High School of Demon Hunting

Chapter 1440: Chapter 187 Mismatch

Old Yao bit onto his pipe, glancing at her.

”Such matters... have been explicitly regulated in the school statutes. Members of the Professor Joint Meeting and major administrators of the academy are not permitted to interfere with the personnel arrangements of student autonomous organizations.” The Dean of Jiuyou Academy replied earnestly, ”So, I am not allowed to express my opinion on this matter.”

”Suppose...”

”I will not answer hypothetical questions.”

”Then what do you think...”

”There’s a saying called ’In the Dark Under the Lamp,’ which means, in other words, that I am always somewhat neglectful of the students at Jiuyou Academy. Thus, I don’t have many feelings on this matter.” The Professor was unwilling to give the female fortune-teller the slightest clue for her divination.

Zhu Ling paused for a moment and tried a different line of questioning, persistently inquiring, ”How about Alpha Academy? Which student from Alpha Academy do you prefer?”

”My preference doesn’t really matter,” Professor Yao finally came to a stop, choosing to end the conversation, ”But as far as I know, the students of Alpha Academy seem to favor a little fellow named Sepulano... Alright, let’s stop this topic here. You should go register now.”

With that said, he pushed open the black door beside him, making a welcoming gesture.

Suddenly, light flooded into the eyes of the young Hunters.

Behind the door, there was a spacious and bright hall. Its ceiling was so high it was out of sight, with a void above that held twinkling stars; the ground was a shining brass floor adorned with delicate runes, with silvery-white magic power occasionally flashing between the lines.

Numerous thick candles hung upside down in the void, casting patches of orange light that enveloped the entire hall in hues reminiscent of twilight.

At the end of the hall sat several giant entities of varied heights ranging from tens to hundreds of meters. They were draped in wide Wizard Robes, sitting casually, emitting soft seven-colored radiance all over like hills. Wizards standing at the feet of these ’hills’ couldn’t make out their faces even when they craned their necks.

Zhang Boren caught a glimpse of the Big Wizards revealing their True Forms in front of them was a huge platter with whole King squids and Qiulong, marinated in sauce. The Big Wizards casually tore off legs from the dragons, chewing leisurely, the concept of strength embodied in the pervasive scent of blood compelled the brawny Hunter to swallow his saliva unconsciously.

In the center of the hall, there was a row of black stone platforms with railings embedded, resembling bank counters.

There were dozens of windows at the counters.

In front of each window stood a long queue, orderly arranged and slowly moving.

Every person in line was a Wizard, donning black or gray Wizard’s Robes, some even wearing colorful pointed hats. There were no pets running around, nor Wizards chatting loudly.

Apart from the Big Wizards snacking, the entire hall seemed orderly, quiet, and silent.

”You belong to the last group to report,” said the Professor standing behind the young Wizards, adding, ”Most of the time, the Divination Group will assign tasks to Hunting teams as independent units... But this is war, where it is inevitable for any team to suffer damages.”

”The Divination Group will be closely monitoring any damaged Hunting teams, ’mismatching’ them organically to ensure they retain their full combat strength to the greatest extent possible.”

”So, you will need to register your specialties, tiers, and the time when you received your registration certificate here, to enrich the information of the Divination Group... Now, go and register in the queue according to your respective categories.”

After finishing, the Professor’s figure suddenly vanished on the spot.

A few young Wizards looked at each other.

Dwarf Balin was the first to leave the Hunting team and rush towards the queue that was clearly formed of dwarves, giants, and gnomes.

...

...

While deep within Black Prison Castle, Professor Yao and several young Hunters returned from the New World were discussing candidates for the new Lei Zhe and Augustus.

First University, Alpha Fortress.

In the private lounge of the Karen Family, Sir Friedman was also preparing a letter that was obviously ’misaligned’:

”There are such people, ordinary and plain, not standing out in the slightest.”

”Not tall nor short, neither fat nor thin, neither beautiful nor ugly, neither famous nor nameless, just like a gear on a machine, dazzling to the eye but yet drowned out in a sea of its kind.”

”This state is called mediocrity.”

”Mediocre people must be good-tempered, because if you are hot-tempered, it is hard for you to remain mediocre. As your temper would make you stick out like a sore thumb.”

”Mediocre people also have a stable character. They like their lives calm and steady, regular and peaceful. They will never, like moths to a flame, throw themselves into danger.”

”Mediocre people always do things within their field of vision. Their sights never go beyond the world they can calculate. They always like to do things with predictable consequences. Just like me, I always know what the consequences of my next action will be, like the outcome of you reading this letter.”

”With this mindset, mediocre people will not achieve great things in their lifetime. At best, they follow the rules, get the title of a Registered Wizard, have an ordinary marriage, live an insipid life, and then leave this world quietly.”

”For many people, this kind of life is wonderful, worth longing for.”

”Likewise, for many, this kind of life is utterly despairing.”

”A lifetime is really short. Even if you are a Big Wizard, life is just three to five thousand years short. To any kind of the Long-Lived, this span is rather meager; to the vast universe, to the endless unknown, this period of time is beyond comparison.”

”Inconspicuous.”

”Or rather, apart from yourself, no one knows that you once came to this world.”

”When your consciousness blurs, who will know that there once was a person in this world, who had some splendid thoughts? When you turn into a handful of dust, the crawling creatures burrowing in and out of your body cannot touch the spark that once flickered in your mind.”

”Whenever I think of this, I always shudder.”

”The Family hopes that I can take on the Glory Under the Moon, but I know that I am but a mediocre existence, fond of stability and clarity.”

”Glory does not belong to the mediocre.”

”Therefore, glory does not belong to me.”

Standing in front of the desk, Sir Friedman with one hand in his coat pocket and the other hand on the back of a chair, gazed at a sunflower oil painting hanging on the wall, murmuring an introspective self-analysis that almost completely contradicted his own person, yet narrated by himself.

There were significant problems with the entirety of the letter.

But the message the letter intended to convey could be understood even by an elementary school student.