Chapter 285: A Shocking Crisis
This wasn’t information Xu Zhi alone had received. The primary requirement for participating in the Lost Lands selection was being in third year or above, and ranking within the top ten of one’s grade in all aspects.
There were only five slots for the Lost Lands. Across the four grades, a total of fifty students would be selected to compete. Aside from the top ten, there were also ten additional spots reserved for students with special abilities but whose overall rankings might not make the cut.
However, these spots had never been given to students below third year before.
After all, first- and second-year students were still too “green.” They weren’t capable of handling the dangers within the Lost Lands, nor could they compete with upperclassmen. Giving them slots would simply be a waste.
No one knew yet that this year’s selection included an extra first-year freshman.
The selection day was set for the first day after the monthly break ended—clearly meant to give qualified students time during the break to prepare and adjust their condition.
Xu Zhi was currently in good shape. She planned to use the remaining two days to make more bullets, and also to study how to use Authority as a medium—wrapping [Moth] within the aura of [Lamp], so that when she used [Eye of Secret], it would be mistaken for a [Lamp] ability, concealing the presence of [Moth].
After all, that ability was incredibly useful. If she could use it openly, her combat strength would improve significantly.
For that reason, Xu Zhi even made a point of sleeping for three hours that night.
In truth, she had already returned to a state where she barely needed sleep. But to keep her energy more abundant, she still rested occasionally.
Once her level increased further, even this short rest would become unnecessary.
However, when Xu Zhi opened her eyes after about three hours of light sleep, what awaited her was neither the morning sunlight nor a brand-new day.
Instead—
There was something on her bedside table that absolutely should not have been there.
At some unknown moment, a delicate glass jar about fifteen centimeters tall had silently appeared. The jar was sealed and transparent, and what it contained was something Xu Zhi found all too familiar.
A bright red, still-beating heart.
Without a doubt, this was a carefully prepared piece of “blood food.”
Judging by its packaging, its vitality, and the strength of its heartbeat, it was high-quality blood food.
But no matter what, it shouldn’t have appeared here—quietly, like a ghost, suddenly materializing in her bedroom.
Cold sweat formed on Xu Zhi’s back the moment she realized what it was. She didn’t freeze in place—instead, she immediately activated [Eye of Secret] to examine the “gift,” as well as her surroundings.
Nothing.
There was no problem at all.
Under the deconstruction of [Eye of Secret], it was a pure piece of blood food, containing a large amount of [Cup] attribute energy. There were no strange imprints, no hidden traps. It seemed to be nothing more than a simple “offering.” And her room showed no traces of intrusion—as if the jar had appeared out of thin air.
But how could that be?
Who did this?
What was their purpose?
What did they know?
Countless questions spun through Xu Zhi’s mind. The only thing that eased her tension slightly was that the other party had left behind a “clean” piece of blood food.
She even enhanced [Eye of Secret] with [Authority], analyzing it thoroughly, yet still found nothing unusual.
It was as if it were simply a somewhat frightening “gift.”
Xu Zhi remained on high alert. Many possibilities formed in her mind—each one seemingly plausible.
For someone to silently place something on her bedside table while she was lightly asleep, their ability must far exceed hers. They couldn’t be just an ordinary [Named One]. Her mental strength was already at that level—so to leave her completely unaware, they had to be even stronger.
As for the identity of the one who placed it, there were essentially only two possibilities:
One—someone from [Cup].
Two—not from [Cup].
If it was [Cup], had they discovered her identity?
If so, did they know that the little aberration was now the [Archbishop]?
If they knew, why not take it away directly, or kill it outright—instead of leaving behind a piece of blood food?
And if they didn’t know, then why give her blood food?
To frame her?
Unlikely.
If it were a setup, there were far more thorough methods—countless ways to leave her unable to defend herself. Why choose to quietly place it on her bedside table, where only she would see it?
She had killed the previous [Archbishop]. By all logic, she should already have enmity with [Cup]. If [Cup] had discovered her existence and location, why not simply kill her?
Then if it wasn’t [Cup]…
The possibilities multiplied endlessly—so many that Xu Zhi didn’t even bother counting. But in any case, the other party had only left behind a piece of blood food. Whether it was a warning or intimidation, at the very least, they didn’t seem intent on killing her immediately.
“…What does it mean?”
Xu Zhi frowned, a trace of irritation appearing on her face.
She suddenly found herself missing her old friend again. If that person were still around, even if they were just as clueless, at least she could complain to them instead of worrying alone.
“Either way, I have to deal with it first.”
This thing absolutely couldn’t be left here.
With a cold expression, Xu Zhi walked to the bedside table, opened the sealed jar without hesitation, and poured the still-beating heart into the flowerpot.
She had already confirmed with [Eye of Secret] that the jar was safe. And even if it wasn’t, she had to dispose of it.
The moment the heart and blood fell into the soil, Xu Zhi could feel the newly sprouted branch of the little aberration greedily devouring the feast. It reminded her of how it had consumed the flesh of [Cup] fanatics back in Cloud City—just as ravenous.
In just a few minutes, the healthy heart vanished without a trace. Even the soil that had been stained red showed no sign of blood. Not a single drop remained—the little aberration had devoured everything.
Xu Zhi sniffed the air. Only after confirming there wasn’t even a hint of a blood smell did she relax slightly.
To her surprise, after consuming the heart, the little aberration’s branch suddenly shot up nearly five centimeters, even sprouting two tiny offshoots—like it had taken some miraculous elixir.
Its newly formed consciousness also radiated simple thoughts:
Delicious. Fragrant. Full.
Xu Zhi sighed helplessly. “You might be full now, but who knows—this could’ve been your last meal.”
Who knew who—or what—had left that blood food? And what their purpose was?
Ever since arriving in the real world, Xu Zhi had been keeping a low profile, developing quietly. That was because she didn’t want to get entangled too quickly with the karma she had accumulated before.
But clearly, once karma reached a certain point, avoiding it was no longer possible.
And now—it had come knocking at her door.
She had always known this day would come eventually.
But its arrival was far more sudden than she had expected.
