永斌 闫
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OJTTEG-Chapter 17: Typically, That's When You Poop In The Pants
🕑 Added 2025-09-25 03:25:05 +0000 UTCEvening.
There's about 20 minutes left until the last class ends.
"Plop."
A small paper ball suddenly lands in front of Haunter, coming from Fiona's direction. The teacher isn't paying attention, so why doesn't she just say what she wants directly instead of tossing a paper ball?
Feeling a bit puzzled, Haunter looks up and sees a hint of pink on Fiona's ears. What's she embarrassed about?
Come on, buddy, I thought we were friends, but you...
Amused, Haunter opens the little note.
[Do you have plans tonight? After school, I'd like you to meet me at St. Andrew's Park at 8:00 PM. I have something I'd like to say to you alone.]
Hmm. It makes sense—a good friend you've known for almost three years suddenly throws a straightforward confession your way. Very reasonable.
Yet, somehow, it also feels unreasonable.
"Sure, I agree."
Haunter replies, glancing casually at Cain, who is also looking curiously at Fiona with her flushed ears.
This plot is thrilling, and quite coincidental too.
It's like we're on the same wavelength, An.
Haunter glances at An sitting in the front row, and she’s looking back at him, their gazes intertwining.
"What does she mean?" Cain whispers, "What does the note say?"
"That may be hard to tell you."
"Come on, just tell me. I really like Fiona. I've never seen such a stunning girl. If she's planning to confess to you, I'll back off."
He looks so dejected.
"Alright, alright, I'll tell you a bit: tonight, she's planning to invite me to the City Mall," Haunter says with an earnest look. "She wants to buy a birthday gift for some handsome guy."
Well, there is a City Mall next to the park, but it's long been abandoned and is under reconstruction.
"Huh? Who's Fiona buying a birthday gift for?" Cain asks, "Is it for you?"
"May I ask, when's your birthday?"
Could it be for me? Cain's eyes widen.
So gullible, Haunter thinks.
"I really like her. If possible, I want to leave a good impression on her."
Cain rests his head on his hand, talking to himself.
"Heh heh."
This guy is truly a hopeless romantic.
……
7:55 AM.
An's room isn't the typical girly type; instead, it's filled with simplicity and convenience. Besides essentials like a wardrobe, bed, and desk, there's nothing extra in the spacious room.
"Ugh...?"
Anastasia groggily opens her eyes, first glancing around aimlessly before her gaze settles on the phone by her bedside.
"It's only 7:55. I can sleep a bit more."
Wait a minute. Class starts at 8:00, doesn't it? As the thought hits her, her head barely touches the pillow before she jolts up as if shocked.
She blinks, her eyes slowly regaining focus.
Oh no!
This damn physique condition makes her energetic at night but drowsy during the day.
An quickly flails around, not even pausing to wonder why Ormond didn't wake her. She hurriedly throws on her clothes, grabs her backpack and some food, and rushes out the door.
On her way out, she gives the cat's fur a backwards stroke.
"Meow!" Senior protests with a yowl.
"Bleh!"
An sticks out her tongue playfully.
"Damn, there's no time."
It's close to 8 AM, and this isn't the usual time for students to be heading to class. Most of the people on the street are office workers. Faced with the bustling crowd, An feels helpless.
Well, actually, there is a way—though it's a bit risky.
With graduation approaching, attendance is crucial. If she's late or something happens, Ormond will worry.
Aren't the rooftops spacious enough?
Seeing no one around, An quickly ducks into an alley, tightly securing her backpack and food to herself. She takes a deep breath and closes her eyes, feeling her heartbeat grow intense. As it reaches a certain threshold, her eyes turn a vivid red, her nails sharpen, and a slight bulge appears near her lower back.
To a normal person, a sudden bulge in that area might seem like pooping in the pants.
But it's actually a tail—very flexible, with a smooth surface and no scales. It feels cool to the touch.
"What a hassle."
An mutters, wrapping the smooth tail around her waist.
In mere seconds, a shadow swiftly moves across the rooftops of various buildings. Within just a few breaths, An approaches the school at a nearly airborne speed.
The school building has six floors, and her class is on the third. An first lands on the top floor, then races down the stairwell from the rooftop. As she runs, she takes deep breaths, and as her heartbeat slows, the tail wrapped around her waist quickly retracts, and her eyes return to their usual dark red hue.
The bell rings, and An manages to sit in her seat just moments before the teacher enters the room.
Not even a drop of sweat appears. With such physical prowess, An could easily take down Haunter in an instant if she wanted to.
Over the past three years, she's gained even greater control over her unique abilities.
"At this time, he should already be here. He usually eats a sandwich first, then drinks milk."
Haunter, sipping his milk, suddenly feels a chill run down his spine. He starts looking around, trying to identify the source of this pressure.
He'll glance at me, and as long as I look away before that, he'll find nothing.
An averts her gaze.
Sure enough, as An looks elsewhere, Haunter's eyes lock onto her.
Everything predicted. She understands him completely now.
Living under the same roof for three years, An hasn't come away empty-handed; she's gathered extensive intel.
Every morning, this guy named Haunter visits the city library, searching through various materials. The books he borrows are bizarrely eclectic, as if he's trying to comprehend this world—like someone who crossed over from another realm.
However, after befriending the library's security staff, An managed to copy a full set of surveillance footage using her own methods. That's when she saw Haunter secretly photographing books with his phone, specifically those about vampire legends.
What kind of person would secretly photograph vampire legends?
This suggests he doesn't truly understand her. Vampires are one of the oldest races on this continent, and there's no reason he wouldn't know about them—unless he's not the ancient sorcerer or mystic he pretends to be.
