A Light Element Roommate!
The Greenish-Yellow Demonesses seemed to know nothing of fear. Mo Fan's Blazing Fist had been powerful enough to scatter the nerve of any ordinary Demon-Beast — they would have turned tail and fled in a heartbeat. These creatures were a different breed entirely. The remaining six, seeing Mo Fan locked in the recovery interval between spells, trampled straight through the scorched and ruined corridor and charged directly at him.
Mo Fan took one look at those six incoming creatures and decided without a second thought: he ran.
The Blood Beast Boots still had time on them. Mo Fan's all-out sprint left the Greenish-Yellow Demonesses well behind, and before long he had shaken them entirely.
On the second floor of the gymnasium, in a stylishly furnished creative room, a young man with dyed yellow hair had a girl pinned against the wall.
The girl's face was flushed, heart pounding, her expression hovering somewhere between protest and invitation. Sweet, soft sounds escaped her lips.
"If someone walks in on us, we'll never live it down," the oval-faced girl whispered.
"Not gonna happen — everyone's watching the performance." The yellow-haired young man grinned. "We'll make it quick."
He pressed her fully against the wall, kissing hungrily at her neck, working his way lower and lower. Her fingers tangled in his yellow hair, her eyes growing hazy, just as she reached for the little clasp that stood between her and uninterrupted bliss —
Something slithered in through the ventilation window. Soft, covered in greenish-yellow scales, it crept through the gap inch by inch.
"Th-there's a monster!!" The oval-faced girl went pale.
The yellow-haired young man smirked. "Oh, there absolutely is — and it's about to devour you." He kissed her again before she could say another word.
Eyes wide open, she watched the greenish-yellow creature crawl upside-down across the ceiling like a spider, closing the distance between itself and the oblivious couple — inch by deliberate inch.
**Shriiiek—!!!!**
The Greenish-Yellow Demoness dropped from above. Its fang-filled maw snapped straight for the young man's throat.
"**Radiant Blessing: Holy Shield!!**"
At the last possible instant, the yellow-haired young man spun around. Golden light blazed to life across his entire body.
The radiance coalesced into a smooth, gleaming arc — beginning no larger than a palm, it expanded in a heartbeat until it had wrapped around both him and the girl entirely. Sanskrit runes were inscribed across its golden surface, and its metallic facets caught the light from every angle, the whole structure taking on the form of a sacred luminous shield — absolute, immovable, holding firm around them both.
The Demoness' head slammed straight into it.
The impact left her reeling. The Holy Shield also carried a searing, purifying power — every point of contact erupted instantly, flesh scorching and splitting open as though an evil vampire had lunged into holy water.
"Ruining my mood," the yellow-haired young man said coldly, eyes fixed on the Demoness writhing on the floor.
The creature clutched at its own face, thrashing in agony. The Holy Shield's burning was nothing like ordinary fire — it was a purification, a sacred searing, working on an entirely different principle. Against creatures of darkness and beings of a particular evil nature, it was devastating.
The Demoness had taken no destructive magic. She had simply collided with the Holy Shield — and already it was as though the light itself was consecrating every inch of her from the inside out.
The burning spread from her face to her neck, then down across her entire body.
She writhed in unbearable agony. And then, in what looked almost like a deliberate act of self-preservation, she began tearing the greenish-yellow skin from her own body — ripping it away, layer by layer.
"Don't kill her — I think she's been possessed." The yellow-haired young man had been raising his hand to finish it when the oval-faced girl caught his arm.
"So this thing is behind all those frightening incidents the school's been whispering about?"
"Probably... look — it's a girl!"
When the outer skin came away, it revealed a young woman underneath — her body slick with viscous fluid, dazed and terrified. She still seemed to have her senses. She scrambled free in a panic, snatched a tablecloth from a nearby table, wrapped it tightly around herself, and huddled in the corner — wide-eyed and hollow-faced, like someone who had clawed her way back from somewhere she should never have been.
"I'll call my roommate — we need to get her to the infirmary. We should report this to the school too." The yellow-haired young man pulled out his phone.
"I'll call our department head." The oval-faced girl was, all things considered, remarkably composed.
He scrolled through his contacts for a moment, hesitated, then landed on the name of the roommate he trusted most to handle something like this.
"Hey — where are you? Come help me take a girl to the infirmary. Something's possessed her..."
"Are you out of your damn mind, calling *now*?!"
The voice that came roaring back through the phone was anything but calm.
In the main corridor connecting the first and second floors, a shirtless young man burst out of the shadows beneath the stairwell.
He was sprinting for his life toward the second floor, cursing the utter disaster of a timing at the other end of the line as he ran.
**Shriiiiek—!!**
**Shriiiiek—!!**
Down the corridor, the six Greenish-Yellow Demonesses had picked up the ringtone. They had been on the verge of passing the stairwell entirely — but as one, they wheeled around and gave chase, thundering up the stairs after Mo Fan.
"Your end sounds... pretty intense," the voice on the phone remarked, picking up the distant shrieks. "What's going on over there?"
"You're going to get me killed, I swear." Mo Fan shot back without breaking stride. "I can't talk right now — I need to shake these things."
"Wait, don't hang up. I think I can hear your voice from here — are you in the gymnasium?"
"Yeah!"
"In the corridor between floors?"
"Yes!"
"Turn right — there's a creative room. Get in here."
Mo Fan didn't stop to question it. When he reached the second floor, he spotted the large "Creative Room" sign ahead exactly where promised.
He barely made it to the door before it swung open. He didn't think — he hurled himself inside, carried on a gust of wind.
Zhao Manyan slammed the door shut behind him. He watched Mo Fan barely brake in time before nearly sliding straight into the window, surprise flickering across his face — then his gaze dropped to the blood-red boots on Mo Fan's feet, and understanding settled in.
"One, two, three..." He pressed his eye to the peephole and scanned the corridor. "Holy hell — there are *six* of them."
"A lot of the girls at school have been—" Mo Fan was still catching his breath, about to explain, when he stopped and took in the room properly for the first time.
Two women. One with her clothes in notable disarray, clearly in the middle of something not long ago. The other appeared to be wearing nothing at all, a tablecloth wrapped around her body, huddled in a corner with the expression of someone who had just watched her own life end and restart.
Zhao Manyan cleared his throat. "Don't get the wrong idea — look at that skin over there. She crawled out of it."
"I know, you don't have to explain." Mo Fan was already past it. "I'll fill you in on everything in a minute. Right now, help me deal with the six outside."