High School of Demon Hunting

Chapter 1872: Chapter 93: The Night Before (Part 2)

The muzzle of the Remington was only a foot away from Professor Yao’s chest.

As he pulled the trigger, Zheng Qing envisioned countless possible outcomes — like the Fu Bullet being intercepted by the professor’s finger before hitting his chest; or the Fu Bullet hitting the professor’s chest with as little impact as a speck of dust falling onto water; or perhaps the professor suddenly revealing his true form with three heads and eight arms, swallowing the Fu Bullet whole.

Of course, the last possibility was extremely low.

The one thing he hadn’t anticipated was that the Fu Bullet never hit the professor. The pale blue shot left the gun muzzle, shooting straight ahead like a meteor, yet no matter how fast it was, it always stayed more than a foot away from Professor Yao’s chest.

It was as if the space in front of the professor’s chest was a vast universe.

While the Fu Bullet resembled a tiny bug trapped in amber.

The rushing Fu Bullet and the relatively static state were simultaneously visible to Zheng Qing, causing a misaligned sensation that gave rise to an inescapable urge to vomit. He felt the world in every direction swiftly receding from him, yet simultaneously he was acutely aware that he was still standing in place, unchanged were the walls around him, the floor tiles beneath his feet, and the professor in front of him.

Pop.

Once the aura of the Forbidden Spell was exhausted, the pale blue Fu Bullet shattered like a bubble, transforming into a thin mist of light and ultimately vanishing a foot away between Zheng Qing and the professor.

Professor Yao clicked his tongue as if savoring something.

”How does it feel?” Before the student could gather his thoughts, the professor asked directly, ”Compared to before, did you experience anything special when firing this time?”

Zheng Qing hesitated, looking down at the Charm Gun in his hand, and after a pause, murmured, ”It feels very clean.”

Previously, whenever he fired, there would always be a trace of Forbidden Spell aura escaping from the gun, but this time, the aura that did escape was absorbed by the skull on the gun, conveying an unexpectedly refreshing sensation.

Hearing the young student’s assessment, the professor nodded, ”Indeed, it’s much cleaner than before. If there are no other concerns, I suggest you reconsider accepting this Charm Gun. After all, a gun is merely a tool, carrying no inherent morality...”

...

...

”Was it just to return the Charm Gun to you?”

Xiao Xiao suddenly interjected, interrupting Zheng Qing’s recollection of the conversation and the shot from the night before, his slightly squinted eyes filled with confusion, ”If it was just to return the gun, then why did you turn into a cat? Cat paws can’t hold guns.”

While speaking, the two had already arrived at the Flying Garden for their morning lessons, surrounded by an exuberant, lively atmosphere buzzing around the warlocks, nurturing a vigorous vitality.

Zheng Qing was caught off guard by the doctor’s question, standing there in a daze for a few seconds before mumbling, ”Turning into a cat... turning into a cat was because some Big Cats were fighting near the Cat Fruit Tree, and as an arbitrator on the Cat Fruit Tree, I had to maintain justice... as they say, with great power comes great responsibility...”

He didn’t clarify how he knew about the Big Cats fighting on the Cat Fruit Tree, nor did he explain the consequences of the fight or how he ’maintained justice.’

Because there wasn’t any incident of Big Cats fighting last night at all.

After bidding farewell to Professor Yao, the young cost student dashed down to an empty spell training room, broke off the ampoule bottle’s cap, and without even taking the time to ’neutralize’ the effects with another drink, he gulped down the Transformation Potion straight away.

Before the class meeting started, he discreetly passed a ’little mouse’ to the witch sitting in the front row of the classroom, inviting her to meet at the Cat Fruit Tree that night. Although there was no specific time or place written on the note, only a hasty and cryptic simple sketch, the warlock felt inexplicably certain that the witch would know what he meant.

But after the class meeting, being delayed by Old Yao had caused the warlock’s schedule to become exceptionally tight, making it very likely for him to be late and thus be regarded by the witch as standing her up.

That certainly wouldn’t look good.

Moments later, a black cat darted out of the spell training room’s window, sprinting along the narrow pathway in the little garden in front of the teaching building, and swiftly heading towards the small forest by the lake.

Lin Zhong Lake was still very quiet before the semester started; because of the return of the wizards, the Fishmen in the lake began to reduce their presence again, and the lakeside night patrol hadn’t resumed, making the black cat’s passage quite unimpeded.

Standing beneath the tree, the black cat looked up at the various sizes of Cat Fruits hanging from the branches, and at the Little White Cat lying idly on the ’throne,’ originally tense tip of its tail relaxed and drooped down.

Then, it gave a soft cough and started climbing slowly towards the tree with dignified and serious steps.

The fluff balls on the Cat Fruit Tree lazily reclined on the branches as usual, licking their fur under the moonlight, purring intermittently. The only difference from the norm was that tonight was ’tribute’ night again.

As an informally organized ’group,’ Zheng Qing managed the fur-bearing creatures on the Cat Fruit Tree with extreme leniency. As long as they behaved themselves and didn’t cause trouble, the warlock wouldn’t bother them, and rituals like triple ceremonies and ice or carbon respects were of no concern.

But last night was slightly special.

With the approach of the new semester, some cats left the Cat Fruit Tree and new cats arrived. The new cats had to pay their respects with tributes when they arrived, bringing offerings to the tree elder—this behavior by the new cats prompted the old cats on the tree to reminisce about being under the black cat’s rule and follow suit in tribute.

This created a recurring habit of ’tribute’ among the cat colony at the beginning of each semester.

Noticing the arrival of the black cat, the ’fruits’ in the tree gradually rose, each carrying their respective gifts according to status, crawling and offering tribute before the throne.

After more than a year of training, no cat dared to challenge the black cat’s authority on the Cat Fruit Tree anymore. Even the newly arrived kittens couldn’t afford to provoke the forest cat on the tree, let alone challenge the black cat’s standing.

Similar to last time, the tributes from the cat colony were once again a mishmash.

The most abundant offerings were strange little animals, such as six-legged fish, centipedes with wings, feather-plucked skylarks, and multicolored blister beetles.

The black cat carefully separated these trembling creatures under its paws to pick out another set of useful items for itself from among the tributes—like rusty bronze objects unearthed from the ground, possibly the work of some alchemist; a notebook soaked by moisture, which might contain the study notes of a senior alumnus; and various gemstones, which were the most economical gift.

The black cat’s paw sifted through the small pile of gemstones.

There was a porcupine bezoar with detoxifying effects but too ugly; a sunflower stone, brilliantly golden but too small, only a few grains of rice in size, given by a small cat the size of a palm, perfectly matching its figure; and an emerald with fitting color, luster, and size, but redundant since it was similar to the last gift.

After much deliberation, the black cat finally selected a light blue Cat’s Eye Stone.

Weighing it at the tip of its paw, the black cat nodded with satisfaction, then nonchalantly pushed it in front of the Little White Cat. The Little White Cat tilted its head to glance at the black cat, curled its lips, then used its paw to sweep the entire pile of gemstones to itself.

The black cat’s expression froze momentarily, then turned away with a somber heaviness, staggering towards its throne, where it reclined with a long sigh at the moon, speechless and silent.