Without the Devil King’s class, the afternoon passed in a flash.

After dinner with Tian Xinqing at the cafeteria, Tong Zhanyan returned to the dorm that night and immediately checked on his tomato plants.

Plants can suffer from wound infections, but tomatoes are remarkably resilient. By evening, the pinched leaves and buds had dried out, showing no signs of trouble.

Tong Zhanyan breathed a slight sigh of relief and turned off the lamp he’d bought to replace sunlight.

Direct sunlight in this world could kill a person. The protective shield was invisible to the naked eye but clearly blocked most of the sun’s rays.

Tong Zhanyan wasn’t sure if others struggled to grow crops because of this, but he wasn’t willing to take the risk.

However, while sunlight is vital for plants, more isn’t necessarily better.

Excessive sunlight can directly dehydrate and scorch plants. Moreover, prolonged exposure is actually harmful, as the nutrients plants gain through photosynthesis need time to circulate and be utilized.

After finishing these tasks, Tong Zhanyan opened his livestream to check the stats.

The total view count climbed painfully, increasing by single digits daily. Over the past ten days, it had barely surpassed fifty views. As for followers or comments? Not a single one.

Today, the view count has pitifully increased by just one.

Tong Zhanyan felt a headache coming on, but he was at a loss.

Tomorrow morning was the Devil King’s class. Tong Zhanyan dared not slack off. After reading for a while, he went to bed early.

The next day, however, things took an unexpected turn.

Devil King’s mood was visibly awful—so awful he simply dropped the words “Self-study” at the door before storming off.

Inside the classroom, the group that had braced themselves for torment froze in shock. The next moment, the entire room erupted.

“Self-study? Has he lost his mind?”

“I think he took the wrong medicine.”

“Am I dreaming?”

Tong Zhanyan was also somewhat surprised.

Could it be that he was so infuriating that he actually made the Devil King sick?

Tong Zhanyan thought it wasn’t impossible.

Without the Devil King’s torment, the entire class spent the day in high spirits. Adding to their joy, tomorrow was Saturday.

“What are your plans for tomorrow?” Tian Xinqing leaned over to ask, seated to Tong Zhanyan’s left.

“Training,” Su Yanran replied from behind Tong Zhanyan.

Tian Xinqing couldn’t help but twitch his mouth. Hadn’t Su Yanran had enough training yet?

Though he inwardly scoffed, Tian Xinqing said nothing aloud. Su Yanran and Tong Zhanyan were from the Outer City; it was only natural they’d work harder.

“What about you?” Tian Xinqing looked expectantly at Tong Zhanyan. “Going to the main city?”

Tong Zhanyan wanted to train too. He no longer harbored hopes of passing the assessment; he only sought the ability to protect himself. Yet, facing Tian Xinqing’s eyes brimming with expectation, he nodded. “I’m free this morning.”

“Then it’s settled,” Tian Xinqing promptly confirmed.

That Saturday, Tian Xinqing knocked on the door early in the morning.

The main city wasn’t far from their school—just a few minutes away.

Tong Zhanyan had been there several times before. The streets looked much like the world he remembered, though many of the goods sold were unfamiliar.

For instance, equipment and food crafted from various exotic beasts and mutated plants, along with terminals and cameras featuring technology far surpassing anything from his memories.

As soon as Tian Xinqing entered the city, he headed straight for the bank to withdraw his weekly living expenses.

In this world with advanced network technology, simple tasks like money transfers could easily be handled online. Yet Tian Xinqing insisted on making the trip in person every week.

Tong Zhanyan and Su Yanran had wondered about this before, but Tian Xinqing clearly didn’t want to talk about it, so they didn’t press further.

Still, they had their suspicions.

Tian Xinqing had solid foundational skills, but his attitude toward training had always been just passable. He didn’t seem like someone who would voluntarily enroll in their academy.

Graduates of Sidi Military Academy had a three-year obligation to participate in combat.

For those from the outer city, this wasn’t much of a burden—after all, their lives were already filled with hardship. But for those from the Inner City, it felt somewhat like “asking for trouble.”

After withdrawing money, the two wandered aimlessly through the streets for a while before heading to the back alleys.

That area primarily sold items related to cultivation.

Soil, fertilizer, hoes, shovels…

Items Tong Zhanyan remembered only being found in remote agricultural supply shops were here, meticulously arranged on shelves, the store itself exquisitely decorated.

Tong Zhanyan headed for the largest shop on the street—the only one selling vegetables and fruits.

The store combined five separate shops. The left side held tools, the middle section soil and seeds, while the far right featured a row of refrigerated display cases.

Inside the large, imposing cabinets, a pitiful selection of five vegetables sat: napa cabbage, bok choy, radishes, eggplants, and potatoes. None looked particularly fresh, especially the napa cabbage and bok choy, their leaves already yellowed and wilted.

“No tomatoes?” Tong Zhanyan asked.

A clerk who had been watching them since they entered approached.

Tong Zhanyan wore the uniform of Sidi Academy, but his malnutrition was as obvious as the vegetables—clearly, he couldn’t afford much.

The large store maintained its dignified demeanor. Even after discerning Tong Zhanyan’s limited means, the clerk smiled and explained, “These items have shelf lives. We only stocked these few varieties. If you have specific needs, we can arrange a special order for you.”

“How much?” Tong Zhanyan inquired.

Seeing Tong Zhanyan’s probing question, the clerk paused slightly before answering truthfully, “The exact price isn’t fixed—it depends on the day’s purchase cost. Per gram, it’s roughly between one hundred and three hundred yuan. Bulk purchases can get a discount.”

Tong Zhanyan did a quick calculation: half a kilogram is 500 grams. At 200 yuan per gram, that’s 100,000 yuan…

100,000 yuan for half a kilo of tomatoes…

Tong Zhanyan knew these items weren’t cheap, but actually hearing the price was still hard to process.

“Are the cherry tomatoes the same price?” Tong Zhanyan took a deep breath.

The clerk’s attitude remained unchanged, though his patience was wearing thin. “About the same. What are you looking for?”

Tian Xinqing, however, wasn’t surprised.

This wasn’t Tong Zhanyan’s first time venturing into these places. Su Yanran had accompanied him here before, and back then, Tong Zhanyan had also asked all sorts of questions.

“If I had produce, would you buy it?” Tong Zhanyan stated his purpose.

He’d actually inquired before, receiving a “yes” before deciding to try this route. Back then, though, he hadn’t been certain his crop was cherry tomatoes.

The clerk’s expression instantly turned peculiar. Dreamers hoping to strike it rich through farming were a dime a dozen, and as someone who sold these very items, he encountered them daily.

“We’ll take it,” the clerk replied, his smile fading. “But the price depends on inspection. We won’t accept anything with high infection rates. As for the exact price, rest assured—we won’t rip you off. After all, this stuff is scarce. If you have a steady supply, we’d be the ones losing out if we tried to cheat you.”

Tong Zhanyan considered for a moment before nodding. “Thank you.”

With that, he headed toward the door.

Tian Xinqing followed, looking skeptical.

The clerk watched them leave with a smile, then immediately turned to share the story as a joke with the people nearby.

“You’re not planning to try it too, are you?” Tian Xinqing asked the moment they stepped outside.

He knew Tong Zhanyan well enough to understand this was pure gambling—and a gamble with extremely low odds. It simply wasn’t worth it.

“Just asking…” Tong Zhanyan replied vaguely.

They didn’t linger on the street long, returning by ten o’clock.

Su Yanran was still in the training room. Tian Xinqing went to find him, while Tong Zhanyan made excuses about studying and returned to the dorm.

Whether it was the holes in the pots, pinching off leaves and buds, the lights, the wood ash, or a combination of these, after the acclimatization period, those tomato plants perked up as if they’d seen the light of day.

By Monday, the buds that had been barely visible on the two healthiest seedlings were now clearly visible. Even the one that had been barely hanging on had perked up.

With everything moving in a positive direction, Tong Zhanyan was naturally in high spirits.

Devil King, however, went to the opposite extreme. Monday and Tuesday classes were self-study sessions, and by Wednesday, even the announcement of “self-study” was made by the homeroom teacher from the neighboring class.

At first, the class was quite pleased, but as the occurrences multiplied, unease began to creep in. They sensed a storm brewing.

On the way back after Thursday evening’s self-study, Su Yanran asked, “What the hell is he up to?”

“Who cares what he’s up to? No matter what, he can’t really kill us. Killing students is illegal… right?” Tian Xinqing started off sounding quite righteous, but his voice clearly trailed off in uncertainty.

The Devil King had plenty of ways to torture them to death without lifting a finger.

“He doesn’t have class tomorrow, right?” Tian Xinqing asked hopefully.

“He does, in the morning.” Tong Zhanyan poured a bucket of cold water over her hopes.

Tian Xinqing’s face instantly fell.

By the time they finished talking, the three had returned to the dorm building.

It was a rare moment of relaxation, and the hallway was bustling with people visiting each other and chatting.

After exchanging a few more words in the hallway, the three headed to their respective rooms.

A moment later, Tong Zhanyan opened his door and peeked out.

Tian Xinqing and Su Yanran’s door was open, but no one was visible. Tong Zhanyan breathed a slight sigh of relief before hurrying toward the stairwell, determined to pick up leaves while no one was watching.

At first, he hadn’t deliberately kept it from Tian Xinqing and Su Yanran, but now he genuinely didn’t want to tell them. Partly, he didn’t want them to worry; partly, he didn’t want the Devil King to find out.

If the Devil King found out he was messing around instead of training properly, he’d definitely drag him out of school.

Exiting the dormitory area, he turned right and crossed half the playground before quickly spotting the cafeteria.

Though lights-out was still half an hour away, the cafeteria was still brightly lit, filled with people grabbing late-night snacks.

Tong Zhanyan headed toward the back of the cafeteria.

This area was secluded—deserted by day and devoid of even a single streetlight at night.

Just as Tong Zhanyan reached for his flashlight, a flickering light caught the corner of his eye in the woods.

“Who’s there? Show yourself.” Before Tong Zhanyan could react, a familiar voice boomed out.

The Devil King.

Tong Zhanyan felt a chill run down his spine.

“It’s me.”

As Tong Zhanyan hesitated, considering whether to turn and run—after all, in this darkness, the Devil King might not recognize him—a voice came from another path behind the cafeteria.

Tong Zhanyan immediately froze.

“I knew you’d be here.” Class 1 homeroom teacher Yuan Yuepeng walked into the woods, sat down beside Devil King, and placed the item he was carrying between them. “Want some?”

Devil King’s tense body relaxed slightly.

He glanced at the contents of the bag—a stack of counterfeit liquor, the strongest kind.

The Devil King remained still, staring blankly into the distance.

“Got the final list?” Yuan Yuepeng asked. “How many dead?”

The hand holding the cigarette visibly trembled, scattering ash onto the ground.

Yuan Yuepeng opened a bottle of liquor and placed it beside the Devil King, then opened one for himself.

The Devil King grabbed the bottle and took a hard gulp, letting the liquor’s sharpness sting his throat.

“Twenty-three.”

Just as Yuan Yuepeng thought the Devil King wouldn’t speak, his voice suddenly came.

Yuan Yuepeng froze. “How could there be so many?”

The words were out before he could stop himself, but once spoken, they couldn’t be taken back.

The Devil King took another deep gulp. “All from the outer city.”

Yuan Yuepeng was speechless.

Their school charged no tuition, but students were obligated to serve in combat for three years. Most graduated and joined forces afterward.

“The Qing family head went to get treatment in a city behind us. Qing Jiyue, worried, followed him. Unexpectedly, those beasts arrived just then. They…” Bitterness welled in the Devil King’s throat, so intense he couldn’t even form words.

He had personally sent them off a month ago. The news of their deaths had reached him a week prior.

Four years of effort, four years of relentless struggle. He believed he had taught them with every ounce of his strength, only to be rewarded with a mere twenty days.

The Devil King downed another large gulp, this time emptying the entire remaining bottle. This time, he didn’t wait for Yuan Yuepeng to open it for him; he grabbed another bottle and uncorked it himself.

Yuan Yuepeng wanted to offer comfort, but he had no idea what to say. A class had only forty-odd students. After four years of living and learning together, over twenty were gone in an instant…

“I heard that after it ended, the Qing family head entered a frenzy for a full half hour and even tried to attack Qing Jiyue. Is that true?” Yuan Yuepeng asked.

“Yeah.”

Yuan Yuepeng felt a bitter taste rise in his own throat.

These years, the outbreaks of frenzy had grown increasingly severe and commonplace, yet research into cultivation showed no progress. The Qing Family head wouldn’t last more than a few years. And Qing Jiyue? How many years did he have left?

If this continued, they’d be finished sooner or later.

The Devil King snatched the empty liquor bottle from his hand and hurled it away. The glass shattered into a thousand pieces the moment it hit the ground.

“Crash!”

“Ugh.”

Tong Zhanyan, who had already turned away and was tiptoeing stealthily in an attempt to escape, felt every hair on his body stand on end.

“Tong Zhanyan?” The Devil King recognized him almost instantly.

Tong Zhanyan’s lips twitched.

How could the Devil King spot him in such darkness? Or had he truly become so hated that he’d be recognized even as ashes?

“Go process your withdrawal right now,” the Devil King barked. “Don’t let me see you tomorrow.”

Tong Zhanyan turned and bolted.

Watching Tong Zhanyan run off, Yuan Yuepeng couldn’t help but laugh bitterly. “That kid from your class?”

Tong Zhanyan was quite famous among the freshmen. After all, not just anyone could infuriate the Devil King enough to make him chase after them, yelling every single day.

The Devil King remained silent.

“From the outer city?” Yuan Yuepeng inquired.

The Devil King responded with a cold snort.

Yuan Yuepeng shook his head with a wry smile. Both he and the Devil King were from the outer city, so they understood exactly what someone like Tong Zhanyan was up to.

“He’s not suited for this,” Devil King stated bluntly. “Stubbornly clinging on won’t help. He’d be better off heading back soon to figure out a way out. That might just give him a longer shot at survival.”

Yuan Yuepeng gave a bitter smile.

Suddenly, another name came to mind: Qing Jiyue.

The same age as Tong Zhanyan, yet his future had long been predetermined. All they could do was stand by and watch.