Chapter 23
Chapter 23: Wang (Dummy) Classmate (Big Spender), Don’t Die!
The next day, Qian Qi set up her stall at the duel square again.
This time she struck gold.
A student with money to burn walked up and, without blinking, bought every single bag of her hemostatic medicine.
“Boss, you’re incredible!” Qian Qi beamed so hard it looked painful. “Wishing you fortune, luck, and endless riches—may you make money until your hands cramp!”
Then she immediately pivoted into a new pitch. “Boss~ carrying all that hemostatic medicine is inconvenient, right? Look at this box!”
She slapped the cardboard like it was premium merchandise. “Brand new. Super good. Ten bucks. Say the word and it’s yours!”
The male student stared at her.
He’d just spent tens of thousands on medicine.
And she wasn’t even willing to throw in a trash-box for free.
“…You’re serious?” he managed.
“Boss?” Qian Qi patted the box again, urging. “You want it or not? If not, you’ll have to carry a whole pile of medicine in your arms, okay~”
“…Fine,” the student said through what sounded suspiciously like clenched teeth. “I want it.”
He was only a runner. It wasn’t even his money. Otherwise, he would’ve been furious on principle.
After he transferred the ten bucks, he hugged the box full of medicine and hurried away.
Qian Qi clocked out early and felt fantastic. She picked up her little stool and wandered toward the plaza to watch Skills Department students fight.
She’d heard they could use elemental power—metal, wood, water, fire, earth—and there were long-range shooter types and support types too. It sounded fun.
As she walked, she whispered to her System with the shameless intimacy of someone who’d been rejected a hundred times and still believed in miracles.
“System, what’s the key motion for triggering elemental skills? Come on. Just tell me.”
[System: No.]
Qian Qi’s eyes narrowed. “Seriously? The great System doesn’t even have that?”
[System: Ask again and I’ll slap you. ^_^]
Qian Qi winced. “Eep. Heartless System.”
Meanwhile, at the duel square—
“Old Wang, go! Don’t embarrass the element major!”
“Old Sun, beat his ass! If you win, barbecue tonight!”
The stands were roaring.
On the field, Little Wang stared at the opponent across from him, face tightening with focus.
Little Wang was a Skills Department student in the element major. He controlled ice-element attacks that inflicted freezing damage.
His opponent was Sun Ping Yong, from the long-range shooting major next door. Sun Ping Yong’s skill was bow-and-arrow shooting, which let him condense a bow and arrows and deal solid physical damage.
When the referee blew the whistle, Little Wang surged forward first, ice power gathering in his palm before he fired it toward Sun Ping Yong.
Sun Ping Yong knew his weak point—close range—so he immediately retreated, widening the distance. A brown longbow formed in his hands. He nocked an arrow and released it.
“Whoosh—!”
The arrow shrieked through the air. Little Wang twisted aside just in time, but the dodge also forced him to give up ground.
“Ice Spike Rain!”
Little Wang opened his palm. A wave of icy spikes formed overhead and fell like frozen rain onto Sun Ping Yong’s position.
But the targeting was fixed. Sun Ping Yong raised the shield strapped to his back, took a few impacts, then darted out of the spike zone.
They closed again.
While running, Sun Ping Yong loosed two more arrows in quick succession.
They were fast—too fast. But the range gave Little Wang room to dodge.
As he moved, ice elements gathered, spinning into a condensed spike in his hand. He flung it at Sun Ping Yong at top speed.
Sun Ping Yong drew and released another arrow, aiming straight at the ice spike to cancel the attack.
At the same time, both fighters shifted their footing, abandoning their original positions.
Little Wang wasn’t weak. His elemental power was near D-rank. He had more tricks, more stamina. He could drag this out.
The problem was the collision.
Sun Ping Yong’s arrow should’ve hit the ice spike cleanly.
But his aim was just a hair off.
The arrow scraped past, clipping the spike’s edge.
The ice spike twisted under the force—and because it was moving so fast, it knocked the arrow sideways, sending it spinning wildly off course.
The arrow whirled through the air—
Straight toward Little Wang.
“Thk—!”
No one even had time to shout.
Little Wang, back turned, got stabbed in the neck.
“Holy shit—Old Wang!”
A classmate screamed and vaulted down from the stands, sprinting toward him. Sun Ping Yong turned sheet-white and ran too, panic tearing out of his throat. “Call the school doctor! Hurry! Call the school doctor!”
Students swarmed around Little Wang. On the ground, he writhed, choking and coughing, blood bubbling out of his mouth.
Pain flooded him so hard his mind went blank.
Then the realization slammed in.
It hurts.
It hurts—
Am I going to die—
“What happened?”
Qian Qi arrived at the skills plaza just in time to see the chaos. She shoved into the crowd like she’d paid admission. “Hey, hey, you done staring? Move—let me see too—”
She squeezed into the center.
And her pupils contracted violently.
Holy shit. That was yesterday’s rich idiot—her first major customer—Little Wang.
Why did he look like that?
Qian Qi shoved aside the people blocking her view, slid forward on her knees, and dropped in front of him. Her fingers trembled as she dug into his pockets with urgent, frantic precision.
“Classmate! Classmate, hold on!” she wailed, voice cracking with drama. “Don’t die! Don’t you dare die!”
For one glorious second, the crowd was moved. Her grief sounded so genuine, like the person bleeding out was her own brother.
Then Qian Qi screamed again, “You still have to spend so much money buying my medicine! If you die, where am I supposed to find another rich idiot big spender?!”
Everyone froze.
Someone’s tears dried up mid-wipe.
Still—her hands found what she needed.
Little Wang still had the hemostatic medicine he’d bought yesterday on him.
Qian Qi ripped open the pouch, eyes flicking to the arrow lodged in his neck.
Shooters’ condensed weapons—bows, arrows, guns, bullets—were energy constructs. Unless struck by an extreme impact, they dispersed on their own within half an hour.
Little Wang didn’t have half an hour.
Qian Qi snapped her head up. “When is the school doctor getting here?”
“At least five minutes!” a student shouted, voice shaking.
Qian Qi glanced at the blood pooling beneath him and made the call in an instant. “Too late.”
She sucked in a breath, then leaned close to Little Wang. “Classmate. I’m pulling the arrow out. Endure it.”
He didn’t have time to answer.
Qian Qi moved like lightning. She yanked the arrow straight out and dumped every grain of powder onto the wound.
In full view of everyone, Little Wang’s convulsing arm slowly went limp. His throat stopped spasming. The violent coughing faded into a weak rasp… then silence.
His eyes fluttered, rolled back, and fixed on nothing.
He went utterly still.
The crowd stared at his slack body, helpless and horrified.
Half a minute passed.
Someone finally whispered, “He didn’t… die, did he?”
The air turned dead silent—so quiet it felt like a dropped pin would shatter the world.
And one by one, every gaze in the circle slid onto Qian Qi.