After the performance, the theater lights dimmed to a soft glow. Onstage, the spotlight slowly narrowed, leaving only faint halos drifting across the stage—mysterious, intoxicating, and turbulent.
Lan Qi thought for a moment, then decided to seize the opportunity to ask the Music Department Head some questions.
Of course, he couldn’t be as blunt as he had been with Bacher—he couldn’t just outright ask, “Has something happened at the academy?”
That would only raise suspicion.
Instead, he chose a casual, reasonable approach:
“By the way, Director, when will the Headmaster be coming back?”
“Hard to say. A few days ago, after a high-level meeting here at the academy, the Headmaster went to the Demon Realm’s Ministry of Education. But don’t worry—the school can function normally. For most matters that require signatures and seals, the Vice Headmaster can handle them.”
The Director shook his head as he replied.
“A high-level meeting? Is something happening at the school?”
Lan Qi muttered, his tone one of idle curiosity, as though he wasn’t trying to pry at all.“Every time there’s one of those closed-door meetings, with only the Headmaster, Vice Headmaster, and a handful of senior professors, it means there’s some kind of problem. But don’t think too much about it. It’s not something we can control. And don’t worry too much either—this is a prestigious academy backed by several alumni who are Great Demon Nobles. As long as we follow the rules, not even the Ministry of Education would dare meddle recklessly.”
In the Demon Realm, to be called a “Great Demon Noble” meant being at least Rank Eight—a position of enormous power, each one holding weight across the realm.
The Director couldn’t say for certain whether this Radiant Demon standing before him might one day grow into such a being—bearing a unique title and name known across the Demon Realm.
“Oh, oh, I see.”
Lan Qi nodded quickly.
Still, he suspected that the danger mentioned in Mission Objective 2—“tonight’s threat”—was most likely tied to the content of that high-level meeting.
But—
To uncover more crucial details, he’d probably need to tackle a Level-3 difficulty classroom, where the teachers were of a higher rank.
And he and Huperion alone wouldn’t be enough. They would have to share and exchange intel with the other four challengers if they hoped to unravel the truth behind this high-stakes objective. That was the essence of the challenge in this Fourth-Tier Shadow World.
Of course, there also seemed to be another unexpected path opening before Lan Qi—
If he could somehow integrate into the academy’s upper echelons,
he might be able to skip all the complicated investigation entirely.
Unfortunately—
He only had ten more hours left in this academy.
Trying to climb the ranks within that short time would be difficult.
…
After chatting a bit more with the Director, Lan Qi turned back toward the audience, his eyes settling on Huperion.
“Huperion, it’s your turn to perform!”
He waved cheerfully, inviting her onto the stage.
“Coming.”
Her voice was low.
She rose slowly from her seat, straightening her back, and strode with determination across the “musical hell” that Lan Qi had created.
The music in the classroom was still terrifying, battering her eardrums and tearing at her nerves.
And yet, to her surprise—she felt she had found a kind of balance in this endless torment.
Even more startling, she realized she might have actually developed some degree of resistance to sonic magic after enduring Lan Qi’s military-style “training” in this classroom.
On stage, the Music Department Head resumed his role as host of the performance exam.
He had no desire to entertain Lan Qi’s antics any longer; he just wanted this troublesome student gone as quickly as possible.
Still, since the classroom had descended into utter chaos—and since the number of music mentors had changed to five—he needed to explain the new conditions to Huperion.
The entire classroom had now entered an automated loop.
The slumbering Sound Spirits were caught in a cycle of fainting and waking. No matter what the students performed, they would be “recognized”—since the spirits always fell asleep during the act.
And as a music mentor, Lan Qi had already declared to the Director that his philosophy was one of great love and inclusiveness. In other words, he would respect any form of art.
Which meant—so long as a student could make a sound on stage, he would recognize them.
Thus, the performers now had at least two guaranteed approvals.
And so—
A new phase began.
Huperion stepped onto the stage, the audience’s infernal screaming pressing down on her from all directions. She grit her teeth and began to sing.
“Your singing is so beautiful, truly heavenly!”
Lan Qi’s shameless flattery rang out immediately, and with that, Huperion passed the exam.
“?!”
Huperion was dumbfounded. She couldn’t believe he could say such things with a straight face.
Expression stiff as stone, she returned to the audience, dragged Bacher onto the stage, and left him there to howl incoherently like a seizure patient for two minutes.
“Perfect! Absolutely perfect!”
With Lan Qi—the only clear-headed evaluator—praising him, Bacher too passed the exam.
Bacher himself had no idea how he’d qualified.
…
At long last, the final ten minutes of torment came to an end.
The Demon King’s Gifted Theater, steeped in musical hell, had concluded its very first lesson.
The tolling of an ancient bell signaled the end of class. Its resonance seemed to pierce through the entire structure of Purgatory Cloister Academy, echoing across every hallway and classroom.
This was the first thirty-minute break.
And yet, strangely—right after dismissal, the broad corridor outside was empty. Not a single student in sight.
Only after a while did three students finally stagger out from the main doors.
These were the only survivors of Classroom G24—the Demon King’s Gifted Theater.
One of them was dragged out like a corpse.
…
Meanwhile, in Corridor F13—
[Time Remaining: 9 hours 59 minutes]
[Mission Objective 1: Reach over 60% Academy Exploration, Current Progress: 10%]
[…]
A young man frowned at the 10% figure.
“By logic, each classroom with one seal mark should increase exploration by 1%. And clearing it should add another 1%. So we contributed 2%.”
“Then why is it already at 10%?”
He muttered in confusion.
Could it be that the other two teams contributed 4% each, and only their group was lagging?
Or… did a single team somehow contribute a full 6%?
“Brother… could it be that someone powerful was matched into the same world as us?”
The girl beside him—who had been quietly praying and repenting—finally raised her gaze to ask.
“…”
The young man pressed his lips together and shook his head.
“This kind of grotesque, twisted evil theme is one of the most dangerous types of Fourth-Tier Shadow Worlds. Normal humans can’t possibly adapt to the ethics and rules of the ancient Demon Realm. Even among Gold-ranked challengers, almost none specialize in demon-type Shadow Worlds.”
And for the two of them, devout Silver-ranked challengers who worshiped gods of Order and Goodness, this was even more unbearable. To disguise themselves as demons, to mimic their behavior—it was torment to their very souls.
The girl listened, then inhaled sharply, fear creeping into her eyes.
“Don’t tell me… a real demon has mixed in among the challengers?”