# 64
**Chapter 64: Settled**
Creak—!
The auditorium doors swung open once more. Lin Qiye stepped out slowly, black case in hand.
Hongying, perched on a nearby stair, waved with a grin. “All done?”
“Mm.”
“Good.” She nodded, hesitated, then couldn’t help asking, “So… why didn’t you let me step in?”
“He was my classmate. Killing him myself… was the least I could do.” Lin Qiye said flatly.
Hongying blinked. “Killing him yourself… counts as doing right by him? What kind of logic is that?”
Si Xiaonan shot him a sideways glance and muttered, “Psycho…”
Lin Qiye was, of course, talking nonsense. If Hongying had acted, she’d have blown the snake demon away with one shot, leaving him no chance to land the finishing blow—nor for Li Yifei to be reborn inside the Asylum of the Gods.
“Still, thanks to you we didn’t get fooled. First-class merit when we get back!” Hongying gave a thumbs-up.
“What about the students inside?” Lin Qiye jerked his head toward the auditorium.
“Let them stay put. Soon someone’ll come use Dream Whisper—wipe every memory of the snake demon and you, then weave them a nice dream.”
“How do we explain the dead students?” he couldn’t help asking. “And the building you blew a hole through?”
“Not our headache. The proper department will spin it—lab explosion, big fire, terrorist bombing, alien invasion…”
“…You sure that last one’s ‘reasonable’?”
“More than ‘mythical monsters showed up’.”
“Fair.”
Hongying bit her lip, eyes dropping. “…Too many kids died. My fault…”
“Sister Hongying, how’s that on you?” Si Xiaonan comforted. “Most were seeded long ago. Without you, the toll would’ve been worse.” She glanced at Lin Qiye and added quietly, “And you—hate to admit it—but you were amazing…”
Lin Qiye: …
“By the way, I met a really sharp kid, fascinated by mythic creatures. Can we recruit him into Night Watch?” Lin Qiye suddenly asked.
An Qingyu’s parting request inside the hall.
Hongying hesitated. “Qiye, Night Watch… isn’t for smart alone. It’s dangerous. You get me?”
Lin Qiye nodded and let it drop.
He’d done what he could; he wasn’t even a full member himself. No point pressing.
“Let’s roll.” Hongying stood, slung her gun-case over her back, and headed for the gate.
Lin Qiye cast one last look at the auditorium and followed.
Inside the hall.
An Qingyu, still behind the door, eyes dimmed.
Then his gaze fell on the Nanda snake-demon’s corpse nearby.
He frowned, thinking hard—until resolve flashed again in his eyes!
…
Outside the school gate.
Beside a black van, two men leaned against the doors, watching the silent campus.
Chen Muye’s earpiece crackled. He raised a brow. “It’s over. They’re coming out.”
Wu Xiangnan’s face darkened. “Why’d she only tell you, not me?”
“I’m the captain.”
“I’m the vice-captain!”
“You keep clashing with Hongying.”
“I follow protocol.”
“Too rigid.” Chen Muye shook his head, smirking. “That’s why she likes me better.”
“…We’re not talking about which parent the kid prefers. Why do you sound weird?” Wu Xiangnan rolled his eyes.
“Same idea.”
A pause, then Chen Muye spoke again. “Heard Lin Qiye aced this one.”
“Yeah.”
“First mission—shouldn’t we celebrate?”
“Like?”
“Banner, cake, the works.”
“…” Wu Xiangnan sighed.
“What?”
“You look like a parent about to pick up the kid who just topped the grade—pride written all over your face…”
“Feels good, though.”
Just then Wen Qimo in the driver’s seat rolled down the window. “Enough drama, you two. Pick-up after a job, not a soap opera…”
“Where’s Leng Xuan?”
“Who knows. He vanishes.”
“Figures…”
While they bickered, three figures emerged. Hongying spotted them from afar and jumped, waving.
Si Xiaonan sneakily wiped some of Lin Qiye’s blood onto her own face like war-paint, chin high: I wasn’t slacking!
Lin Qiye’s uniform was soaked crimson, unrecognizable. He squinted ahead, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
“Hurt?” Chen Muye asked when he reached them.
“No.” Lin Qiye shook his head.
“How’d it feel?”
“Easier than I expected.”
Chen Muye chuckled. “Good. Load up, we’re heading back.”
“Captain! You didn’t even ask about me!” Hongying pouted, hands on hips.
“You?” Wu Xiangnan glanced over. “Be grateful the school’s still standing. Why ask?”
Hongying ground her teeth. “Did I ask you? You’re not the captain!”
“I’m vice-captain—still counts.”
“Doesn’t!”
“Does!”
“Does NOT!!”
“…”
…
Click.
A crisp shutter. A photo slid from the bottom of a scope, lifted by careful fingers.
On a nearby rooftop, Leng Xuan sat on the ledge, gently waving the print until the image sharpened.
Breeze stirred his bangs as he studied the shot, a faint smile curling.
“…Nice one.”
He tucked the photo into a box like treasure, pocketed it, stood, and slung his sniper rifle over his shoulder—then strode into the night.