Chapter 1643: NO．258：Improving Efficiency Is Never Wrong

NO．258：Improving Efficiency Is Never Wrong

"Is it really necessary for Senior Bai Ren to counter his psychological shadow in this way?"

""

"What is your opinion?"

A sudden remark caused the silent Bai Ren to first glance with danger, then with belated remorse, his gaze narrowing, while the trainer only felt a brief ripple of doubt, and then this remark, full of calm composure, was a counter‑question.

It was not sarcasm, but a sincere question based on trust in one's own ability.

Thanks to the necromancy major's inevitable high‑intensity interaction with souls, Manchester Tea House has mastered a means of communication that cuts straight through appearances to the soul.

Although most people nowadays have a basis in source energy arts and know how to consciously conceal mind and soul to avoid leaking information unconsciously, this method seems not very useful.

But in a place like the Central Teslin ivory tower, it is utterly effective.

Either to better learn skills, or because they trust the school security department enough, or just like me, unable to accept the slight discomfort of over‑concealing the soul, everyone here is always relaxed.

The union of body and soul, yet extravagantly displayed, can be called the most vibrant state of living beings.

And among them, the trainer obviously has the strongest presence.

Having restrained divinity and curbed the mind, it still possesses an extraordinary presence, like a building whose doors and windows are shut tight, making it hard to peer inside, yet at a glance one can see its specifications clash with the surroundings.

It is simply a castle‑sized anomaly plopped beside a copy‑paste apartment block.

And this castle is not always shut tight.

It often opens for approved visitors, just like now.

Manchester Tea House clearly understands why Suzi, Aizhi, and Bo Pang haven't come these days—clearly some of them want to train extra in private sessions, and others simply can't bear to let the trainer interact with those guys.

Not being honest and focusing on the race like everyone else, it's hard to say whether it's adult leisure or adult greed, but the seniors' and super‑seniors' intimate moves toward the trainer are impossible to guard against, really setting up a hard‑to‑judge example, one of mere vigilance.

But no matter how vigilant, Suzi's habit of masking her true feelings with a willful persona and Aizhi's struggle to fully let go of restraint while easily being overtaken by her sister to act wildly have destined them, in the trainer's heart, to be the guarded side.

Forget trying to stop them; they'll simply be thrown out together with Qianming and Tianlangxing by Aomo, hand in hand, sitting outside dazed, fellow competitors of the same rank.

Conversely, Bo Pang and Luna, who are less opposed by the trainer, each show a permissive attitude of not being resisted.

Without the urgency to seize results, nor the intolerance of others' exclusivity—clearly they once possessed astonishing potential for dominance, touted by Suzi as a huge threat—yet they repeatedly displayed a striking contrast, proving to everyone that the trainer is not what they originally imagined, but a calm, quiet track.

When everyone was thinking about how to chase and tug on the track, revealing their horse‑girl nature, the track itself had already changed the two players—a key point utterly unlike the known cases of romance between horse‑girls and trainers—enough to make the self‑styled commander heighten vigilance and the self‑styled professional slow their pace.

Thus we have this delicate situation now.

Unlike before, the training field with only Manchester Tea House and Narita Bai Ren present builds up the combinations of junior and senior; instructor and instructed; those who love night and those who fear it; losers adjusting their mindset after a match and nervous preparers before a match.

Undoubtedly, this is a result of mutual compromise.

The unspoken understanding between the high‑school group and the adult group means that, over these two days, only this pair that at first glance seems very quiet remains on the training field.

But even Aomo himself can sense the undercurrents constantly flowing, letting everyone know that this calm is merely a surface.

Between seniors and juniors there is not only harmony; between teacher and pupil it is not solely respect either. Compared to peaceful coexistence, struggle is humanity's enduring main axis, and when you realize that their changes boil down to more than just interest—and can simply be attributed to one person—you may well be inclined to blame all disputes on that person's existence.

Moreover, one would think that if that person had any initiative, they should step up to take responsibility and break off this bitter‑spicy cycle—but in fact, both sides' arguments in this struggle are utterly righteous and justified, compared to the concealed, sugar‑coated core within; that person, when wearing the trainer's insignia and carrying out the trainer's duties, is indeed more concerned with that righteous, justified exterior.

"Letting her face that waning moon above the night… is far more effective than a Mercedes in this fabricated darkness, right?"

Yes, exactly that.

The packaging is merely used to placate the man acting as the track, to steady his mindset and keep him neutral, yet the pattern on that packaging truly corresponds to the method of breaking through at the work level.

And that is precisely why he appears here.

"Fabricated darkness is still darkness; whether natural or artificial, people always fear the lurking things that might exist in the dark, a fear inherited from humanity's most primitive era, pointing to the unknown threat before torches were even born."

"…My point is efficiency, trainer—that effect is very slow."

"Is that so? I thought it was quite notable." Aomo feigned silence, scratching the back of his head, then turned his gaze to the golden eyes of Bai Ren, who was meeting his look in silence.

"After all, her test results point directly to some kind of abnormal entity she encountered as a child; personally I lean toward it being a remnant of an outer god, especially since I recently came into contact with it myself—it left a deep impression."

"……" Bai Ren still kept silent.

But this silence differs from before, when she let Aomo speak to handle the tea house for her; this is her silence over a memory that never felt wrong to her.

She felt a fear that seemed natural, yet also a deep‑seated fear of unknown origin, a fear hard to overcome… Even though an early mental screening had suggested contact with some kind of abnormal thing, the lack of any trace only made her more concerned about how to handle it in the simplest way.

Only now did she approach Aomo for this reason, asking him to bring his diligent, conscientious effort to trace it; then that person easily knocked down the judgment that the psychiatrist had labored over for ten‑plus minutes before hesitantly writing.

"…If that's the case, then a passive approach is indeed more effective."

"Although I want to object to that passivity, you have no other opinion, right?"

"Hmm……"

Although I'd like to object, everything I've read in the books on outer‑god‑related mind and soul says that remedial education points toward self‑repair, self‑opposition.

"……But I still insist that my plan is more effective."

"You kid……"

Chazuo's sullen persistence made Aomo chuckle helplessly, though it didn't anger him.

After all, he had personally seen that child's inner self, knowing deep down how much the child loves darkness and the waning moon; hearing this, he'd think it's just the kid being stubborn after trying to wheedle a snack with roundabout excuses, only to be refused sensibly by an adult.

Of course, in Aomo's household this scene usually means reversing the child‑parent roles—the one who's stubborn and obstinate is often the parent wanting to add cool, story‑laden, limited‑edition weapons to their collection.

And the child in charge of finances will absolutely never indulge them.

Fortunately, this reverse‑of‑the‑norm standoff didn't persist as the child grew up; Aomo now looks at Chazuo's reaction and even feels happy, sensing that this is a normal age‑appropriate dynamic for himself.

Looking at Chazuo, he also thinks the kid is pretty cute—far more than some Tang person, a Tang‑vampire foster father multiplied by ten thousand.

So that child can enjoy the treatment Morrison rarely experienced back then: Aomo voluntarily loosening his lips.

"As for the efficiency part, you're right—even facing the night's waning moon, it's still the person concerned who must confront it, only the difficulty of that trial is higher."

Saying this, he again looked at Narita Bai Ren, who had always been quiet, perhaps not understanding and thus out of the loop.

"That being the case, we should still seek the opinion of the person involved, Chazuo."

"……Hmm."

Chazuo replied with a nasal murmur, sounding not very willing.