I Got My Cheat Skill by Acting My Way into a Horror Protagonist Role Chapter 101

He retraced the path he’d come from, hoping this time there wouldn’t be any uninvited guests to block them.

The orphanage remained quiet; at this hour you couldn’t see any of the children outside.

Walking with Teacher Xu, they only encountered one caregiver and one social worker.

Their heads were bowed so deeply that the angle was eerie and distorted, almost touching their chests, hiding their faces.

The vertebrae at the nape of their necks jutted out grotesquely, as if they might tear through flesh any second. After bowing in salute they hurried away.

Right now the Proxy System was dumbfounded, and the rules here were a mess. He didn’t know how Xu Zisheng was doing.

If they had the Proxy System probe him later, he wasn’t sure whether it could detect anything.

After all, unlike others, Xu Zisheng’s real body had been dragged into this; the harm he’d suffered was tangible.

But Xu Zisheng was one of the Chosen Ones of Fate—Xiao Gui’an had already seen plenty of his capabilities. This was only the second day of the scenario, so there probably wouldn’t be any major problems.

By the way, did Xu Zisheng keep his original youthful appearance, or did he change his face?

“Ding-ling—” Two rusted bells hung from the cafeteria door and tinkled crisply when Teacher Xu, without hesitation, opened it. The sound was very obvious in the silent dining hall.

Xiao Gui’an lifted his gaze slightly and noticed that the doll-holding girl, Xiao Qing, hadn’t behaved like this before.

Back then she had knocked carefully, and the door was pushed outward from the inside.

Only a thin gap showed, so almost no sound came from it; everything had been very quiet.

But now, as an administrator, Teacher Xu didn’t appear to have those restrictions.

She really was strict.

Would a player be punished on the first day just for pushing the door in and making a sound?

It was possible—

This place wasn’t an orphanage so much as a prison with draconian rules.

Rows of iron long tables filled the cafeteria; scraps of food and grease were everywhere, the hygiene appalling.

Filthy dishes held unrecognizable lumps of food, sticky and glistening, streaked with things that looked like veins of blood.

Orphans of various ages sat sparsely along both sides of the tables—some huddled in little groups, others alone.

At the sight of the two figures entering, the children immediately stopped eating, then rose neatly and bowed deeply, greeting Teacher Xu, “Good evening, Teacher Xu—”

The woman’s face was severe and pallid; she answered coldly and didn’t seem to find anything odd. She turned slightly aside, fully revealing the Writer standing behind her.

In that jarring, grating voice she introduced, “This is your new teacher.”

After saying that she took a step back, as if leaving the stage to the Writer.

Xiao Gui’an’s discreet gaze swept over the group, trying to spot which one might be Xu Zisheng by the napes of their necks.

“New teacher, hello!—” The neat, strong voices echoed again through the enclosed cafeteria; not a single child dared risk lifting their head to look at their new teacher.

“Hello everyone. I hope I’m not disturbing you. Sit down for now; I’ll just watch you here.”

The Writer’s voice carried a special gentleness and consideration, calm and soothing like a soft night breeze that made people feel tranquil and at ease.

“You’re not disturbing us.” With heads bowed, the orphans answered only the first half in unison; they seemed not to have heard the Writer’s invitation to sit.

“This……” The Writer tilted his head slightly and glanced at Teacher Xu.

Receiving the Writer’s look, Teacher Xu hesitated a beat, then commanded in a harsh tone, “Do you all not listen to the new teacher? Sit—”

Only after that did the orphans hesitate, then slowly sit down one by one, still not daring to cast their eyes forward.

They stared only at the food on their trays, as if only their dinner mattered.

Judging by their reactions, the Writer guessed that if he suddenly moved closer, the children would scatter like birds startled by a snapped string. Fear seemed deeply rooted in them.

“You all just do your own things. Sit, please. I’ll say a few words—don’t worry about me.”

At that, the orphans put down their utensils again and listened quietly to the Writer.

“I’m your new teacher. From now on I’ll teach you these lessons. My surname is Yan—the same yan as in ‘rivers clear and seas calm.’ You may call me Teacher Yan or Mr. Yan…”

“I hope we can get along well. If you encounter any difficulties, come to me and I will help you…”

“You’re all good children. If there are things I don’t know later, I’ll ask you for help…”

He spoke a long string of sentences without a trace of impatience; that soft, watery kindness seemed to chip away at their defenses little by little.

Finally one orphan, as if charmed, couldn’t help glancing at their mysterious new teacher.

She was a very obedient-looking little girl. Her bright, watery eyes reflected the Writer’s elegant, gentle face and attractive, delicate features.

People are always drawn to beauty; at such a young age the girl had even less resistance to a beautiful presence.

Her companion’s heart tightened—he hadn’t expected her to actually look up—and he immediately yanked at the girl’s sleeve, trying to bring her back to her senses.

“Ah!……” The little girl startled and belatedly realized her rudeness.

Her face went pale; fear filled her eyes, her eyelashes trembling violently as she dropped her head.

Many of the orphans braced for punishment, but the Writer remained where he was, as if nothing had happened.

“You all seem a little shy, but that’s okay. We’ll get to know each other over time…”

The Writer continued to speak gently, keeping a proper distance so he wouldn’t overwhelm them.

That gave the children a good deal of courage; one by one they timidly lifted their heads and looked forward.

The Writer standing before them looked as if he’d stepped out of a painting, just as the books described.

A gentleman like jade, peerless along the path.

They probably had never seen someone with the Writer’s bearing and temperament before.

The orphans who looked at him felt awkward, quickly averting their eyes and lowering their heads after a hurried glimpse.

Someone like him shouldn’t belong in such a grim, stifling place, and certainly shouldn’t be mixed with their dirty, unwanted group of kids.

There was no harshness, no scolding.

Something felt different.

Many of the orphans seemed bolder and secretly stole glances at the Writer, shyly.

If one of them accidentally met his gaze, the refined youth would return a warm, pleasant smile—dazzling enough to leave one stunned.

The atmosphere relaxed; it wasn’t as oppressive and cold as before.

Great! This would be the first step in my teaching career—very good! The atmosphere is pretty decent!

Actually communicating with the kids isn’t that hard, right? Just be patient—

Keep it up!

Xiao Gui’an had just allowed himself a small relaxation of his expression when the suddenly pushed-open door shattered everything, accompanied by a somewhat cold, hard voice: “Dragging your feet—why aren’t you finished yet?”

At that, the orphans stiffened, quickly averting their eyes and stuffing the sticky food into their mouths faster.

Ah, all the progress undone—

He had barely warmed the room, only to have it spoiled. Xiao Gui’an watched helplessly as the children retreated into their shells like quail.

A dark flash crossed Xiao Gui’an’s deep eyes; he lifted his head and met the newcomer—