[BL] Daily Disposable Persona

42: The King of Clouds 11

"We haven't received a warning from the seventh Monarch at all. Little Monarch, did you make a mistake somewhere?"

The voice coming from the other end of the phone made Zong Yan's heart fall into the ice.

"You didn't receive it... How is that possible?" As he lost his composure he shouted, and his eyes glazed over.

Zong Yan's fingers were shaking. In front of his eyes the floor began to fuse with large chunks of color. His line of sight was so obscured by "madness" that everything was strange and blurry.

It was clear that the memory of what was about to happen had a severe impact on Zong Yan.

The collapse of the city and the deaths of countless investigators...

Even if Zong Yan liked to joke about things most of the time, how could he laugh after seeing so many of his compatriots and companions die without even being able to fight back. Of course he was afraid, of course he was angry, of course he broke down.

That's why he was so determined to prevent it.

"Little Monarch, is it possible you're so stressed out from studying that you're imagining things?" He Yuan asked with some concern. "If you don't feel well, you can take leave and go to MU's medical office."

While investigators liked to joke privately that the medical office of Miskatonic University didn't treat the living, MU's doctors were highly skilled, especially when they combined their techniques with alchemy. They could snatch a person back from Hell even if he was missing an arm, a leg, or an organ.

A moment later, He Yuan heard the dull sound of the phone hanging up.

The doorkeeper in the guard room turned off the radio and scolded, "What's going on? School is in session. What class are you in? Why are you standing here shouting?!"

Just then Ye JingMing came running over. He panted heavily while glaring at Zong Yan.

"Oh, I see, you're a third year student. Senior three is a lot of pressure. You need to learn how to deal with stress. Don't try to hold it in." It so happened that the guard knew Ye JingMing, the vice captain of the boy's basketball team, so he waved his hand and told them to leave. "If you don't feel well, go to the infirmary, all right? Dr. Dexter, are you going out?"

"Well, it's such a nice day. I thought I'd go for a walk." The doctor in the white coat came out of the school with a cheerful smile on his face. "Aha, is this student not feeling well?"

Dr. Ambrose Dexter was Qingyang High School's recently recruited director of the school infirmary. Although he was a foreigner he spoke Chinese exceptionally well.

He wasn't black, but he had a very dark tan.

A foreigner with a doctorate from Harvard Medical School and excellent skills was hired by an ordinary high school to be the head of the infirmary. It was unconventional to say the least.

But no one had any doubts. They automatically accepted this unbelievable setting.

Zong Yan lifted his head. Right now there were only colorful patches left in his retinas. It felt like millions of tiny needles were piercing his brain.

Pain, the pain was unbearable.

The agony gave him an unsightly expression. His face was as pale as paper, like he was drowning on dry land.

"It looks like this student really isn't feeling well." The dark-skinned doctor smiled, but his hands were dishonest. He wrapped one arm around the black-haired teen's shoulders, steadying him as he tottered, and covered Zong Yan's forehead with his other hand. "Maybe I should take him to the infirmary for some rest."