Manners-Let Me Teach This Polluter Some Manners.

"I thought it was just me. We'd already been training for a week, but I felt like I was facing a Polluted for the first time. My knees nearly gave out," one student said ruefully, drawing agreement from the others.

Qin Daichuan's expression grew serious. "Did you feel unwell because you trained too long in one session and exceeded your limits?"

The student shook her head. "No, we felt it as soon as we entered the trial room, even though we'd rested and were in great condition."

Qin Daichuan: "..."

That was very unusual.

Normally, the effects of training didn't regress, yet that was exactly what had happened to all of them. The students' descriptions sounded like symptoms of sudden exposure to a higher concentration of pollution. One possibility was that Mushroom Man's pollution had increased. He'd heard that Mushroom Man had originally been a C-rank Polluted whose pollution concentration only appeared low because she was injured. She might be recovering.

"But the discomfort didn't last long. We were able to train normally again very soon!" the student said.

Another student said, "Teacher Turbot's soothing really helped."

A thoughtful look flickered through Qin Daichuan's eyes.

He knew the bureau had been short-staffed for this Blood Moon day and had recruited an assistant through Part-Time Cat. He'd assumed it was just an ordinary recruitment, never expecting to hear her name in connection with such an important incident.

He quickly logged into Part-Time Cat with the Ability Control Bureau's account and found the original bounty posting. The task had been locked and private messages had been closed. He couldn't find any information about her.

Unwilling to give up, Qin Daichuan contacted Part-Time Cat's administrators, asking them to provide information about "A Turbot," but they refused on the grounds of protecting user privacy.

He frowned. He felt as though he'd reached the door to the truth but couldn't go any farther, which left him somewhat agitated. He had no choice but to turn back to the students. "How much do you know about that assistant teacher? What's her ability? What rank is she?"

Not one of the twelve B-rank awakened knew.

Just as Qin Daichuan was feeling disappointed, a voice with a peculiar note to it came from the corner.

"Her ability is... a lifestyle ability. She's F-rank." Ming Xia paused. "Not healing, not psychic. Just... sewing and mending... things like that."

She could tell Qin Daichuan thought their miraculous awakenings might have had nothing to do with the C-rank Mushroom Man and were instead connected to the assistant teacher, so she kindly cut his speculation short.

Qin Daichuan: "..."

His face remained expressionless, though something twitched beneath his skin a few times.

Had he guessed wrong?

Then what exactly had happened?

Qin Daichuan wanted to keep questioning the students, hoping to squeeze out some useful information. This round of training at Trial Ground 165 was extremely important and held extraordinary significance for humanity as a whole. His superiors had instructed him to find the cause, no matter what. Just then, however, a subordinate shoved open the reception room door and shouted, his face drenched in sweat, "Bad news, Brother Chuan! The Polluted have gone crazy! They're popping up one after another! There are so many!"

Qin Daichuan's expression turned grave. "What's happening?"

His subordinate didn't even have time to wipe away his sweat. "How should I know? They just suddenly started pouring out like they don't care if they die!"

Qin Daichuan closed his laptop and glanced at the students. He called his subordinate inside to arrange special training for them, then rose to leave. In an instant, his aura surged, and even the surrounding air grew much colder and more severe.

Qin Daichuan strode out, then suddenly stopped as he passed his subordinate.

He lowered his head and looked at his subordinate's feet.

"What are you looking at, Brother Chuan?" The subordinate drew his feet back, putting on a coy act. "Why are you staring at my feet?"

Qin Daichuan didn't play along at all. With a cold expression, he asked, "What's stuck to the sole of your shoe?"

"Huh?"

His subordinate lifted one large foot. A piece of something white was stuck to the sole, thin and soft and coated in dirt.

"...A noodle?" His subordinate examined it and scratched his head. "I had noodles for lunch."

Qin Daichuan looked away in disgust. He had no desire to know whether the noodle stuck to his subordinate's shoe was flavored with braising sauce or lightly seasoned with scallions, and left before the man could spout any more nonsense.

In the little restaurant, the server Ye Jiang saw off a rare customer. Just after the customer left, a short strand of mycelium emerged from the floor inside the entrance, swayed, then burrowed underground again.

Chapter 25: Manners—Let Me Teach This Polluted Some Manners.

Across the street from the little restaurant stood a department store.

The small underground department store wasn't very spacious. Though it was called a department store, half of its twenty-nine shops sold food, including fresh produce. This wasn't peak shopping time, but quite a few customers had still come to shop. Yet now, no one inside was doing business. All twenty-nine shops had their doors shut tight and their lights off. Only the emergency exit signs glimmered green.

Boom-

A drumbeat rang throughout the department store, its resonance lingering.

Inside a children's clothing shop, a four-year-old child hid in a fitting room, held in his mother's arms. Two shop assistants huddled close to

the mother and son.

"Mommy, I can't see anything."

The child spoke fearfully.

With the lights off, it was dim underground, but since it was daytime, the department store couldn't become completely dark. Yet at that moment, the child couldn't see a single glimmer of light. He had fallen into utter darkness.

"Shh." His mother nervously covered his mouth and leaned close to his ear, soothing him softly. "Don't make a sound. Mommy can't see either. Don't be scared. We'll be able to see again soon."

In the darkness, time seemed to stretch on and on. The four people in the fitting room felt their hearts pound wildly. At last, the darkness slowly receded. Just as the child's mother had said, they could see again.

One minute.

They had lost their sight for one minute.

They breathed a sigh of relief.

Smack!

The sound of a blow came from outside the shop. Their bodies, which had only just relaxed, instantly went rigid again.

Smack!

Smack, smack!

The blows fell like a sudden downpour!

Someone was pounding on the glass doors outside the clothing shop!

It was here!

What should they do?

What should they do?!

The four people in the fitting room panicked, their hearts pounding so fast they felt ready to leap out of their chests. The child's little hands clutched the front of his mother's clothes. He trembled, frantic and helpless.

Smack!

The pounding grew louder, and the glass creaked under the strain. Finally, with a crash, they distinctly heard glass shattering across the floor, the sound so crisp.

How could this happen?

One shop assistant began to cry in despair. She clamped her hands over her mouth, desperately trying to keep her sobs from escaping.

Heavy footsteps drew closer and closer. The sound was ponderous, unlike a human's.

It was a Polluted.

A Polluted had broken into the underground department store and immediately killed the owner and customers of one shop. Everyone inside had reacted quickly, shutting their doors and turning off the lights. But the Polluted lingered, and a drumbeat rang out from time to time. Each time it sounded, everyone in the department store lost either their sight or their hearing for one minute.

Boom-

The lingering drumbeat seemed to sound right beside their ears. Then came endless silence. Every sound vanished. They couldn't even sense their own heartbeats anymore.

"Boo-hoo..."

One shop assistant finally broke down completely and sobbed aloud.

The child's mother tightened her arms around him. Unable to hear, she didn't know the shop assistant was crying. She stared fiercely at the fitting room door, rehearsing the desperate struggle to come in her mind. She couldn't give up yet. Until the very last moment, until her blood ran dry, until her body grew cold, she couldn't give up. Because she was a mother.

Every muscle in her body tensed.

Crack!

The instant sound pushed its way back into their ears, someone broke open the fitting room door from outside.

But it wasn't the Polluted who appeared. It was a young man in uniform, a member of the Ability Control Bureau's operations team.

"Are you all here? Is there anyone else in this shop? You can come out now."

The young man who had opened the door spoke.

The four people huddled together were dazed for a moment. The next second, cries rang out. Even the mother holding her child was shedding silent tears.

"Thank you."

The mother was the first to speak. Her four-year-old son followed her in thanking him. "Thank you for saving us, big brother."

The young man scratched his head and gave a sheepish smile. "No need, no need. I got here late and left you all terrified. Hurry outside."

The Polluted in the department store had been ambushed. The lights came back on in the darkness, and the survivors quickly evacuated. Only the young man remained inside, contacting the cleanup team. The dead Polluted's body still lay at his feet. Busy on the phone, he didn't notice the "corpse" twitch, nor did he notice a strand of mycelium burrow into its body.

The Polluted rose to its feet, twitching. It was tall, with a huge drum atop its head.

A fist came hurtling at him with a sharp rush of air. The young man dodged reflexively, but not quite fast enough. The fist grazed him, sending him flying several meters with a bang, shattering countless panes of glass.

Lying amid a heap of broken glass, the young man was dazed for a moment. Then a muffled drumbeat sounded. His vision went dark, and he lost his sight.

The fists came at him again. Without his sight, his movements became much clumsier, and before long, he had sustained many more injuries.

When the light returned, he spat out bloody saliva. "So the effect lasts one minute."

With his sight restored, he took the offensive against the Polluted, but the longer he fought, the more confused he grew. Was this Polluted really this strong? It was only a lowly E-rank. He'd taken it down with a single blow when he first arrived, though he hadn't finished it off, which had allowed it to get back up now.

The young man was a C-rank ability user, yet he found this E-rank rather difficult to handle.

Another punch sent him flying. He leaned against a mannequin, panting.

No!

Something felt wrong!

Before the Polluted's next attack arrived, the young man pulled a bead from inside his clothes. Upon contact with the air, the bead in his hand rapidly turned red, a dazzling red. That color clearly indicated a B-rank Polluted!

This E-rank Polluted had evolved!

When?!

The young man sucked in a sharp breath. Just as he was about to put the bead away, its color, which had stopped changing, suddenly shifted again. It darkened at tremendous speed, and the bead began to tremble. In the brief instant he froze, the Polluted became A-rank right before his eyes!