Chapter 38: The Hour of the Demon

The victory of their university basketball team had the students of Yanda University buzzing with excitement for several days, all of them exulting in the outcome. Although none of the current students had been direct witnesses to the events of several years prior, the arrogance of the Polytechnic University team was notorious. United by a common enemy, the fruits of victory tasted all the sweeter.

Xiao Xiao was naturally happy as well, especially since he had played a part in that victory. Even if it remained unknown to others, it gave him a secret sense of satisfaction—the feeling of being "the only one awake while everyone else is drunk." Especially when he saw his roommate’s oblivious expression, he found it difficult to keep his own face straight.

However, Xiao Xiao gritted his teeth, wishing he could take a giant hammer and smash his own head. He had no interest in the noble pursuit of ascetics who sought enlightenment through suffering, so he pleaded: "Great Scroll of Monsters, can’t you just put an end to this headache?" He rubbed the uniquely textured cover of the Scroll of Monsters, hoping it would display its great power. Even if it couldn't fully cure his pain, a little relief would be welcome. Unfortunately, no matter how persistently he stroked the scroll, top to bottom, left to right, it remained completely uncooperative. It showed no reaction at all, as if to say, "Let the winds blow from every direction; I remain unmoved."

Xiao Xiao’s brow twitched; he felt as if his brain were aching to the point of madness. He let out a long, weary sigh and recited to himself, "When Heaven is about to confer a great office upon a man, it first exercises his mind with suffering, fatigues his sinews and bones, exposes his body to hunger, subjects him to extreme poverty, and thwarts his every endeavor, so as to stimulate his mind, harden his nature, and improve his deficiencies."

...

Having finally survived the most agonizing few days, his headache had not yet fully subsided, but Xiao Xiao felt sore and stiff from resting too much; he simply could not take it anymore. In truth, after several days of pain, he had grown accustomed to it. *Wait, why does that sound so masochistic?* In any case, he had fully mastered the art of appearing calm and tranquil on the outside while a storm raged within.

...

The sun was setting, casting a dim, ambiguous yellow light across the world, with broad streaks of sunset bleeding into a faint, crimson, withered-flower hue. Xiao Xiao wandered through the campus in flip-flops, his hands buried deep in his pockets, exuding an air of listlessness and lethargy.

...

*Oh? Isn't this what they call the "hour of the demon"?* Xiao Xiao thought absentmindedly, his gaze sweeping casually over the distant horizon. Looking at it this way, it truly felt a bit eerie. He avoided the throngs of people; it was the peak hour for classes to let out, and everywhere he looked, there was a sea of heads, his ears filled with a constant, buzzing cacophony of chatter and laughter. Having spent the last few days in his room cultivating his spirit, Xiao Xiao frowned at the noise. He walked faster, not paying attention to his direction, simply heading wherever there were fewer people. Soon, he left the clamor behind, the sounds fading into a faint, indistinct murmur.

...

The world seemed to have been painted with heavy, thick ink, and the suffocating tone felt inexplicably oppressive. Xiao Xiao rubbed his throbbing temples, deciding he should just head back—this was hardly a good time for a stroll. Just as he was about to turn around, his nose twitched. A scent, at once strange and familiar, drifted through the air.

*Is this... the smell of blood?*

Xiao Xiao had a bad premonition. It seemed today was truly not a day for going out. *If you have a headache, you should just rest in your room. Why act crazy and run around outside?* Despite the complaint, Xiao Xiao followed the faint, lingering scent of blood. He was not cold-blooded enough to turn a blind eye when he knew something was wrong.

...

He was in an alley behind the school, a place rarely visited. The deep, narrow passage was swallowed by shadows that seemed to have no end; all light appeared to stop abruptly at its entrance, the boundary between light and dark both clear and blurred.

"Tch, I didn't know there was such a gloomy, ghostly place near the school," Xiao Xiao muttered, his lip curling, though his nerves were pulled taut. Here, the stench of blood was so thick it was nauseating. The source of the smell was somewhere within the alley.

...

Xiao Xiao irritably ran a hand through his hair. His pale face bore a look of weariness and gloom, but then, his expression gradually settled, his features sharpening into a cold, hard focus. His eyes, already dark and quiet, grew even deeper, with a faint, fleeting glimmer of gold flashing in the depths of his pupils. He walked into the alley with his hands in his pockets.

The ambiguous, fading warmth of the setting sun remained behind him, peeling away from his body. Ghostly, chilling air clawed at him, gradually covering him and seeping into his very marrow. The darkness of the alley posed no obstacle to Xiao Xiao. In his field of vision, everything in the alley was revealed in sharp detail. An old, rusted trash can, dented in the middle as if someone had kicked it, sat on the ground alongside a few scattered cigarette butts and scraps of garbage. A foul, rotting smell emanated from it. Everything seemed perfectly ordinary. Yet, the scent of blood that lingered in his nose constantly reminded him that something was definitely wrong.

...

Xiao Xiao scanned his surroundings, his eyes gleaming in the dark. Suddenly, he paused. He stepped forward and crouched down. There were a few dried, dark stains—so inconspicuous that most people would ignore them, perhaps assuming they were just water or spilled drinks. But Xiao Xiao’s sensitive nose told him that these patches exuded a heavy, iron-rich scent of blood.

*These are... bloodstains!*

...

Xiao Xiao suddenly recalled the fierce monster he had seen in the gymnasium. That night, after returning to his room, the first thing he did was pull out the Scroll of Monsters to see what kind of creature it was. On the yellowed paper, written in vivid cinnabar, a strange aura permeated the air. The cinnabar seemed to flow, and a monster, resembling a bird of prey, leaped off the page. A single horn sat atop its head, curved into a hideous arc, reflecting a sharp, cold light that shimmered with streaks of blood-colored shadows. Two strange, archaic characters appeared beneath it: *Gu Diao*.

...

Whether it was because the Scroll of Monsters had leveled up or for some other reason, the information it provided was more detailed than before. Beyond the monster's name, Xiao Xiao was surprised to see text slowly surfacing beneath it.

...

At this very moment, for some reason, a line from that text flashed into his mind: "Its cry sounds like that of an infant, and it feeds on humans."

*Feeds on... humans?*

Xiao Xiao shook his head violently, wondering if his persistent headache had made him paranoid. Otherwise, why would he jump to the conclusion of monsters for everything? After all, he couldn't even be certain if this was human blood. He wasn't a police dog—though in some respects, he was far more capable than one. But he couldn't distinguish between human blood and the blood of a cat or a dog. Perhaps he had just stumbled upon a scene of animal cruelty, like the ones reported on the news, rather than a human murder.

*Heh,* he thought, *since when did I become so good at deceiving myself?*