CHAPTER 2096: CHAPTER 317: THE LETTER

Roaring letters, a type of magical letter used to convey the sender’s displeasure and anger directly to the recipient, are usually red.

Just like the color painted on the huge lips floating in front of Zheng Qing at this moment.

Seeing that big mouth seemed like it wanted to shout something more, the young public-funded student acted quickly, drawing his Colt silver python with the swiftness of a dueling Western cowboy, and with a lift of his hand, fired a shot.

Bam!

The pale cyan charm bullet flashed and shattered the big mouth in mid-air.

Only then did the other members of the student council come to their senses.

The office was silent.

"Didn’t you say you had already filtered out high-risk mail?" The young public-funded student asked dryly, forcing a polite smile on his face.

"Roaring letters are not among them," a first-year witch, as if answering a question in class, raised her hand and weakly responded: "After all, we can’t stop parents from yelling at their own children..."

"But you," another sophomore student council member’s eyes fell on the charm gun the warlock was holding, looking a little nervous: "Is this the charm gun you used to injure Sepulano?"

This was another legendary glamorous incident of Zheng’s public-funded student career.

After all, Sepulano is now the Augustus of Alpha Academy, and not everyone gets the chance to shoot and seriously injure him—though Zheng Qing still carries the related punishment, his actions were greatly admired by Jiuyou Academy students.

"No, not this one."

The young public-funded student, conscious of the school’s related prohibitions, immediately denied it upon hearing this: "...This gun only has a few ordinary charm bullets loaded."

The tall and thin warlock who brought Zheng Qing to the office reminded him, "Even so, using a charm gun or similar magical equipment in places like office or teaching buildings can easily cause accidental injuries, which is not allowed."

"Sorry, sorry, post-hunting competition syndrome."

Zheng Qing backhanded the gun into the grey cloth bag, with a hypocritical smile on his face, repeatedly apologizing: "Because of the Black Prison and the Campus Cup... you know... sometimes it’s hard to avoid overreacting..."

"Oh, I see! PTSD!"

A small witch excitedly chimed in: "I read a lot of cases on this when I was studying in the Mortal World... Never thought wizards could have this issue too!"

"Never mind, why don’t you open another letter?" The warlock who brought Zheng Qing to the office smiled kindly, and casually pulled out another letter from the grid.

"No," Zheng Qing grabbed it, his voice sounding a bit distorted due to tension: "No... no need to trouble everyone! I’d better go back and read it!"

"Is that so?" The tall and thin warlock could barely hide his disappointment, but still tried to keep him: "With many people in the office, everyone can help you open... As far as I know, the content of this type of letter is generally similar seven or eight times out of ten, which is tiring to see.\"

"No need, I’ll go back and open them myself." The young public-funded student insisted on his opinion.

"Alright then,"

The tall and thin warlock muttered, taking a few sheets of parchment from the witch beside him: "In that case, check the number of letters and paper cranes, then fill out the receipt... and sign here..."

The grid in the cabinet didn’t look big, but it had quite the capacity.

When Zheng Qing was done counting and stuffed the letters and paper cranes into the grey cloth bag, having completed the entire process, it was already eleven o’clock, less than half an hour before class ended.

No wonder Professor Yi said he didn’t need to go back.

With this bit of sentiment, the young public-funded student took advantage of the sparse shadows in the school during class and went straight back to the dormitory—before returning to the dorm, he also used an invisibility talisman to visit the Beta Town Greenhill Mansion, intending to discuss the article in the Horn Daily with Su Shijun.

Unfortunately, Su Man told him that the lady had gone to the lab and wouldn’t return until the weekend, leaving the warlock to leave a brief greeting letter before leaving in frustration.

When he returned to the dormitory, it was still early.

Besides the napping Tuan Tuan and the playful sprites, there was only a blood werewolf asleep in Dylan’s black coffin.

He sighed slightly and began processing the received letters.

He picked out the roaring letters and threw them into a ball of fierce fire to burn them, not even bothering to listen.

Among the other letters, Zheng Qing only opened about a hundred, leaving him exhausted and feeling the long-missed headache seemed to be on the verge of resurfacing.

Among the incoming letters, nine out of ten were ’greeting’ him—greeting his ancient ancestors, greeting the diseases he carried, greeting the ends of his reproductive and digestive systems.

Many greeting letters also included filled-with-courage and justice challenge letters, as though Zheng Qing wasn’t a sophomore in college but a demon in the depths of Silent Forest that feasted on children under three and virgins.

Even those polite letters that didn’t greet him contained strange inquiries such as ’Is there reproductive isolation between wizards and foxes?’ ’How can a human give birth to a fox?’ and ’How big did Su Councilor become after turning into a fox?’

In comparison, advertisements from anonymous witch doctors providing similar ’Power Pills’ with mysterious wording seemed perfectly normal.

There were quite a few such ’normal’ letters.

For example, interview bookings from the Beta Town Post and Ganges Daily; enthusiastic self-promotion from an unknown security company; advertisements for accident and injury insurance from insurance companies; and even an invitation to endorse a famous love magic potion.

In short, just because of this dazzling mundane world, bizarre and motley, all beings on earth are too beautiful, enchanted by greed, hatred, joy, disgust, anger, joy, sorrow, resentment, and jealousy.

Fatty Cat, long since awakened, circled around the young public-funded student with its tail up, stared intently at the floating ball of fierce fire, curiously eyeing the various sizes of big mouths floating and shattering in the fire, looking ready to paw at them.

The sprites whimpered and chased each other playfully in the air, flying blissfully ignorant and happy.

Not long after the class bell rang, the blue-faced Fat Wizard hurriedly squeezed into the dormitory—compared to usual, he hadn’t controlled his body size well today, making the dormitory door seem much narrower.

Zheng Qing calculated the time in his mind; from the end of class to returning to the dormitory, the fatty didn’t have time to eat.

This made him more desperate for the future—if even the food-loving fatty could skip lunch to find him, one could imagine what reactions others would have after learning about this.

"I like red boxes."

Zheng Qing didn’t lift his head, staring at the ball of fierce fire in front of him, muttering: "Black ones are fine too... no particular preference for flowers... the tombstone should be marble, no engravings... don’t bury me in the school or Silent Forest, I’d be dug up..."