High School of Demon Hunting
Chapter 1039 - 101 Laboratory Work

Chapter 1039: Chapter 101 Laboratory Work

"Zheng Qing?!"

Professor Montreya scrutinized the young wizard in front of him with his characteristically stern gaze, his tone firm and yet tinged with a hint of curiosity.

"Yes, Professor Montreya. It’s a pleasure to meet you."

Zheng Qing clasped his hands in front of his stomach, nodding slightly with restrained courtesy as he unfolded the reply slip given to him by Professor Montreya and handed it over—just after passing through the bronze small door, the Bull Head that served as the doorkeeper had spat the slip back out, returning it to the young wizard.

Professor Montreya extended his hand but did not take the slip. Instead, he reached out and grasped the cost student’s wrist.

Zheng Qing’s arm trembled slightly but ultimately he did not withdraw his hand.

"Su Councilor said you want to understand yourself as much as possible," the professor said, pinching Zheng Qing’s wrist between two fingers, as though taking his pulse, but also as if holding him to prevent escape.

"Yes..." Zheng Qing nodded repeatedly, wanting to offer more explanation, only to be cut off by Professor Montreya.

"That’s not easy," the professor shook his head, apparently not optimistic about Zheng Qing’s idea, "It’s not the only hard thing in this world, but to ’recognize oneself’ surely ranks among them. Many people want to recognize themselves, but very few manage to do so."

Zheng Qing did not dispute this.

"I just want to check if there is any special bloodline in my body," Zheng Qing carefully chose his words, both to make his request clear to Professor Montreya and to avoid arousing his keen interest—altogether, it was a very skillful conversation—added the young wizard:

"Because I seem to be quite sensitive to strong mental stimuli, often getting hyposphagma, but the school medical center found no lesions... and sometimes, some magical creatures seem very interested in my scent... Dean Yao knows about this; he previously suggested that I consult with you."

"Oh, Old Yao said so too?" Professor Montreya’s gaze finally shifted somewhat, "What a pity, it seems we can’t just casually dissect you on the operating table now."

Zheng Qing turned pale with fright.

A few muffled chuckles came from the black-robed wizards at the nearby experimental table.

"What are you laughing at! Have you finished your tasks? Do you think working 996 is not addictive enough and want to stay in the lab 24/7?" Professor Montreya scowled, glancing at his assistants.

The laughter stopped abruptly. With a glance from the corner of his eye, Zheng Qing saw that the wizards had all resumed their grave expressions and efficient movements, as if the laughter had just been an illusion.

Professor Montreya, without further reprimanding his assistants, released Zheng Qing’s wrist and turned to walk deeper into the laboratory. There, a remarkably large experimental table was positioned, with no one sitting behind it, evidently the professor’s own workstation.

Zheng Qing stood dumbfounded behind the professor, watching his receding figure, unsure of what to do.

"Hurry up and follow!"

Behind the neighboring experimental table, a round face lifted, struggling with lip-read signals to Zheng Qing—just a dozen seconds earlier, he was the first wizard to laugh quietly.

Zheng Qing exhaled quietly.

The subdued laughter of the assistant wizards behind the experimental desk and Professor Montreya’s somewhat lame joke had eased his tension a little; he wasn’t shaking anymore from the mere handshake with the professor.

He adjusted the hem of his robe and took a few quick steps to catch up with Professor Montreya.

"How long have you been studying Magic Script?" the professor asked as he walked, tossing a question at Zheng Qing.

"Six, seven months now." Zheng Qing calculated the time since enrollment in his mind and quietly replied.

"That is to say, before entering the academy, you had no foundation in Magic Script, right?" Professor Montreya sighed.

Zheng Qing softly acknowledged, feeling somewhat embarrassed.

"Have you studied Talisman?" the Professor asked again.

"Yes! I have studied!" Zheng Qing immediately straightened up, his voice growing much louder, "All one thousand two hundred ninety-six Basic Runes, I can write them from memory."

Finally, the Professor stopped walking.

At the same time, the two had already arrived in front of the large experimental platform.

He turned his head, looking at the Young Wizard with surprise, as if seeing him for the first time.

"Oh, you are the first-year cost student from Dean Yao’s faculty who has received the Merlin Medal, right!" Professor Montreya suddenly realized, "I heard Little Zhang mention this... Hmm, very good, this will be much easier."

Little Zhang must be Professor Zhang from Talisman Studies.

Zheng Qing felt his face grow a shade darker—he meant to say that after talking for so long, the Professor hadn’t figured out who he was!

"Sit!"

Professor Montreya dragged out a soft cushioned chair with a white leather covering from behind the experimental platform and then, gripping Zheng Qing’s shoulders, pressed him into the seat, "Tilt your head back, open your eyes... and look at that big lamp overhead."

Zheng Qing dutifully lifted his head, opened his eyes wide, and looked towards the circular chandelier hanging from the ceiling. Inside the white lampshade, shimmering specks seemed to drift about—whether there were fireflies inside or it was just an illusion from his blurry vision, he couldn’t tell.

Professor Montreya took out a brand-new pair of silk gloves, eyeglasses with multiple lenses, and a tiny glass bottle from his pocket. Inside the bottle were a few specks the size of rice grains, gently floating.

The Professor set up the eyeglasses, donned the silk gloves, then drew a tiny speck from the glass bottle with a straw and touched it into Zheng Qing’s eye, "Don’t blink... When did the red scars at the back of your eye appear?"

When the speck entered his eye, it didn’t feel like gritty sand, but rather as if his eyeballs were soaking in a hot spring, warm and seemingly massaged by multiple tiny hands.

For some reason, the image of Doctor Duzem scooping out his eyeballs and washing them in water flashed through Zheng Qing’s mind.

"I was fine during lunch yesterday... but by evening, my eyes turned red," whispered Zheng Qing, his lips barely moving.

"Last night?" the Professor furrowed his brows, murmuring, "Last night’s irritation... were you frightened by Satoguya’s Big Eye?"

Zheng Qing was stunned, suddenly feeling tears well up in his eyes.

"You saw it too, right?!" He opened his eyes wide, staring intently at the Professor above him wearing a face mask, his voice filled with excitement, "I always said that last night..."

"Don’t move, or you might poke your eyes out!" he warned sternly, stifling the Young Wizard’s outburst.

Startled, Zheng Qing froze, his eyes as wide open as possible, not daring to make a single movement.

Professor Montreya did not continue the topic; instead, he attentively observed the condition of Zheng Qing’s eyeballs, while occasionally instructing the nearby Feather Pen to jot down the stream of numbers and terms he called out.

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