Rita didn’t deliberately pick her targets. She had to follow the Librarian’s rules of engagement.
Any student marked red by Divine Game, being the nearest, had to be struck first. Of course, thanks to the whip’s reach, accidentally hitting extra people along the way was perfectly within the rules.
That little trick she’d picked up straight from the Librarian who had been singling her out.
Like a rookie thrilled with her new job, she threw herself into the work with boundless enthusiasm. The whip never stopped cracking. More than once, it nearly lashed Barista.
Once might be an accident. Twice could be coincidence. Thrice could be carelessness. By the fourth time, it was definitely "oops, totally didn’t mean that."
She grabbed a rabbit Librarian passing by and hissed in divine tongue, words the players couldn’t understand: "Weren’t you specifically here to whip her?"
Deceitful Bloom sighed. "Yes, but right now I can’t touch her."
Barista narrowed her eyes. "Fine. I’ll give you one last chance."
She rolled up her sleeves and charged in. Riot Time was down to three minutes. If she didn’t close in now, the game’s rules would force her to keep striking whoever was closest, and she wouldn’t get to hit her real target.
Deceitful Bloom: "..." Thanks to BS-Rita, what kind of reputation did she have left anymore?
As Riot Time wound down, Rita stopped at a vending machine, wanting to check the prices before it ended.
Since she had pulled that Temp Worker whip, lots of students had come to buy things, filling the arena with bizarre tools.
There were useful ones, like the whip that temporarily made you a Librarian, an eraser that let you modify numbers three times, or a megaphone that made a chosen player blare noise with every move.
And then there were pure troll items, like a flashlight that locked a spotlight onto you. The poor kid who bought it still had a beam glued to them, trailing wherever they ran.
The current price was "-20." That was tricky. Negative numbers. The one thing she didn’t want to burn.
She had forty-one numbers in hand, but only three were negatives. Negative numbers were precious. They were the ultimate adjusters, letting her swing the final calculation up or down no matter what the target was. There was no way she was wasting one now.
She kept running. ᴜᴘᴅᴀᴛᴇ ꜰʀᴏᴍ 𝕟𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕝~𝕗𝕚𝕣𝕖~𝕟𝕖𝕥
At the stairway, she found the same problem—negative numbers for the ticket price. She ditched the idea and bolted on.
The moment the whip faded from her hand, she dove into Hunter Form, shrinking into the Orchid Mantis and darting for cover.
But as if waiting for that exact instant, the golden lightning whip shot through the gaps in the shelves and tagged her square in the back.
She dropped a random number: 9.
Hitting the ground, body still twitching from the shock, she fired off a string of skills and scrambled away without looking back, squeezing into the collapsed wreckage of bookshelves.
What had she done to piss off this White Bear? Their first meeting hadn’t been this hostile...
The whip speared into the rubble after her, twisting like a living serpent, perfectly threading through the gaps without touching a single shelf. The rabbit’s whip control was terrifying.
The mantis tumbled out the other side, sprinting through cracks and gaps. But no matter how fast she ran, she was once again flagged as the floor’s number-richest student the moment she reverted to "intruder" status. The rabbit pressed on relentlessly, whip flashing.
Even Absolute Freedom teleporting her to the far side of the library didn’t help—the rabbit was there in moments.
Struck again, Rita shouted over her shoulder, "I wanted to play this game as a normal student, but you forced me!"
Then she raised Wrathful Moon. The lantern’s glow spilled over her as she cast Shadow of the Moon, slipping into the shadow world.
The Library’s Eyes still clung to her with a faint white glow, but every attack passed harmlessly through her.
The rabbit stopped in the corridor, whip drooping, visibly annoyed. It had forgotten about that trick.
Then a shadow loomed overhead. A cold voice dropped down like ice water: "You lost her?"
Deceitful Bloom: "..."
The rabbit, barely waist-high to the Librarian towering over her, tilted its head back. Barista stared down, frown etched deep.
After a heavy pause, Barista spoke, voice grim. "So it really is true. Everything they said."
She left without another word, stalking off to lash other students.
Deceitful Bloom: ?????
What did that mean, "so it really is true"? What had they been saying behind her back? At least explain before storming off!
The shadow world had its downside: she couldn’t touch anything. Which meant no searching for numbers.
So she settled into a rhythm. Slip into shadows when the rabbit or other Librarians closed in, then reemerge to scavenge.
The result was a library that blacked out at random, flickering like a faulty breaker every time she triggered Shadow of the Moon.
It made her wonder—was there some hidden link between Shadow of the Moon and Wrathful Moon? Just holding the lantern didn’t trigger the whole "darkness swallowing the world except one light" effect. Yet using Shadow of the Moon did. Maybe because she was "using" moonlight itself as a medium?
Before long, the rabbit got sick of chasing. It took to the air above the central rotunda, its golden whip extending far enough to reach nearly every corner of the floor. Rita had no choice but to stay shadowed, or risk instant pursuit.
That meant she couldn’t gather new numbers. Others only had to dodge Librarians. She had the Chief dogging her every step.
She waited at the stairwell. By her earlier observation, vending machines and stair tickets cycled every fifteen minutes. An hour had passed. Right on cue, the numbers shifted—21.
She had no idea if the rabbit could pay the toll to change floors. But earlier, even when Riot Time broke out on other levels, the Chief hadn’t moved. Maybe it had restrictions.
She handed over two numbers and slipped past the barrier. At the top of the steps, she glanced back—just in time to meet the rabbit’s glare.
Unbelievable. It really was chasing her floor to floor.
She remembered exactly what that Librarian had said to the rabbit earlier. And she was certain it had been for her ears. When they whispered before, it had been in divine tongue. But this time, clear Arisentnan.
Straightening her face, she imitated the Librarian’s heavy tone. "So it’s true. Everything they said."
Then, with a deliberately complicated look at the rabbit’s wide-eyed, maskless expression, she turned and ran upstairs.
Deceitful Bloom: ... She’s already picking up Barista’s bad habits?
Turning back, she almost ran straight into Barista, whip ready.
Deceitful Bloom snapped in divine tongue, "She learned this from you."
Barista feigned a gasp, hand to mouth. "What? Are you saying you and Foolishness ever taught her any noble virtues?"
Deceitful Bloom: ...Well. No.