Chapter 437: The Human World, Polluted Once More

Walking out of the classroom, not two steps taken, the dismissal bell rang, and the originally quiet campus instantly became lively.

Messy footsteps came from behind Tang Luo; someone reached out, wanting to lock his neck from behind.

Tang Luo tilted his body, dodging the comer, and turned to look at them.

"Where do you want to go?"

Standing behind were four people; the leader wore glasses, looked quite handsome, and he was the one who spoke.

"The toilet." Tang Luo smiled imperceptibly.

"Just right, we're going too, let's go together." The few people pushed and shoved, pushing Tang Luo into the toilet.

However, not the toilet on this floor, but the top-floor toilet one floor up.

The top floor held functional classrooms, all empty now, so naturally there was no one inside the toilet either.

The four surrounded Tang Luo, faces showing ill-intentioned smiles.

"Today's class fees are due." The bespectacled leader said.

He was the class monitor, named Liang Feifan, the main figure who bullied the original host.

According to this identity's original host's memories, this was a fairly oppressive society, all kinds of rules, senior-junior systems, and solidified classes.

Dragons beget dragons, phoenixes beget phoenixes; a councilor's son will mostly become a councilor, a president's child will also become a president.

Also emphasizing "harmonizing light with dust," must fit in, cannot stand out.

Clearly a modernized society, yet everywhere filled with feudal patriarchal, big-family patterns.

A bit like a strengthened combination of Yingdao and Hanming Kingdom.

If Sun Wukong came to this mission world, he'd probably wordlessly swing his staff and smash, smash heaven and earth overturned first.

Just highlighting two words: "irritable."

As for Zhu Bajie and Ao Yulie, honestly, Tang Luo felt these two's situation would be comparatively "not good."

If similar to his current predicament, at society's bottom, their "sober escape" should have no problem, merely a matter of time length, not to the point of sinking into depravity.

But if at society's upper layer, then it's over.

These two guys would most likely "hehe" start enjoying life, probably only at death's door would they go "ah, I don't want to die, turns out I'm XXX," finally breaking the cage, clearing clouds to see mist.

Bad luck, they'd probably just "die," not really die to the point of death, but start endless "reincarnation."

Worn away bit by bit until true death.

How can this do?

Tang Luo needs to find these two guys.

And Xiaotianquan, her situation Tang Luo really can't judge well, including whether other gods and demons entered this mission world together to complete tasks, also an unknown.

Fortunately Xiaotianquan didn't sign a team contract; her situation can even be understood as an unstowable "active equipment."

Completely following Tang Luo.

Once Tang Luo and them leave this mission world, she will certainly go together too.

No need to worry; as a cat, just selling meng and she'll live very well.

Others' situations unknown; this original host Tang Luo is completely confirmed to be an unfortunate guy, in an oppressive society, he belongs to the unfitting one.

Not saying he's very outstanding.

Original host's temperament somewhat gloomy, person also timid and shrinking, grades middle-lower, cannot get into good university, absolutely the type who cannot turn things around.

After high school graduation, being a corporate slave would already be thanking heaven and earth.

By reason, such a person wanting to stand out also can't stand out, thrown into a crowd can't be found, couldn't be more "fitting in."

The problem lies in, he has a head of conspicuous white hair.

Liang Feifan became monitor, picked him to establish authority, effect very good, over time original host became the bullying target.

Basically anyone can come step on him.

What unconditional errand-running, cleaning, and today's extortion.

Liang Feifan doesn't lack money; he's a certain big company boss's son, the so-called president's son.

A day's pocket money exceeds original host's month.

He wants "class fees," for fun, and to practice "art of controlling subordinates."

He'll return home to inherit family business later. To make most corporate slaves work well, create one or several lowest-status people in the company, let some produce superiority, or "good thing it's not me, my situation's okay" psychology, even become some people's venting channel.

Is a very necessary matter.

Liang Feifan thought, if this Tang Luo is "moldable material," after high school graduation let him work at father's company.

With his grades, graduating into big company or enterprise would definitely make him grateful.

"Class fees ah." Tang Luo said, "Hmm, I indeed need some money."

Always he begged alms, now someone begs alms onto his head...

Recalling, those petty thieves who robbed on the Journey West road, XX Village and what self-proclaimed green-forest heroes, endings all not too good.

"You want money?" Liang Feifan narrowed eyes, revealed cruel gaze, "If I didn't mishear, you mean you're asking us for money?"

"Right." Tang Luo directly slapped a palm over.

Pa-da a crisp sound, Liang Feifan's glasses flew into the side urinal.

Whole person dizzy, couldn't even say "you dare hit me."

Didn't wait for him to fall, Tang Luo another backhand slap, forcibly slapped the swaying him upright, didn't let him fall.

The three lackey little brothers beside Liang Feifan stared dumbfounded.

What situation, Tang Luo wants to rebel?

"You..." a little lamb suddenly revealed fangs, these people didn't know how to respond.

"Worldly morals decline, hearts not ancient."

Tang Luo's smile was radiant, revealing snow-white teeth. "The mortal world has been defiled once more..."

"Are you crazy!" someone couldn't help but shout, their voice trembling slightly.

Has this Tang Luo been driven mad by them?

Driven mad doesn't matter; Young Master Liang's influence is enough to handle it.

But the problem is, if a madman gets them killed, there'll be nowhere to seek justice.

Since ancient times, the aggressive fear the desperate, and the desperate fear those with nothing to lose.

A madman is precisely someone both desperate and with nothing to lose.

"The evil of this world shall be eliminated by this poor monk." Tang Luo answered irrelevantly, reaching out to grab the still-dazed Liang Feifan.

"Let him go!"

"What are you doing!"

The three lackeys shouted louder than each other, yet their feet were completely rooted to the spot.

That eerie smile on Tang Luo's face sent a chill straight to their hearts.

"Eat shit, Liang Feifan." Tang Luo hoisted Liang Feifan with one hand, glanced at the stall — very unfortunate.

This toilet was very clean; there was no "eats but doesn't flush" culprit.

So, Tang Luo tossed Liang Feifan into a row of long trough urinals.

Barely, he could fit inside.

"Aaaah!" Liang Feifan let out an extremely shrill and short scream.

This kind of urinal was certainly filthy; half his face was submerged in the urine mixture, and Liang Feifan twitched like a fish caught in a crevice.

The reason for the brevity need not be elaborated — the cost of opening his mouth to scream was too great.

"Your turn." Tang Luo looked at the remaining three.

Half a minute later, four people packed the urinals tight, looking exactly like some kind of performance art.

The innermost one, the most artistic Liang Feifan, could no longer bear this "heavy pressure," suffered severe internal trauma, and fainted.

"Remember to cough up all my money tomorrow, at ten times the amount." Tang Luo said to the four.

The original host's family was rather poor, truly not much money, living tight; it could use some improvement.

With a ready-made ATM right here, Tang Luo wouldn't go looking for the trouble of online loans or microloans.

Come to think of it, in a society like this, with all sorts of messy extremist organizations, whatever XX Association, XX Group, XX Gang, serving as chamber pots for big shots —

they're also fine withdrawal targets — not just money, but merit power as well.

Having dealt with these four campus bullying, violent idiots, Tang Luo headed straight for the broadcast room.

During the class break, the broadcast room was empty; the door was merely closed, not locked.

Tang Luo studied it briefly, then activated the broadcast: "Next, an emergency notice: Zhu Bajie, Ao Yulie, Xiaotianquan — you three, sober up for me!"

Finished speaking, Tang Luo left with a flourish before anyone else arrived.

This was already enough; the words they heard would have some effect.

If there's no effect, more words are useless; they'd need Master's "Sober-Up-on-the-Spot Fist" to work.

Amid the broadcast, several people climbed out of the urinals with difficulty.

"I want him dead! I want him dead!" Liang Feifan frantically washed his hair and face, scrubbing his face raw red, feeling like a layer of skin had been scrubbed off; only when the burning, stinging pain set in did he stop.

"Young Master Liang, let's tell the teacher..." a lackey said.

In this school, Liang Feifan could bully others, but others couldn't bully him.

The reason: look at his enrollment — his old man privately donated a new playground, and Liang Feifan's grades were enough to get into a prestigious university, adding glory to the school.

"Tell the teacher?" Liang Feifan snapped his head up, blood-red eyes staring at the man. "Tell the teacher we were stuffed into a toilet by that piece of trash?"

"Uh..."

This was indeed unspeakable, something that couldn't be told to a teacher.

Everyone cares about face; being stuffed into a urinal — how could those words leave their mouths?

Once it spreads, even if he is Liang Feifan, in this school he'd directly suffer "social death."

Of course, Tang Luo's fate wouldn't be good either.

But he, Liang Feifan, is porcelain — would he really go down together with a roof tile?

"Tomorrow, I'll deal with that bastard tomorrow!" Liang Feifan slammed the washbasin hard.

For the rest of the time, Liang Feifan and his three lackeys didn't come to class.

Tang Luo spent a peaceful day.

School ended; the school had no boarding, so Tang Luo returned home.

The original host's home was also a tragedy — a single-parent family; he followed his mother when his parents divorced. His old man was a degenerate gambler, an alcoholic, showing up every few days to harass them for money.

Beating and kicking the original host and his mother at the slightest provocation — both before and after the divorce.

Riding the bus, getting off, walking to the front door, Tang Luo saw an unkempt, alcohol-reeking middle-aged man sitting there, an empty liquor bottle beside him.

Still holding a bottle in his hand — the very cheap kind, harsh taste, high proof.

It was precisely the original host's old man, Tang Zaili.

"Little bastard, still know to come back?"

Seeing Tang Luo, Tang Zaili swayed to his feet and swung a slap.

The palm was still mid-air when Tang Luo lifted his foot and drove a solid kick into Tang Zaili's stomach.

Tang Zaili's whole body left the ground; he slammed heavily against the door, fell to the floor, curled up like a shrimp.

"Urgh!" Violent cramping pain in the abdomen forced Tang Zaili to open his mouth involuntarily.

He felt like his five viscera and six bowels were about to be vomited out.

The wine mixed with stomach acid was vomited out, and the air was filled with a nauseating sour stench.

Tang Luo frowned slightly, stepped on the drunken gambler on the ground, and rubbed him hard twice, using his clothes to wipe away the vomit.

Then he grabbed the man's calf and dragged him outside.

Finding a large trash can not far away and opening its lid, Tang Luo flicked his left hand and threw Tang Zaili directly into it.

Trash should stay with trash; unfortunately, there was no public restroom nearby, otherwise he could have been made to sober up.