High School of Demon Hunting-Chapter 1518 - 262 Choice (Part 1)

Am I more like a demon than her?

What kind of joke is this!

Zheng Qing gritted his teeth, a bit exasperated yet amused: "What do you mean by that?"

"You don’t know?" Nikita blinked, a hint of realization flickering in her crimson eyes. "No wonder... Take a look yourself." fгee𝑤ebɳoveɭ.cøm

With that, she flipped her hand and summoned a bright water mirror before the young wizard.

The surface of the water mirror remained perfectly steady amidst the malicious gazes surrounding them.

Then Zheng Qing saw in the mirror—a pair of red eyes, no less striking than those of the female demon. In fact, compared to Nikita, he felt his own eyes appeared deeper, more luminous, and even more pristine.

He stared blankly at those eyes in the mirror, seemingly dazed for a moment.

Meanwhile, Nikita raised her hand, her wrist still wrapped with the warlock’s tail. Tilting her head up, she gazed at her hand, spread her fingers, then slowly clenched them, forming a small, white-jade-like fist.

"So, what do you think?" The female demon spoke again, her voice soft, asking, "Now, are you interested in joining my side?"

"And eat wizards with you?" Zheng Qing snapped out of his daze, sneering coldly at Nikita and rejecting her without hesitation: "Sorry, the idea makes me a bit nauseous."

While speaking, despite appearing utterly compliant outwardly, Zheng Qing was fiercely envisioning his charm gun in his mind—from the stock to the barrel, from the runes carved into its body to the alchemical array etched onto its trigger. Just a little more, and the barrel would emerge from his forehead.

The warlock’s gaze burned intensely as he locked onto the female demon, contemplating where to aim his first shot.

Her left eye or her right eye?

Or perhaps that pretty little mouth of hers?

Nikita seemed unbothered by Zheng Qing’s offensively direct gaze. She kept her head tilted, continuing to admire her fist bathed in sunlight, patiently saying her piece.

"Nausea won’t last forever. With enough willpower and determination, one day you’ll be able to eat a wizard from head to toe." She spoke again, trying to persuade him, though to Zheng Qing, her words carried an unexpected trace of absurdity.

The use of words like ’willpower’ and ’determination’ had always been reserved for righteous contexts.

But today, the female demon used them to describe the act of ’cannibalism,’ lending an ironic yet strangely fitting contradiction.

"Long ago, when I had just been transformed, I was just like you—couldn’t stomach wizards." Nikita squinted her eyes, gazing at her fist under the sun, observing the faintly cyan blood vessels beneath her translucent skin. With a nostalgic tone, she said:

"...Back then, I survived only by feeding on pungent insects. But later, when I realized I’d been completely abandoned by wizards and desperately wanted to live, I finally made up my mind... Perhaps you’re just lacking that moment of clarity."

Zheng Qing fixed his gaze firmly on the female demon, mentally engraving the final rune onto his charm gun, while his fingers discreetly reached for a talisman paper tucked in his belt, clutching it tight.

Then, he curled his lips slightly: "Sorry... I’m not like you."

The pale blue barrel slowly emerged from his forehead.

He illuminated the first array on the charm gun in the recesses of his consciousness.

"Ah, what a pity," the female demon suddenly lowered her head, an expression of regret flickering in her eyes. "I genuinely thought you had potential."

"Bang!"

The small fist she’d been holding aloft struck down like lightning, mercilessly smashing into Zheng Qing’s abdomen.

The young wizard curled like a cooked shrimp, his entire body crumpling to the extreme, his head and legs almost touching.

A guttural sound escaped his throat, his eyes widened so intensely they seemed on the verge of splitting his sockets. His mouth hung open as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t utter a single word.

This punch nearly made him vomit bile.

Even worse, it completely shattered his resistance plan. The charm gun, painstakingly envisioned and about to emerge, scattered into starlight within his mind under the blow.

"Boom!"

A burning peach blossom bloomed on the warlock. The fiery red petals unfurled forcefully, obstructing the female demon’s next move, while the inner golden-red petals rapidly closed in, enveloping the young wizard layer by layer.

It was a talisman Zheng Qing had prepared earlier, designed for a quick escape after ambushing the female demon. Though the plan didn’t quite unfold as imagined, the spell ultimately fulfilled its intended purpose.

Nikita’s lips curved slightly, and a trace of appreciation flickered in her crimson eyes: "Peach and tender? Not bad reaction speed."

The burning peach blossom flashed and disappeared.

The female demon’s figure vanished simultaneously.

The surrounding ancient leather giants, cold spiders, and ghouls froze in place, staring dumbfounded at the empty space before them, entirely oblivious to the peach blossoms flickering and burning some dozens of meters away.

But a talisman’s effect has its limits—despite embedding four layers of ’Peach and tender’ into the talisman paper, Zheng Qing only managed to distance himself a few hundred meters from the monsters.

In the hunting ground, such instantaneous retreats were highly effective against enemies.

But under the watchful eye of a top-tier registered wizard, such tactics were little more than amateurish tricks. Nikita’s figure danced gracefully along with the flickering, burning peach blossoms, the distance between them remaining virtually unchanged.

When the final peach blossom burned out, its petals fell to the ground.

The female demon’s fist once again landed on Zheng Qing’s abdomen.

"Bang!"

The warlock, still airborne, was sent crashing heavily into a mushroom patch, denting the soft grass and creating a massive pit. Plump mushroom caps burst under the impact, turning into a mushy sludge. The air became thick with the stench of broken fungal threads.

The female demon’s figure descended slowly, refraining from further strikes, allowing Zheng Qing to clutch his stomach, kneel on the ground, vomit repeatedly, and convulse.

She cautiously stepped back.

A moment ago, she had been keen to press her advantage and end the young wizard’s life with another punch.

A moment later, standing before Zheng Qing, she suddenly felt a chilling unease—like the first time she had confronted the Mist Captain, or more recently in that little tavern when facing the incoming Blood Symbol Bullet.

She could clearly tell that the warlock was still disoriented after her two punches.

Yet at the same time, her demonic instincts screamed warnings at her, urging her to distance herself from this man as much as possible—immediately, at once!

Zheng Qing was oblivious to the conflict and unease brewing in the female demon’s heart.

He also didn’t have the energy to care.

Because he felt as if he were about to die.