looked up; the blood trail extended from a door connected to the pink room, and the door was tightly closed. He slowly approached the door; the thick smell of Magic mixed with the smell of blood was nauseating.

He reached out his hand, and just as he was about to touch the doorknob, he pulled his hand back quickly as if he had been burned by fire.

The Magic Field behind this door was still slightly at work. Someone, right now, was casting a Spell.

(End of this chapter)