Chapter 601: NO.183: Events don't come to me; I go to events

NO. 183: Events don't come to me; I go to events.

"Have you succeeded in spirit communication? Miss Aimu Zhiji."

Walking up the stairs that were slightly higher and farther from the arena, Aimu Zhiji, who had broken through the trainers' encirclement, suddenly heard such a question.

It was such a question with no beginning or end that made her steps halt.

She turned her head and saw a strand of silver hair on his forehead, reminding her of the black-haired youth of the Eastern Sea Emperor and Ludaofu Xiangzheng.

He looked like someone from the outer districts, with a clearly Western facial structure, and those dark red eyes hidden behind his lenses were fixed on her.

Aimu Zhiji felt that face was vaguely familiar, but she couldn't recall it at the moment; instead, she saw him lightly wave at her and point to the seat beside him.

There weren't many spectators at the mock match, so a large section of the tiered seating was empty, with only him sitting there, wearing a casual suit that looked rather hot.

When Aimu Zhiji approached, she could clearly see he had even tied a tie.

Beneath the exceedingly formal bow tie was a rare pattern of white background with a black moon, and only at this distance did she notice that the left chest of his suit was embroidered with a faint, winding snake pattern, as if etched.

That pattern is visible only at certain angles, but it becomes slightly noticeable when it reflects sunlight.

No matter how you say it, he is an overly eccentric youth; if it weren't for the trainer's horseshoe-shaped badge pinned to his chest, Aimu Zhiji would never have come over.

No, even if he were really a trainer, she isn't the type to respond just because she's invited; ultimately, the reason is still that sentence.

"You are..."

"Aomo Lindun." the youth said with a smile.

Compared to the forced smiles of the trainers just now, his smile was much more natural, and hearing that name made her blink slightly, realizing where that sense of familiarity came from.

Early that morning, she had heard that name from her capricious roommate, thinking that although the roommate was headstrong, she still had good judgment, and could get someone clever to call him brother—even she would be a little curious.

And before that, she had already seen his likeness in the all‑pervasive news and magazines, and had also seen the horse girl who became famous at the end of summer.

One of them was her classmate.

Just as he pointed with his hand, Aimu Zhiji followed his gaze and could see far off a silhouette of long black hair.

That was undoubtedly a classmate from the Manchester Tea House.

In the whole class, only that classmate had black hair reaching her waist, and during breaks other students would surround her asking how she achieved such smooth hair care.

At this moment, that tiny, blurry figure that seemed small to her strength appeared to be heading this way, even waving.

How did she recognize her?

Aimu Zhiji unconsciously lowered her head to look at her sports uniform; after taking off the numbered undershirt, she was hardly noticeable no matter how you looked.

Although the youth before her wore something somewhat eye‑catching, at this distance it wasn't much different from other black clothing.

Just as that doubt flickered in her mind, the youth who remained seated also gave a light wave, then turned his head to look at Aimu Zhiji and continued his introduction:

"I'm a trainer from the tea house. I heard she said you're interested in me—coincidentally, I'm also a bit curious about you now."

"Now me?" Aimu Zhiji blinked, immediately grasping the point of his words.

But he wasn't in a hurry to answer; instead, he insisted on the ritual, pointing again to the seat beside him: "Why not sit down and talk?"

Aimu Zhiji was still standing; even though his words bothered her, she had no reason to linger there.

Even now, faced with his second invitation, she merely gave a cold face and refused: "No thanks, I just wanted to know what you meant by what you said earlier."

"Too bad, it seems you're no longer interested in me."

"Saying that, your expression shows no regret at all."

"In a universe filled with various radiations, celestial bodies always need a thick atmosphere to protect themselves; likewise, Miss Aimu Zhiji, reliable adults must learn to conceal their inner feelings."

"…" Aimu Zhiji hadn't heard such bombastic talk in a long time; considering he was her classmate's trainer and also the brother her roommate had acknowledged, she suppressed her urge to mock.

But no matter what, her mood wouldn't improve.

Facing this man who wasn't slick with oily talk but certainly wasn't honest either, she felt an irritation far greater than when a few trainers had pestered her.

Thus, the dark shape seen in Aomo's eyes grew even more intense; even the faint outline struggled within his dark red eyes, the black condensing into a vertical slit, like the pupil of some cold‑blooded creature.

"So, what did you mean by what you said earlier?"

Aimu Zhiji stepped back half a step.

Even through the lenses, she noticed his eyes suddenly crack open with red; that gaze made her extremely uncomfortable, easily bringing to mind the pattern embroidered on his suit.

She didn't want to ask; his strangeness wasn't limited to this one thing, and although this youth had intrigued her, after actually meeting him she already regretted her initial curiosity.

She even worried about her classmate.

"How could a classmate from the Manchester Tea House have such a bizarre trainer…" Thinking that his role should belong to Ailisuzhi, she became even more determined to have nothing to do with trainers.

"It was just an unconventional greeting, after all, with no other meaning."

The fingers slipped back into his clothing pocket, gripping the Loving Ghost card; the resentful spirit's grudge, opposing the negative energy radiated together with the owner's rejection, while the owner of that negative energy, oblivious to all this, had already been counted as the answer to the question.

This shouldn't have happened.

Those who study astronomy should prepare mental protection, for not all celestial bodies in this world can be casually observed; even children's books mention the terror of certain outer gods, who, though lacking sufficient power to interfere materially, still convey through their divine status what it means for mortals not to gaze directly at a deity.

"If that's the case, I have nothing else to do—I'm leaving."

She felt she had run into a completely bizarre oddball, and Aimu Zhiji no longer intended to waste time here.

After finishing the race, she still planned to do some solo endurance training, but since the training field would be taken over by the next batch of classmates for their matches, she needed to hurry to the gym.

With so many students at this school, the cutthroat competition isn't limited to just her.

"Take it easy, Miss Aimu Zhiji."

He raised his hand with a smile, watching her retreating back as she turned and left; Aomo's gaze lingered until she vanished from sight, his brow beginning to twitch.

He immediately took off his glasses and covered his eyes; at the moment the fissure in his eyes sealed, the vengeful spirit's blade light flickered, and the shattered black mist poured out together with the blood from the corner of his eyes.

That faint outline was no longer in pain; in his exhausted kneeling posture, he bowed in gratitude toward Aomo.

And Aomo was still wiping the blood from the corner of his eyes.

According to his knowledge of mysticism, which defines the double eyes as doors, using the Loving Ghost's power in this way was, although a successful attempt, poorly executed on his part.

The orders weren't issued finely enough; he wasn't hurt by the other party but by his own power.

Fortunately it was only a minor injury, allowing him to still see the other's movements; he only said, "Don't go back to her side for now, just stay at Chazuo for the time being."

That silhouette, which bore a strong resemblance to Aimu Zhiji's back, shook its head, then rose and gave a more formal bow, and immediately turned and vanished in a flicker.

That already indistinct outline became even harder to discern while moving; Aomo merely raised his hand instinctively, and saw the other completely vanish.

The hand that had nowhere to rest was lowered again.

After a brief thought, he raised it again and began tapping the light screen.

【Yuehuanshe: Miss Jun Chuan, may I ask if that classmate Aimu Zhiji has recently received anything similar to threatening letters?】

After finishing tapping, he stepped back, clicked again, and began tapping:

【Yuehuanshe: Exert your strength, find out where your roommate often goes to train and rest before and during the summer break; she may have been deliberately harmed, I will have Chazuo keep an eye on her in class, while you must work hard outside class; in short, first conduct a covert investigation, reply once you have something.】

【curren: Is it really such a big deal?!】

【Yuehuanshe: I have no need to speak alarmingly.】

【curren: Wait for Karen's news!】

(End of chapter)