Chapter 1

Black Mamba swept the art room in the art building with a flashlight.

The art room wasn't exactly spotless. Wooden easels were scattered haphazardly throughout the corners.

On the wooden table to the left of the classroom were many oil painting palettes and paint bottles, as well as several rolls of unfinished oil sketches.

On the wooden table to the right of the classroom were plaster statues of David, Voltaire, and other figures, along with plaster cubes and spheres.

In the back of the classroom were many marble statues.

Although Black Mamba, as an excellent programmer, was a straight-laced guy, he had specially read many art books in college to woo a senior from the fine arts department.

He could recognize the prototypes of these plaster statues.

"This is 'David,' this is 'The Dying Slave,' this is 'The Rebellious Slave,' this is 'Aphrodite of Milos,' this is 'Saint Mark,' this is 'Hercules Fighting Antaeus'..."

Black Mamba's artistic appreciation was quite good. The statues were exquisitely crafted, the techniques were delicate, and the artistic achievement was high, which didn't match the somewhat messy art classroom at all.

It was as if a box of 1982 Lafite was placed in a vending machine on the side of the road.

The most special thing was that in the center of this group of statues, there was a white marble statue whose prototype Black Mamba could not recognize.

It was a woman kneeling on a pedestal, with her hands on her knees, her posture graceful, dignified, and holy. A wreath adorned her head, and her face, covered with a thin veil, was neither happy nor sad, but looked quietly ahead.

This was a marble statue, but the veil covering "her" face was so soft and translucent, as if there really was a silk scarf covering her face.

Black Mamba had seen the "Veiled Lady" and "The Bride" created by the Italian sculptor Raffaelle Monti (1818-1881) in books.

(These two statues are recognized as two of the most outstanding statues in the history of sculpture.)

However, the feeling that this woman's statue placed in a messy classroom brought to Black Mamba was even more shocking.

Even people who didn't understand art at all would be moved by the pure beauty of this artistic creation created by humans when they stood in front of "her."

Something abnormal was bound to happen. Black Mamba resisted the urge to put "her" in his backpack and silently took a few steps back.

He turned on the detection function of the Code Insight Glasses and looked at the statue.

A string of green data streams flowed through the lenses of the glasses, but none of them showed that the unnamed statue was carrying abnormal data.

"Am I being too suspicious?"

He frowned, rubbed his dry eyes, and muttered to himself, "I wonder how Li Risheng is doing..."

Suddenly, he widened his eyes and stared at the statue as if he were a goose being choked.

In the blink of an eye, "she" seemed to have moved. Her hands, which were originally placed on her knees, were now pressed on the base of the statue.

It looked like she was about to stand up from the ground.

This was not an illusion.

As a veteran player, Black Mamba knew very well that any small "abnormality" in a script mission might hide a fatal danger.

He kept his eyes on the unnamed statue, took out the Casio calculator called "When a Mathematician Realizes He's Wrong," pointed the front of the calculator at the unnamed statue, and pressed his finger on the reset button.

The cooldown time of this piece of equipment was as long as 15 minutes, and there was only one chance to attack in a life-and-death battle.

If Black Mamba misjudged, he might lose his biggest trump card in the next script mission.

In the slightly messy art classroom, a man and a statue faced each other from a distance.

Black Mamba watched the setting sun about to fall on the ridge out of the corner of his eye, and a burst of anxiety and irritability welled up in his heart.

One hand continued to hold the Casio calculator, while the other hand took out a short-barreled, yellowish-brown, old copper hand cannon.

Name: Simple Disposable Hand Cannon

Type: Weapon

Quality: Rare

Attack Power: Medium

Special Effect: Sparkling fireworks. Fires more than a dozen qiandan (lead bullets) and deals fire damage to the fan-shaped area in front.

Consumption: 5% of overall stamina

Cooldown time: None. The loading of qiandan (lead bullets) and huoyao (gunpowder) must be done manually.

Equipment condition: Strength attribute greater than or equal to 6

Note: This ancient hand cannon, which can be traced back to the Yongle period of the Ming Dynasty, has considerable lethality, but when used, the flames ejected from the qiang (gun) muzzle will also burn the user's palm. Therefore, the words "To hurt others, first hurt yourself" are engraved on the qiang (gun) body.

This ancient hand cannon that could be put in a museum was another rare piece of equipment that Black Mamba carried.

Don't look at this thing like it's about to fall apart, but its attack power is quite good.

When the trigger is pulled, a fan-shaped high-temperature flame will spew out from the qiang (gun) muzzle.

The qiandan (lead bullets) in the flames can also cause damage to spiritual bodies.

It's just that the loading process is a bit cumbersome. After each qiang (gun) is fired, you have to manually load qiandan (lead bullets) and huoyao (gunpowder) into it. It's really "one second to fire the qiang (gun), one minute to reload."

Black Mamba held the short-barreled hand cannon and slowly approached the statue. At the moment when he reached the maximum damage range of the hand cannon, he pulled the trigger.

With a loud bang, the seemingly dilapidated hand cannon spewed out raindrops of tiny qiandan (lead bullets), hitting a large pile of marble statues in the back of the classroom.

The statues, which could be called works of art, were hit by qiandan (lead bullets), and fragments flew, swaying and falling backward.

The fan-shaped flames coming out of the qiang (gun) muzzle burned the statues that were still standing into dirty, blackish-gray colors.

When the flames and smoke cleared, Black Mamba, with a solemn expression, took a half step back in horror.

In the back of the classroom, there were originally only one unnamed statue, but now there were two.

Moreover, "they" were no longer kneeling, but stood up from the ground, reaching their arms forward, towards Black Mamba.

It was like... trying to embrace him.

Black Mamba felt a chill run down his back and didn't even notice the stinging burning sensation coming from his palm.