Volume Two: The Youth of a Thousand Faces, True and False Chapter Fifty-Two: A Sky Ablaze with Stars

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“Sixty Golden Toad operatives have infiltrated, and the ensuing chaos is expected to last an hour and a half. They’ll begin withdrawing after that, but true lawlessness should only persist for about half an hour. Sneaking into the archives during that window… that’s going to be difficult.” Qi Mu weighed the information he’d gathered and came to this conclusion.

He had lost count of how many times he’d hired the Golden Toad under various aliases. Each time, they’d executed the mission flawlessly. Afterward, Qi Mu would collect and analyze all available data, calculating the Golden Toad’s operational efficiency, using it as a reference for future operations.

The reason the Golden Toad’s leader dared to accept his commissions was because Wang Zhe had presented credentials proving himself as an envoy of Qi Mu. Indeed, the Golden Toad’s leader was the type to take any job as long as the money was right, caring nothing for whether the employer was human or a Calamity.

Especially when the client was one of the Eleventh Calamity—then, the payment was always substantial.

Qi Mu himself possessed considerable assets in the human world, though they were scattered across countless accounts. To consolidate them under his current identity would require a lengthy process of financial maneuvering, leaving no trace behind.

This was why he needed Wang Zhe’s current resources, and why Wang Zhe had to be the one to hire the Golden Toad.

Wang Zhe was not entirely under control; it was as if a backdoor had been left in his mind. Qi Mu could maintain direct communication at any time, and should he desire, he could seize Wang Zhe’s consciousness and body instantly.

“There’s no time to lose. Let’s go.” Qi Mu put away his crystal brain, donned his hood and mask, and slipped into the throng.

On the main street, the Golden Toad mercenaries rampaged, destroying everything in their path: frozen fire hydrants, an electronics store ablaze, an entire block plunged into darkness. This was the destructive potential of Awakened in the era of supernatural abilities—and the reason why Awakened were strictly forbidden from attacking ordinary people. Once an Awakened turned their power on their own kind, they became no different from Calamities.

Few relished slaughtering civilians as much as Qi Suo. The Golden Toad’s mercenaries mostly battled the academy’s Awakened, focusing on public property rather than people. Should one of them kill a civilian, they might well be executed by their own comrades on the spot to prevent capture and exposure of the organization—a ruthless but effective means of self-preservation.

They reveled in their destruction, taunting as they chased: “Come on! Let’s have a good brawl! Aren’t you so-called geniuses? Why are you running?”

Bancroft’s students were not cowards. They simply had a duty to protect others. Even if they could fight, they could not risk pausing for battle; to do so might put civilians in harm’s way. They would only fight once evacuation was complete.

But the tree longs for stillness, while the wind will not cease.

Suddenly, a Golden Toad wind-element Awakened, swift as ever, stopped his rampage and darted toward a lagging little boy in the crowd, shouting, “Ha! I’ll take a hostage—let’s see if you’ll fight me now!”

“Quick! Protect that child!”

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Someone tried to reach the boy first, but none of them were wind or lightning users and couldn’t match the attacker’s speed.

Just as the wind-element Awakened’s fingers were about to touch the boy’s back, a crisp, clear sound rang out, accompanied by a voice as cool as first frost: “Two and one adds up to five.”

At that instant, a sharp icicle materialized behind the fleeing boy, shooting up from the ground, aimed squarely at the wind-user’s heart.

Sensing danger, the wind-user twisted away just in time.

But it wasn’t over…

“Eight minus two, carry one.”

“Nine up, four down, five carry one.”

…

With each line of abacus chant, a barrage of razor-sharp icicles followed.

The wind-user was left with countless cuts, panting as he wiped sweat from his brow, staring at the bespectacled man emerging from the corner.

The man held an abacus, wore black-rimmed glasses, and paid no attention to his surroundings or the enemy before him. He focused solely on his calculations, and only when the last bead settled did he look up at the Golden Toad mercenaries now watching him.

“Three million, six hundred and eighteen thousand, five hundred and ninety-nine Sola. That’s the projected damage you’ll cause Bancroft, calculated by my data model. I’ve already rounded down the decimals for you. If you can’t pay, I’m afraid you’ll have to stay.”

President of the Glacial Domain Society, Bancroft Student Council Treasurer, Qin Shiqian. He spoke with eyes narrowed in a perpetual smile.

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Inside the furniture store, three fire-element Awakened were gleefully torching expensive furniture, cursing as they went: “Burn it all! Damn it, a single chair costs nearly ten grand—are your asses made of gold?”

At that, a voice replied, “That’s going a bit too far, my friend.”

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A handsome young Taoist, dust whisk in hand, walked toward them. When twenty meters remained between them, he paused, bowed, and said, “I am Feng Wuming, the two hundred ninety-sixth disciple of the Pure Wind Monastery, currently serving as Bancroft Student Council’s Minister of Security and president of the Wind Chime Valley Society. I would appreciate it if you’d surrender peacefully—it would save me quite a bit of effort.”

Wind Chime Valley was the foremost of Bancroft’s seven great societies, and Feng Wuming its current leader.

The three Golden Toads sneered, about to retort, “And you think you can—?”

But the Taoist only chuckled, “A monk does not lie. I’ll be fighting all three of you. I may not win, but capturing you will be no trouble at all.”

Five minutes later, Feng Wuming emerged from the furniture store, dragging the three men securely bound in the myriad silver threads of his whisk. With a single palm strike, a rush of wind swept all heat from the building, snuffing out the flames in an instant.

“See? If you’d surrendered, it would have been so much easier. Now my whisk is ruined again.”

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Right now, Huo Ye’s feelings were complicated. If he had to describe it, it was like having a cat curled up in his lap: troublesome, yes, but you couldn’t bring yourself to push it away because you knew it clung to you out of affection.

Shangguan Yudie was that cat.

Of course, Shangguan Yudie wasn’t actually draped over Huo Ye’s lap—the author’s survival instincts were strong enough for that.

Huo Ye wanted to find a place to change. In his current identity as Night Rain and Cold Crow, his strength was only half of what it usually was. Bancroft was under attack, and at his own signing event, no less; he had every reason to fight, but it would be best to do so as Huo Ye, giving his all.

But Shangguan Yudie simply followed him in silence, as if she were there to protect him. Huo Ye was baffled—he was a grown man, after all. Admittedly, he couldn’t beat her if he used only his holy light abilities, but did he really need her protection?

He regretted it now—truly regretted it. He should never have sent his manuscript to the publisher. If only he hadn’t sent it… (But enough digression; use your imagination.)

(P.S.: Huo Ye, who could have been a dashing protagonist, has been handsome for a few chapters now. It’s time for his story to return to its usual, less-than-heroic style.)