Volume Two: The Youth of a Thousand Faces—Illusion or Reality Chapter Twenty-Four: The Second Black Reaper

The examination was over, yet the academy still had many affairs to attend to.

Inside the conference room, nearly all faculty members had gathered to grade the students’ performances. Normally, each student’s performance would be reviewed by three randomly selected teachers, excluding their own mentor, and the average of their scores would be taken. However, those who distinguished themselves would be assessed in the final stage by the entire faculty—special students received special treatment, and Bancroft’s hierarchy was reflected in every subtle detail.

The teachers, all gifted with supernatural abilities, employed a unified technique to boost their mental faculties. Even at twenty times normal speed, they could watch videos without missing a single detail, though it was physically taxing. After four hours and thousands of videos, many felt utterly depleted.

When the results of the last ordinary student were submitted, the first phase of grading ended. The teachers, having only managed a few bites of cold bread, then turned their attention to the large screen at the front of the room.

A loud bang echoed as the conference room door was kicked open. The man who entered wore a broad, cheerful grin, his face bristling with an untamed beard—a living embodiment of dishevelment.

"Hey, everyone’s here! Sorry I’m late, really sorry," Ke Zhen shamelessly announced in a booming voice.

His words reverberated through the room. Eight out of ten teachers cast dark looks at the burly man, whose physique was robust and powerful, though his belly protruded from years of drinking, giving him a somewhat overweight appearance.

"Who is that? Security?" a young new teacher asked his mentor.

The bald, elderly professor adjusted his square glasses and replied, helplessly, "Bancroft’s number one troublemaker, the disgrace of our profession."

"Meng, I can hear you, you know," Ke Zhen retorted. "If I’m a troublemaker, what does that make the rest of you?"

Several teachers shot Professor Meng unfriendly glances—why drag us into your quarrel?

Meng’s brows furrowed, and he fell silent, stewing in his anger.

Ke Zhen was a notorious misfit, showing none of the decorum befitting a teacher and had not taken a single student in nearly ten years. Had it not been for his past achievements, the academy would have dismissed him long ago.

Principal Old Jack greeted Ke Zhen with a beaming smile, waving him over. "Ke Zhen, come sit with me."

"Coming!" Ke Zhen scampered down the steps, light-footed as a swallow.

"Principal, how’s your health?" Ke Zhen asked respectfully.

Old Jack stroked his beard. "Thanks to you, quite well. What brings you to the meeting today?"

"Well, I am a teacher here, after all. When the academy calls the faculty together, of course I come."

Jiang Tong, nearby, was seething. Ten years! The academy has called full faculty meetings countless times—when did you ever show up?

Indeed, most teachers at the academy ground their teeth at the mention of Ke Zhen’s name. Back in the day, he would stop at nothing to secure resources for his students, leaving behind a trail of resentment. Each episode was enough to disgust colleagues for months.

After ten years of peace, why was he stirring things up again? Was the parking lot short on his paycheck?

Old Jack was unfazed by Ke Zhen’s antics. He gestured to the large screen and chuckled, "Enough with the act. I bet you’re here for this."

---

"Oh!" Ke Zhen slapped his thigh. "You really do know me, that’s exactly why I’m here!"

"All right, I understand," Old Jack replied.

Their cryptic exchange left the surrounding teachers puzzled, but both spoke aloud, and with their supernatural abilities, everyone could hear them clearly.

Why was he here? To dismantle the screen for scrap? No, surely not... except, well, Ke Zhen might actually do such a thing.

Then, remembering what would soon be shown on the screen, everyone realized: he was after the elite students.

Which mentor was unlucky enough to have their student targeted by this troublemaker? To appear on the main screen meant being in the top ten of one's attribute in the academy—a true prodigy. Ke Zhen, infamous for poaching students, had done it before.

The mentors of outstanding students grew anxious.

But to their surprise, Ke Zhen did nothing excessive as the videos played—other than haphazard scoring, which Director Jiang Tong promptly disregarded.

Until the very end, when the final video appeared—the protagonist was the Little Reaper, Hoyeh.

At that moment, realization dawned on everyone. The academy’s perilous exam had no first-year students, so everyone assumed the candidates had mentors, and Ke Zhen was here to poach. Yet they had overlooked a second-year transfer student.

The video played at twenty times speed, from Hoyeh’s first sword strike, to his support across the field, his selfless act against the ultimate threat, and finally his assistance in Vivian's encirclement and slaying of the suddenly evolved Disaster-class Bobby. Each scene drew admiration.

"Powerful, steady, calm, courageous, unafraid of sacrifice, fierce in battle yet graceful—he’s inherited his parents’ strengths," one teacher remarked.

"But he’s adopted," Ke Zhen interjected, silencing the teacher.

"I... I meant he’s inherited their values."

With one person put in their place, the rest kept quiet, silently scoring the final student.

This time, Jiang Tong did not ignore Ke Zhen’s score—for it was reasonable, if unusually so. Considering his motive, the faculty let it go.

The scores finalized, the super crystal brain instantly calculated the top ten ranking. Hoyeh stood at the very top.

It wasn’t that Hoyeh’s strength was indisputably the academy’s best; from his performance, he was at most tied with Xiaolan Ho and Yan Mo Tang, and still a bit behind Tan Xiao, the top-ranked student. But his exceptional performance and the credit for slaying a Disaster-class enemy made him deserving of first place.

Ke Zhen grinned so broadly his mouth nearly reached his ears. Good lad, well done! Reliable!

With the exam results settled, the conference room fell silent. Everyone knew what came next. With all teachers present, it was time to decide who would mentor the Little Reaper.

It is often said that teachers make their students, and that is true. Yet another fact is often overlooked: students make their teachers.

Only when a student excels does a teacher’s reputation soar.

The best example was that burly man beside the principal. His first student was now humanity’s greatest warrior—one achievement alone was enough for Ke Zhen to rest on his laurels for a lifetime, and everyone had to admit it.

Now, with Eddie Halls and Vivian Halls jointly nurturing Hoyeh for over a decade, and perhaps even learning from other high-ranking members of the Reaper Hunt Squad, this prodigy—if one could take him under their wing—might launch their own career to new heights.

---

"Ahem." Professor Meng coughed twice, his shining bald head poking out from the crowd. As the academy’s most senior professor, he was usually respected. He believed if he spoke first, the others would give way.

But he forgot there was an irreverent troublemaker present. "What’s wrong, Professor Meng? Throat acting up? Then hurry home and see a doctor—what are you doing here?" Ke Zhen interjected.

Meng took a deep breath, ignored Ke Zhen, and addressed everyone, "If I may, we’ve all just witnessed Hoyeh’s remarkable performance. Such an outstanding student should naturally be guided by a teacher of upright character. Wouldn’t you all agree?"

As the most senior professor, Meng couldn’t outright claim moral authority—it would have been shamelessly self-serving. Still, he wanted to eliminate Ke Zhen’s chance of snatching Hoyeh, so he stressed upright character. In that regard, Ke Zhen was dead last in the academy.

"Yes, Professor Meng is right."

"If we’re talking character, who’s more upright than our venerable Professor Meng? I propose he mentor Hoyeh."

"I agree."

"I second that."

A chorus of teachers, eager to curry favor, lent their support.

Ke Zhen was not about to let them succeed so easily. He coughed loudly and said, "Are you performing a comedy routine? Should I get you each a robe? One sings, one echoes—what a group act!"

The group fell silent. Some even searched the crystal brain for the meaning of "comedy routine," as such performances were rare these days.

Ke Zhen, having idled long enough, could not let this old schemer win by default.

Professor Meng had clawed his way to his present position, but his teaching skills left much to be desired. He loved to snatch promising students, hoping their success would reflect on him. Many had seen their futures ruined under his guidance. For such a person, the best phrase was: "Old but not wise, a thief by any other name."

Ke Zhen, though often unruly and idle for ten years, had dozens of former students, each now accomplished. The least successful was still a captain in a major hunt squad. He had truly sowed seeds far and wide.

"Tell me, how can you let such a gifted student be ruined in your hands?" Ke Zhen spoke bluntly, dropping the honorifics. "A fine horse deserves a fine saddle. The best student should be taught by the most capable teacher. Are you up to it?"

"Oh, so I’m not, but you are?" Professor Meng sneered.

"I certainly am!"

"No teacherly conduct or virtue, and you claim to be the best educator? On what grounds?"

"Because I taught Eddie Halls. I trained the Black Reaper, and I can train another!"

The room was stunned. In the conference hall, you could hear a pin drop.