NABC Chapter 49 Lin Feng's Reasoning: "Laughter" Might Be a Form of Pollution
Chapter 49 Lin Feng's Reasoning: "Laughter" Might Be a Form of Pollution
This time, it was Mr. Zhang's turn to freeze.
His "kind" smile froze on his face, and his hand, which was handing over the plate, remained suspended in mid-air.
He encountered a target that seemed to have a "bad signal" or even be "out of service".
Master Zhang's inhuman rage seemed to freeze. He stared intently at Lin Feng's back as he sleepwalked towards his seat, his facial muscles twitching. Finally, he put away the fried pork chop, snorted heavily, and turned his gaze to the next trembling chosen one—Park Bu-sung.
Park Bu-sung instantly felt as if his legs were filled with lead, or as if he were walking on cotton, each step unsteady and unstable.
The strong smell of blood still seemed to linger in his nostrils, reminding him of the horror that existed behind the window.
"Next!" Master Zhang's impatient, hoarse voice was like a death knell.
Park Bu-sung jumped, almost shuffling to the window, and trembling as he handed over the plate.
With a loud thud, the sticky stew was slammed down.
He prayed frantically in his heart: "I'm a bad student, I'm a bad student, please don't give me extra food, please..."
However, Murphy's Law, which seems to predict exactly what will happen, still came true.
Master Zhang raised his head, forcing a very incongruous "kind" smile onto his face once again, making the scar on his left cheek appear even more grotesque.
"You... are a good student too." That gentle tone sounded more chilling than any roar at that moment.
Park Bu-sung's mind went blank for a moment, as if "buzzing".
Rule number four was ringing in his mind like an alarm bell, but fear, like an invisible shackle, pinned him firmly to the spot, making him stop breathing.
He looked at the plate of fragrant fried pork cutlets handed to him, as if it were a one-way ticket to hell.
"Take it, good student!" Master Zhang urged coldly.
Park Bu-sung was completely stunned, his pupils dilated, and cold sweat instantly soaked his back.
At the critical moment, Vassim, who was following behind, quietly raised his foot and kicked Park Bu-sung hard in the calf!
A sharp pain instantly pierced through Park Bu-sung's paralyzed fear, causing him to stagger and simultaneously snap back to reality—
Lin Feng!
Learn from Lin Feng's approach!
Driven by his survival instinct, Park Bu-sung immediately began his "performance".
He tried to mimic Lin Feng's previous empty gaze, his eyes drifting into the distance, his lips moving rapidly as he muttered in low, fast breaths in Korean:
"...'강산도세월에따라변하나니...' (The country changes with the years...)... '백성의마음을얻는것이지극한보배라...' (Those who win the hearts of the people are even treasures...)..."
He mechanically "recited" the text while, like a sleepwalker, carrying a tray, he moved unsteadily from the window.
Master Zhang's "kind" expression froze again, his hand holding the plate stopped in mid-air, seemingly feeling frustrated and confused by this "disconnected" handling method.
He glared fiercely at Park Bu-sung's retreating figure, letting out a low, dissatisfied grumble in his throat, before finally resignedly putting away the fried pork cutlet and turning his anger towards the next person.
Park Bu-sung didn't dare to resume normal breathing until he had walked seven or eight steps away. His back was already soaked in cold sweat, and his legs were still as weak as noodles.
He turned and gave Wasim a grateful look, to which Wasim returned a reassuring glance.
Having survived Mr. Zhang's harrowing ordeal, all sixteen people finally finished getting their meals. Although the process was thrilling, thankfully no one received any further "special treatment" afterwards.
Next, it's time to choose your seats.
Rule 2: [Please try to choose a window seat when dining. If you find that there is no campus view outside the window after sitting down, please get up and change seats immediately. Do not look back out the window.]
However, when everyone's eyes swept over the row of seats by the window, their hearts sank.
Most of the window seats were already occupied by students eating silently with their heads down, leaving only a four-person seat in the far corner next to the restroom entrance that was still empty.
"Let the girls sit here," Vassim suggested in a low voice.
What appears to be out of concern for the girl is actually his own calculation.
Rule 2 may be a double-edged sword, since there may be situations where "there is no view outside the window," and how to deal with that is still unknown.
No one objected.
Evelyn and her three roommates thanked her quietly, then carefully carried their trays to the corner by the window.
The remaining 8 boys and 4 girls sat separately at three nearby tables.
Lin Feng, Wasim, Park Bu-sung, and Sato Ichiro sat at a table.
After everyone was seated, they looked at the food on their plates. Most of it was rice and boiled vegetables that looked normal. But the one spoonful of sticky, suspiciously colored stew that Chef Zhang had personally scooped out was particularly eye-catching because it had an indescribable smell.
Park Bu-sung disdainfully poked at the clump of stew with his spoon, muttering a complaint:
"Ugh...this thing looks...like that...do we really want to eat it?"
"The rules only say to eat on time, they don't say you have to finish your food, right? Or... should we secretly throw it away?"
Upon hearing this, everyone began to carefully recall the rules, and indeed there was no rule that "you must finish eating".
Lin Feng's gaze swept across the entire cafeteria.
He noticed that a student in the distance, who also seemed to dislike the stew, quickly dumped most of the stew into the trash can when no one was looking.
At the moment it collapsed, the student's lips curved upwards for an extremely brief and barely perceptible moment.
The smile was fleeting, but it sent a chill down Lin Feng's spine!
He immediately recalled the warning the mysterious senior had given him on the phone—"Never laugh!"
Next, he observed that the students who were frowning and forcing themselves to eat the stew, although their faces showed pain and disgust, did not have any other abnormalities, nor did they show that strange "smile".
This subtle contrast was like a lightning bolt that cleaved through the fog in his mind.
A bold hypothesis instantly took shape:
Laughter, perhaps, is itself a form of pollution.
Following this line of thought:
The seemingly "normal" food in the cafeteria may fill your stomach temporarily, but could it be unknowingly exacerbating some kind of invisible "pollution"?
The nauseatingly sticky stew served by Chef Zhang, though difficult to swallow, may have some effect in "neutralizing" the contamination or maintaining a "stable state."
It may not be a punishment, but a bitter antidote, or rather, an inhibitor to maintain rationality and "stability".
Throwing it away will relieve your taste buds, and your mind may even experience a brief sense of pleasure from "getting rid of something unpleasant."
But this could very well be a trap—
You are actively rejecting anything that can combat pollution, and unknowingly sliding into a deeper abyss.