novelraw Chapter 141 Priest
Chapter 141 Priest
Xu Yan picked up her handbag and her unfinished milk tea, clearly unsure what expression she was even supposed to make anymore.
“Could that really be fake?”
She laughed awkwardly.
“Xiaoxue wouldn’t lie about something like that. Her student ID and enrollment certificate are real. Donghai University wouldn’t just casually accept someone as an exchange student.”
“I know.”
Jiang Ran explained,
“Documents, procedures, IDs, emails… all of that can be real. Especially with how private universities in the U.S. operate. But even if those are real, it doesn’t necessarily mean Xiaoxue actually studied there for two years.”
“I want your boyfriend to help investigate whether, over those two years, Xiaoxue really attended classes there—whether she had classmates, teachers, assignments, exams.”
“[Because actually attending school is something you can’t fake. Real is real. Fake is fake.]”
This was the second thing Jiang Ran wanted Xu Yan to help verify.He had originally planned to find another way, but since Xu Yan’s boyfriend seemed so capable, he might as well ask.
Of course, Jiang Ran had no intention of letting someone work for free—or relying endlessly on Xu Yan’s goodwill.
When they met during the National Day holiday, he planned to offer compensation. If the other party refused money, then he would switch to physical gifts—foldable phones, watches, luxury bags, anything.
He could afford it all now.
Compared to the balance in his bank account, these were trivial expenses.
Just as he had said—
Whether someone had actually attended school was extremely easy to verify.
If Cheng Mengxue had truly spent two years at the University of Pennsylvania, there would be traces of her everywhere.
Even if assignments, reports, and transcripts could be fabricated—
Relationships couldn’t.
Teachers, classmates, roommates… those couldn’t be faked.
Ask a few classmates, and you’d know immediately whether such a person had ever attended.
Jiang Ran believed the two clues Qin Feng had given him were critical.
They had to be pursued.
“Alright.”
Xu Yan took her milk tea and headed downstairs.
Seeing how serious Jiang Ran was, she decided not to argue further.
Let the facts speak.
Jiang Ran followed behind her, and the two returned to Donghai University together.
Back in the dorm.
Fang Ze had just changed into his pajamas and was about to go to bed.
“Where did you go today?” Jiang Ran asked casually.
“I didn’t see you this afternoon. You only had one class, right?”
“I walked around campus.”
Fang Ze pulled up his blanket.
“I’m still worried about my brother. But I realized worrying alone is useless. I can’t find any clues about him at all. I don’t know where he is, who his target is, or when he plans to act… I’m honestly a bit lost.”
Jiang Ran said nothing and went into the bathroom to brush his teeth.
Fang Ze was still talking about his brother, Fang Yang—the Killer from the 2045 prison.
Although they weren’t on the same side, Jiang Ran also wanted answers.
Who was he going to kill?
When?
Why?
On that point, their goals aligned.
Unfortunately—
After several days of attempts in the 2045 prison, Jiang Ran still couldn’t get past the guards and the police dogs.
He could escape alone with enough information—
But that was meaningless.
He had to break out together with the Killer. Only then would the Killer tell him the answers.
But…
How could they escape?
For a university student, this problem was simply too difficult.
From Jiang Ran’s perspective, their planning—personnel positioning, tactical coordination—was already nearly perfect.
But the guard’s automatic alarm system was even more perfect.
No matter what they did, it would trigger—
And once triggered, the swarm of drones would arrive, leading to total annihilation.
“Is there any way… to avoid triggering the automatic alarm?”
Jiang Ran brushed his teeth, mumbling through foam.
This felt like the final hurdle.
If they could bypass the alarm and blend into the crowd on the training field outside, the escape plan would be 90% successful.
After washing his face, Jiang Ran walked out.
Fang Ze looked at him.
“Oh right—tonight when I was wandering around campus, I saw the Film Camera Club room was still lit. I went in and chatted with that small president of yours.”
“Oh, Chi Xiaoguo.”
Jiang Ran wiped his face.
“She’s a good person. Like a little sunshine—cheerful, funny, always full of internet memes.”
“[You came to Donghai University last semester already? She said you were the one who helped save the club.]” Fang Ze suddenly asked.
“Yeah.”
Jiang Ran didn’t deny it.
“It’s always been my dream to get into Donghai University. I knew I’d be coming, so I came early to take a look.”
“As for the club—it’s just a personal hobby. I like these old, mechanical things. So when I heard it was going to be dissolved, I wanted to keep it alive.”
“It wasn’t easy… you saw it today. Hardly anyone came. In the end, it’s still just the few of us.”
Fang Ze smiled slightly.
“Then your photography must be pretty good. Can you take a picture for me sometime?”
Jiang Ran smiled back.
“I wouldn’t say I’m good. I’m more interested in the cameras themselves. I still have a lot to learn from President Chi.”
“[I asked Chi Xiaoguo what you’ve been doing, waking up so early every day.]” Fang Ze suddenly said.
Jiang Ran’s back was turned. The towel covered his face as his eyes sharpened.
“Oh?”
He turned around.
“What did she say?”
“She told me.”
Fang Ze chuckled.
“She said you two have been working day and night preparing for recruitment—making display boards, drawing posters whenever you had time.”
I see.
Jiang Ran calmly hung the towel back.
Chi Xiaoguo was reliable—and tight-lipped. When she said something would stay secret, it stayed secret.
Even if she had been admitted with the lowest score in Donghai University, that was still the lowest score in Donghai University—worlds apart from someone like Wang Hao.
“Next time there’s an event like this, you two should help out as well.”
Jiang Ran joked.
“After all, from today on, you’re both members of the Film Camera Club too. No slacking.”
“Haha, of course not.”
Fang Ze waved his hand.
“But you won’t need to wake up early anymore, right?”
He turned slightly, his gaze shifting.
“[Now that recruitment is over, there’s no need to go to the club room early in the morning anymore.]”
Jiang Ran picked up his water cup and took a sip—buying time.
Right.
How should he answer that?
A graduate student waking up at 6 a.m. every day—not to run, not to study, not to go to the library—
But to go to the Film Camera Club room…
That was undeniably strange.
Before, he could use recruitment preparation as an excuse.
But now?
What then?
This was the inconvenience of dorm life—every move was visible to roommates.
And recently, Donghai University had tightened dormitory regulations. Off-campus housing was completely prohibited.
Come to think of it—
This timing was strange.
In previous years, Donghai University had never enforced dorm rules this strictly.
Now there were nightly inspections, and even entry and exit required facial recognition check-ins.
Why had it suddenly become so strict?
Jiang Ran admitted—
Lately, he had grown somewhat paranoid.
Everything felt like a conspiracy. As if everything was somehow directed at him.
On Worldline 0, Qin Feng had teased him about this more than once. Even Xiaoxue had said the same—
That he was too cautious. Too careful. Overthinking everything.
But Jiang Ran had never considered that a flaw.
Caution never hurts.
Caution keeps you alive.
Especially now—
With everything so uncertain, so dangerous—
Of course he had to think more.
In short—
He needed to stay wary of the people around him.
Especially here, at Donghai University—this vortex of events.
Aside from Xu Yan and Chi Xiaoguo—
He trusted no one.
“You’ll have to follow the president’s arrangements.”
Jiang Ran set down his cup, brushing it off.
“Don’t be fooled by how small she is—she’s got plenty of ideas.”
Fang Ze didn’t press further. He pulled the blanket over himself.
“If you ever need help, just ask.”
“Alright.”
Jiang Ran climbed into bed, his finger resting on the master light switch.
“Turning off the lights?”
“Mm.”
He pressed down—
Click.
The dim, luxurious conference room was suddenly flooded with light.
A middle-aged man stood by the switch, looking toward the elderly man seated at the end of the table.
“Why not turn on the lights?”
“I prefer the dark.”
The old man in a Tang suit toyed with a coin, his voice low.
Darkness. Silence.
They allowed him to think more clearly.
The middle-aged man chuckled as he walked over.
“Everything’s going smoothly. What’s there to worry about? At your age, you should focus on staying healthy—sleep early, wake early.”
“Oh right—heard the date for [Divine Punishment] has been set? On the same day as your meeting?”
“Correct.”
The old man flicked the coin. It spun across the table before settling—face up.
Under the fluorescent light, the embossed king stared upward, crown on his head, scepter in hand, exalted.
The four letters on the coin gleamed—
KING.
The middle-aged man smiled.
“That King coin of yours is really something. No one dares oppose you.”
“Heh…”
The old man picked it up again, flipping it between his fingers.
“If we’re lucky, we might soon have a second one.”
“These things are like nuclear deterrence.”
“They’re most powerful when they’re not used.”
“And there’s another condition—”
“They’re only effective when only one party has them.”
“So whether we obtain a second one doesn’t matter.”
“What matters is—no matter what, no one else can be allowed to obtain the first.”
The middle-aged man pulled out a redwood chair and sat beside him.
“Then you’d better keep yours safe. You like flipping coins so much—don’t accidentally lose it one day.”
The old man shook his head.
“I never flip my own coin.”
“And I never gamble on my own luck.”
His right hand slipped into his jacket. From an inner pocket, he took out another coin and placed it atop the King coin.
“Because my choices…”
“Are always correct.”
Clink.
The two coins struck each other, producing a sound that didn’t quite belong to metal.
The king’s face was pressed beneath the second coin—buried in shadow.
The light fell upon the new coin, illuminating its finely engraved image.
A devout priest, head raised toward holy light.
Clad in pristine robes.
A Bible in his left hand.
A sharp cross in his right.
As if preaching.
As if delivering judgment.
And beneath the engraving—
The embossed letters shone under the light—
[PRIEST]