Deep Within the Living-Chapter 56: Teachers and Containment Objects

As a nationally recognized key high school, Jupiter City No. 4 High School had maintained a spotless safety record for over two decades since its founding. Even in the absence of incidents, the school invested heavily in safety measures to ensure no physical Corners emerged and to suppress impersonators immediately upon detection.
The school’s security efforts could be divided into two main groups:
Security Task Force:
Compliant with the city’s secondary security standards. While not as advanced as a primary team or professional investigators, the task force members were experienced in combat and equipped with suppression gear purchased from “the Company.”
Their appearance was reminiscent of riot police seen in films, typically armed with high-voltage batons, tasers, and tactical knives. Squad leaders were authorized to carry 9mm pistols, fitted with blood-testing triggers:
Upon pulling the trigger for the first time, a needle extracts a small blood sample from the user. The weapon's safety unlocks only if the test confirms the individual is not an impersonator.
Due to the increasing number of impersonators infiltrating society, firearms were under stringent regulation nationwide.
Physical Education Teachers:
These teachers represented the pinnacle of the school’s combat capability. Beyond their inherent physical skills, most possessed Cornerized Tools or other enhancements tied to the Corners, making them a formidable force.
This dual layer of protection—security personnel and PE teachers—was why schools managed to maintain stability despite the increasing frequency of anomalous events nationwide.
Now, however, the school, long regarded as a safe zone, faced a danger far beyond ordinary anomalies.
[Academic Building Area]
Due to the evening fitness test, all students were concentrated in the sports center. Only teachers tasked with organizing cultural and logical reasoning exam papers remained in the academic building, working overtime.
The Seams had barely formed when a security patrol, led by the task force captain, passed by the academic building. Their detection devices immediately flashed red, signaling an intense anomaly inside.
Confident in the presence of PE teachers at the sports field, the captain decisively ordered the patrol to search the academic building. Their directive was clear: investigate thoroughly and eliminate any suspicious impersonators on sight.
On the fifth floor of the academic building, in the restroom deep within the corridor, Academic Director Dong Lan emerged after a bout of food poisoning, her face twisted with irritation. She made a mental note to "thank" the food supplier tomorrow.
Dong had a task to complete that evening—she needed to check the senior-year exam papers in the staff office and deliver the sealed documents to the transport vehicle after the fitness test concluded.
But when Dong returned to the office, the teachers who were supposed to be working there were nowhere to be seen. Some of the exam papers were even scattered across the floor.
“I was gone for half an hour, and these slackers vanished?” Dong, fuming, prepared to call and reprimand the missing teachers. She quickly realized, however, that the new fitness test protocol had disabled campus signals—her phone was useless.
Having worked at No. 4 High for 20 years, Dong never entertained the possibility of anything sinister. She assumed it was simply a “mass rebellion” by the teachers.
Determined not to clean up the mess herself, she marched in her high heels toward the security room, planning to use her authority to drag the “rebels” back to work.
But as she walked, something felt off.
The corridor seemed longer than usual, the turn she should have reached by now still nowhere in sight. Dong remembered the office-to-classroom path as a short one.
The sharp clacking of her heels echoed unnaturally in the building, now eerily silent. The lights in the corridor dimmed gradually; some flickered, others went completely dark.
When Dong finally rounded the corner, arriving at the classroom area where she had always exuded confidence and authority, her composure crumbled.
The security personnel she had been seeking were there—lined up on the corridor railing, fully equipped and standing stiffly.
Before Dong could speak, the guards removed their helmets in unison.
Then, one by one, they leaned forward and plummeted to the ground.
Thud! Thud! Thud!
The sickening sound of breaking bones echoed as their bodies landed below.
Terrified but unable to resist, Dong peeked over the railing.
The floor below was strewn with the shattered bodies of not only the guards who had just fallen but also over a dozen others who had jumped earlier. Their heads had smashed open, leaving unrecognizable remains.
Yet, amidst the sea of corpses, no teachers were in sight.
Dong tried to flee, but her trembling legs refused to move.
An administrator who had immigrated to the school, Dong had never undergone any training. Two decades of peaceful campus life had erased any familiarity with fear.
Then came the sound of footsteps behind her.
Turning around, Dong saw the last person she wanted to see—her most disliked cultural studies teacher, Guo Wenhui.
But in her fear-stricken state, even seeing Guo felt like salvation.
“Mr. Guo, help me! Let’s get out of here! Call the investigators now!” she demanded, her tone still steeped in authority despite her terror.
Guo, unfazed, moved toward her with his usual calm demeanor, extending a hand.
But instead of helping her, he raised a finger and gently tapped her forehead.
Ten seconds later...
Thud!
A body fell from the building, its head embedded in the ground, a pair of outdated black high heels suspended lifelessly in the air.
Guo observed the scene with satisfaction before heading toward the staircase.
But instead of descending, he climbed to the rooftop, stepping to the edge to gaze toward the sports center, as though confirming something.
He stood there for several minutes until a metallic sound interrupted him.
Turning around, he saw the source: a metal container placed on the rooftop, housing one of the “derivatives” intended for the fitness test.
According to school protocols, derivatives were cadavers injected with a small dose of anomaly cells. Their strength was equivalent to that of an impersonator less than six months old, posing no significant threat.
Guo approached cautiously, circling the container to inspect it. Then, pressing his hand to the lock, he applied a force.
Crack!
The alloy lock twisted and broke, revealing the derivative inside—a standing corpse.
Its surface shimmered with a strange luster, visible even in the dark.
Like a reanimated Frankenstein’s monster, the corpse moved with stiff, mechanical motions, stopping just half a meter from Guo.
Plop.
An eyeball slid from its socket, leaving its empty, gleaming eye cavity reflecting a mysterious glow as if something was lurking within.
Gaji Gaji~
A living, iridescent tentacle slithered out of the corpse’s empty eye socket, swaying in the air. Though it appeared slow and harmless at first, it suddenly accelerated, aiming to pierce Guo.
But just as the tentacle was about to strike straight at him, it veered off course, grazing past his temple and missing its mark.
The tentacle, undeterred by its failure, immediately adjusted its trajectory and launched a new attack toward the back of Guo’s head.
Buzz!
Yet the result was the same—each time it neared its target, an invisible force distorted its path.
The tentacle tried five more times, and each attempt ended in failure. Finally, it ceased its assault and hovered in front of Guo, its tip glowing faint green. It appeared to be observing him, perhaps using some specialized sensory mechanism—or possibly engaging in a form of non-verbal communication.
After roughly two minutes, the corpse reinserted its eyeball, the glow fading. It no longer regarded Guo as a target.
Guo, on the other hand, seemed to have reached some sort of epiphany. A rare smile spread across his face, one that hinted at a purpose distinct from the current Seams selection.
[The Capital – Earth City]
Deep within a fortress-like, colossal metal structure, a well-dressed, middle-aged man with neatly parted hair sat in his room, engrossed in a book. Occasionally, he would glance at his notebook, jotting down lines of literary inspiration.
Ding-dong.
The doorbell chimed.
“Come in,” the man said without lifting his eyes from the book.
At his invitation, a group of individuals clad in the highest-grade protective suits opened the door but refrained from stepping inside. The leader carried what resembled a recording device.
“Mr. Craft, may I ask about the current status of exams at all schools? Are your derivatives stable?”
“100% stable. No abnormalities whatsoever,” he replied calmly.
“Thank you for your cooperation.”
The group nodded and exited, leaving the man alone in his fortress once again.