High School of Demon Hunting

Chapter 1554: Chapter 298: The World Behind the Door

Turtle-shell inkstone, Pine Script Ink, soft purple hair brush, Yellow Paper.

And then add a red paper position.

Along with the blood drops squeezed out from his freshly cut finger, Zheng Qing quickly drew a high-level Forgetting Rune, wrapped it into a Fu Bullet, and stuffed it into the Charm Gun.

Immediately, a new slender tube appeared in the Sea of Consciousness, one end connecting to the cyan air mass, and the other to the tail of the Fu Bullet. Violent Magic Power surged wave after wave, visibly flowing into the Fu Bullet.

Zheng Qing felt the swelling pain in his mind gradually lessening.

”This should be enough, right?” He rubbed his sore and swollen forehead and looked at the blurry face behind the door. ”So, what’s next? Should I just shoot you in the head?”

The suggestion was a bit cold.

”In theory, it doesn’t necessarily have to hit the head... Any part of my body will suffice.” The old mansion’s owner wasn’t angered by the young wizard’s blunt words and spoke with remarkable magnanimity. ”However, before that, something is still missing.”

”Missing what?”

”Old-school wizards, like me, when we perform unfamiliar experiments and are about to complete them, we tend to place our last shred of hope in some great and mysterious existence. So, at this moment, we would typically clasp our hands together and silently recite in our hearts—May Merlin bless us, and let this Fu Bullet have a miraculous effect.”

”At this hour,” Zheng Qing pulled out his pocket watch, glanced at the time, and curled his lips. ”Merlin is probably snoring or grinding his teeth, too busy to bother with insignificant prayers like ours.”

”Merlin snores too?” Zhu Si curled up in Jiang Yu’s arms, curiously looking at the witch.

While Jiang Yu was still pondering how to accurately and appropriately answer the question, Xin Fat Man, standing nearby, seized the opportunity to solve the problem for her.

”Of course,” the Fat Man patted his big belly and answered earnestly. ”Many people have heard it... it’s said that Merlin’s snoring sounds like a raven being boiled in a cauldron.”

”Wow.” The Little Witch widened her eyes and made a meaningless exclamation. It was unclear whether she was marveling at the fact that a Big Wizard like Merlin snored or at the surprising fact that the Fat Man knew such obscure trivia.

Zheng Qing also exclaimed inwardly, but his amazement was directed at the Fat Man’s talent for linking everything to food.

On the surface, however, he didn’t engage with the Little Witch’s topic but, instead, complied with the old mansion’s owner’s wishes. Patiently clasping his hands together, he murmured ’May Merlin bless us’ repeatedly, silently reciting the phrase over and over.

Beside him, the thin and soft tentacle, which had sprouted two branching tips at some point, also made clasping gestures. Seven or eight mouths on the tentacle chanted in unison, their black eyes gazing into the oppressive night sky with unwavering piety.

Strangely, Zheng Qing felt a pang of pity for the Black Wizard he’d heard about in rumors.

But he quickly shook off the faint disruption in his heart and regained focus. After all, compared to this ancient Elder Wizard, it was evident that young wizards like them were in far greater danger.

Having finished praying, Zheng Qing once again picked up the Charm Gun in his hands, aimed at the blurry face behind the door, and steadied his grip.

”Just shoot, right?” He narrowed one eye and instinctively asked, but a memory of the forest that had been flattened not long ago surfaced in his mind.

Zheng Qing couldn’t help but worry—would one shot collapse the towering Kela Mountain before him?

”Yes, you can,” the blurry face behind the door extended further outward as if reassuring the young wizard. ”Aim carefully. Don’t worry about my safety... it’s just a Fu Bullet that acts on the Soul.”

”We’re not concerned about your safety,” the Diviner of Absolution replied on Zheng Qing’s behalf, voicing the unease in his heart. ”What worries us is if something goes wrong, how will we find the path up the mountain?”

This explanation sounded somewhat cold.

Zheng Qing quickly added, ”Of course, if nothing goes wrong, that would be ideal.”

The blurry face behind the door tilted slightly to one side, its expression seemingly puzzled. ”The path up the mountain... and the way home, it’s already hidden beneath the pea at the bottom of the mushroom soup cauldron. Didn’t I already tell you?”

Xiao Xiao stepped forward, drawing attention from both the old mansion’s owner and his companions, then walked directly to the pitch-black cauldron. He crouched down and brushed the cauldron with his Feather Pen.

The vibrant green feather effortlessly passed through the cauldron’s obsidian wall, as though it had pierced through mere illusion.

Zheng Qing furrowed his brows.

Although he’d anticipated that the old mansion’s owner wouldn’t let them retrieve the pea so easily, discovering the ever-present cauldron to be an illusion was still somewhat unexpected.

”What does this mean?” The young Hunting Team Leader lowered his gaze to the seven or eight pitch-black eyes on the tentacle beside him, asking calmly.

The mouths on the tentacle chattered in disarray:

”The prisoner’s dilemma... None of them believe the other will think for others; everyone is living in their own best interest!”

”The allure of magic! Only when you’ve fully met my conditions and purified the contamination can you obtain the pea.”

”It’s not about fairness; this is merely a touch of old-age wisdom for survival.”

”But just as I have no choice... neither do you really have more choices.”

”Perhaps everything is just destiny’s malicious joke!”

Zheng Qing ignored the frenziedly twisting tentacle within his sight, blocked out the ear-piercing noise around him, and settled his gaze on Xiao Xiao. ”What’s your opinion?”

Dr. Xiao was silent for a few seconds before nodding. ”Shoot.”

Without further ado, Zheng Qing pulled the trigger decisively.

Bam!

The short and sturdy barrel of the Remington flashed with alternating light and shadow, its engraved runes flickering between gold and silver. The freshly crafted Fu Bullet burst out of the barrel, streaked with a trace of blood and a faint green hue, heading straight toward the blurry face beyond the door.

Smack!

The mansion’s main door swung open with a bang. Although it lasted only a fleeting moment, Zheng Qing seemed to glimpse a vast world hidden behind the door—a world in which a massive and twisted dark silhouette loomed, tens of thick tentacles flailing wildly, reaching out to meet the incoming point of faint green from beyond the door.

The blurry face and the thin tentacle, which had been interacting with Zheng Qing and his companions, appeared like a mere air root hanging over the waterside from an enormous banyan tree.

The vision vanished in an instant.

The Fu Bullet, carrying its green hue, plunged through the mansion’s open door.

Bang!

The door slammed shut with a gust of wind, following the trajectory of the Fu Bullet, and closed heavily. It startled the young cost students, who had been stunned by the sight of the vast world and the imposing silhouette—a sharp thud that echoed like the slam of a judge’s gavel, suppressing the otherwise restless night’s air.

The courtyard was plunged into utter stillness; even the bubbling broth in the cauldron seemed to temper its temperament.