Chapter 1780: Chapter 1780

"... A beautiful counter-run, Rod broke away from the hunters surrounding him, jumped out of the pocket, and the Flamingo team regained control of the match. Twelve points! We have to admit, hunting is all about talent. Few hunters realize they are in the encirclement while being surrounded..."

A familiar yet abrupt voice overshadowed this broadcast, ringing loudly in Zheng Qing’s ears: "The most talented hunter in our Absolution, probably Mr. Zha."

"Aren’t the Elders considered talented?"

"Me? I just worked harder and trained more than others. Mr. Zha is truly amazing. Before entering the school, he didn’t even know about this whole hunting thing, but in the end, he led us to win the championship of the freshman competition!"

"More impressively, he still had time to be a scoundrel, dating several girlfriends, utterly crazy!"

Amidst a chorus of agreement, the staticky broadcast from the Speaker Flowers mixed in:

"...Last month in Madrid, Dove Langming rode Andre’s face with a Bear Summoning Spell... Will Andre, this fiery-tempered hunter from Kaliningrad, use an even more humiliating method to regain his reputation today? This is a scene worth anticipating... Many have sneaked in, many are approaching! Shadow Stab! The Wild Demon King has suffered a critical hit! Oh no, Miss Bella from the Crimson has been long waiting there, delivering a perfect demon head to the other side! Other hunters of the Crimson Hunting Team are seeing red, but they can’t catch up with Miss Bella; she’s already 200 meters away in the safe zone..."

Another voice piped over the broadcast, speaking enthusiastically: "I’ve always liked beauties like Miss Bella, well-proportioned, with a good personality!"

"Ha, to pursue Miss Bella, you’d have to enter the four major hunting teams of the New World, or like Su Councilor and Sister Korma, become a Big Wizard at a young age!"

"Their personalities are all part of their public image! You know what a public image is? It’s just a show for the public, completely different from how they are in private... Believe me, I’ve worked at the campus newspaper long enough to know these things inside out!"

"I never said I liked her real-life self either." The first voice argued loudly: "Does liking her necessarily mean I have to have her? I’m content just watching from afar."

"There’s a term for that attitude, called a ’bootlicker.’"

"You’re not just a bootlicker; you’re a vampire bootlicker, or simply a ’vamplicker.’

A burst of laughter mixed with the agitated cursing of a certain vampire made the broadcast from the Speaker Flowers increasingly faint:

"...Green Hunting Ground, yet another glorious day today, the Flamingo team now leads the Crimson Hunting Team four to three! The line-up on the field is now three to four, and the Flamingo team has completely broken the Crimson’s chance to advance further. Because there are no stronger substitutes available for the Crimson team; their main players are now laid up in the emergency room... The next hunting competition will be the Crimson team’s last match of the year..."

The familiar voices of friends chatting and the staticky broadcast from the Speaker Flowers alternated in Zheng Qing’s ears, uniquely annoying.

He felt like his ears were an old radio with aging parts, hard to make it work properly even if squeezed of its last potential.

Once he realized this, those formerly distant and blurry sounds suddenly became much closer, as if someone had pressed the speaker of the Speaker Flowers right against his ear.

Simultaneously, a bright and vibrant red color abruptly lit up, like a rope dropping into the Abyss, pulling his consciousness out from the darkness.

Zheng Qing’s eyelids twitched, opening a slit.

The piercing light immediately shone on his eyeballs, prompting him to instinctively close his lids, retracting his gaze. Even so, he still felt his eyelids burning, as if a boiling magma was brewing beneath ready to erupt.

He mumbled, groaning lowly: "...Water!"

The previously noisy environment instantly quieted down, Zheng Qing strenuously parted his eyelids a sliver and then shut them once more, mumbling, repeating that word.

He felt his tongue seemed no longer his own, becoming sluggish and numb.

It seemed like a small breeze swept over his cheeks, and then the familiar voices erupted once again beside Zheng Qing’s ears, like ducks forced into water.

"Awake! Awake! Mr. Zha is awake!"

"Finally awake... I thought he planned to sleep for months when I saw him this morning!"

"Perhaps because he was scoundrelly for too long, he’s become all weak and feeble."

The noisy clamor and teasing was ever-present, stirring a sense of irritation within Zheng Qing, but soon, a bit of coolness trickled onto his lips, alleviating the dryness from inside out and suppressing that irritation.

The sound of curtains being drawn up was heard, and Zheng Qing immediately felt his previously flushed red eyelids turning somewhat darker, and the heat on his cheeks reduced.

He finally opened his eyes.

Awakening from a long period of darkness.

What met his eyes was the familiar white ceiling of the school hospital, with a few half-used candles still flickering on it, wisps of milky white smoke seeping gently from the wicks, reminiscent of melting dry ice.

A few Sprites carrying towels and medicine bottles flitted lightly past his sight with their chuckling laughter, trailing a white mist behind them as they passed those candles, as if donned in beautiful veils.

The young Warlock laboriously tilted his head slightly.

The window was draped with white curtains, and the golden sunlight piercing through them was scattered and faint, not causing any pain even when looked at directly.

A tall figure suddenly blocked Zheng Qing’s view, shadowing the window and the sunlight outside.

It was the therapist of the school hospital, surnamed Ma. Zheng Qing had a deep impression of his long face, of course, he believed his own image on the other party was also quite profound, as few students remained hospitalized at Jiuyou Academy for extended periods.

Doctor Ma held up two fingers and waved them in front of the boy’s eyes: "Think it through before answering."

Simultaneously, several cold instruments were clamped roughly to Zheng Qing’s ears and wrists, and a hard, iron-like object was stuffed onto his chest, making Zheng Qing feel as if his ribs were about to be poked through.

The young cost student hissed through the cold air, trying to suppress his impulse to roll his eyes, and answered hoarsely in a feeble voice: "Two."

"What is two plus one?"

"Very good, there’s progress."

The therapist paused for a few seconds before removing those instruments, nodding in satisfaction: "Two pieces of news, one good and one bad. The good news is your brain is still clear, retaining basic logical recognition. The bad news is, your body is still a mess, you can only continue lying in the hospital bed for the short term."