196: The Devil's Tutoring Class

"Infinity..."

Lin Feng stood on a bustling street corner, the word escaping his lips in a near-silent whisper.

That horizontal figure-eight, that twisted Ouroboros symbol, was imprinted clearly in his pupils.

It was no longer that eerie, mystical sketch from the email. It had been redesigned with sleek lines and a modern, academic flair, perfectly integrated into the logo of this "Elite Academy," looking like any other perfectly normal commercial brand.

But it was precisely this excessive normalcy that was the most abnormal!

"Brother Feng? What are you staring at? Infinity... Hey, this cram school's name is actually quite philosophical. Is it trying to say there's no end to learning?" Wang Dalong, completely unaware of the issue, leaned over and muttered while looking at the wooden sign. "But these South American guys are really competitive; they even opened a cram school in an old, run-down district like this."

Lin Feng didn't answer him.

In his mind, all the previously disorganized clues were suddenly drawn together like they were being pulled by a massive magnet, piecing together and restructuring in an instant!

Why a cram school?

Because in a country with deep-rooted Catholic faith, trying to create a brand-new religion out of thin air was too difficult and too conspicuous; it would be wiped out as a cult in minutes.

However, an educational institution—a school operating under the banners of "Elite Education" and "Cultural Heritage"—was the most perfect breeding ground in the world!

They didn't need to go out into the streets to proselytize publicly. They only needed to be in the classrooms, within those seemingly normal history, philosophy, and German lessons, to gradually and subtly instill their twisted, tampered history into the descendants of Nazis—young people who had been carefully screened and whose minds were still blank slates! They would instill the ethereal "glory" of the "Fourth Reich" and the personality cult of The Painter, who had long since turned to bone!

Using ten, twenty, or even more years to cultivate generation after generation of loyal, fanatical new believers who also possessed high academic qualifications and high intelligence!

This was ten thousand times more terrifying than raising a group of brutes in the Sahara Desert who only knew how to hold AKs and shoot!

"Ouroboros... Eternal Recurrence..." The corner of Lin Feng's mouth twitched into a cold shape. "What they want is for the Third Reich to be reborn 'infinitely' on this continent in a brand-new form."

"What's that? Rebirth?" Wang Dalong was stunned. "No, Brother Feng, just based on a logo... you've analyzed their entire school's philosophy, development plan, and future blueprint? That's more miraculous than fortune-telling!"

Lin Feng offered no further explanation.

He withdrew his gaze from the sign and reached up to tug at his baseball cap, the shadow of the brim obscuring the upper half of his face. His tone was as calm as if he were asking what was for dinner tonight.

"Come on, let's go inside and sign up."

"Huh?!"

Wang Dalong's eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets. He grabbed Lin Feng's arm tightly, looking like he was about to jump out of his skin. His voice was pressed low like the buzzing of a mosquito, urgent and fast:

"Sign... sign up?! Brother! My dear brother! Look at me, then look at yourself! The two of us have yellow skin and black hair—purely Oriental faces! Signing up for a German cram school suspected of being run by Neo-Nazis? Are you sure we aren't just delivering our heads on a silver platter? Isn't this equivalent to walking right up to them, pointing at their noses, and saying, 'Hey, punks, we're here to investigate you, come and kill us'?"

"No." Lin Feng's pace didn't falter for a second; instead, it became even firmer against Wang Dalong's tugging. "This is the fastest way."

Rather than playing cat-and-mouse games of testing them from the outside like a headless fly, it was better to walk directly into the center of the storm.

He intended to use this most direct, blunt, and irrational method to disrupt the opponent's rhythm and see how these rats hiding in the shadows would react.

Wang Dalong was practically half-dragged along by Lin Feng, his face wearing a mournful expression. He felt like a pig about to be sent to the slaughterhouse, every step filled with a sense of tragic heroism.

Pushing open the heavy, carved wooden door, a unique scent—a mix of old books and disinfectant—wafted toward them.

The interior of the cram school was brightly lit and decently decorated. The walls were hung with many scenic photos of the University of Buenos Aires and quotes from famous people like Einstein and Nietzsche. It looked no different from any legitimate educational institution.

A white lady wearing a professional suit, with blonde hair, blue eyes, and a meticulously styled bun, noticed them. She stood up from behind the front desk with a professional, flawless smile and asked in fluent Spanish, "Good afternoon, gentlemen. How can I help you?"

Wang Dalong's mind went blank. He was just about to try and manage a few words in his broken Spanish.

However, Lin Feng had already let go of his hand and walked straight forward. In clear, articulate English that even carried a hint of an old-fashioned aristocratic accent, he spoke calmly:

"We are looking for someone."

The smile on the receptionist's face faltered slightly, but she quickly regained her composure and maintained her politeness. "Who are you looking for? Do you have an appointment?"

Lin Feng's gaze passed over her and landed on the large "Infinity" symbol meticulously crafted from brass on the wall behind her. He said clearly, word by word:

"I am looking for the person in charge here."

The air in the lobby suddenly became so quiet that one could hear heartbeats.

The professional smile on the receptionist's face vanished completely, replaced by an undisguised look of scrutiny and vigilance. Her hand moved inconspicuously under the desk, seemingly reaching for a button.

Wang Dalong's heart instantly leaped into his throat! He felt his back completely soaked with cold sweat, and his hand instinctively wanted to reach for the high-voltage stun gun hidden in his shoulder bag.

It’s over, it’s all over now. They couldn't avoid it after all; it was time for a head-on confrontation!

However, at this tense, hair-trigger moment...

*Beep.*

An extremely faint electronic sound came from a seemingly ordinary smartwatch worn on the receptionist's wrist.

She instinctively looked down at it.

With that one look, her entire body shuddered. Then, when she looked up at Lin Feng again, all the previous vigilance and scrutiny had vanished, replaced by a complex mix of shock, confusion, and even... awe!

She suddenly stood straight and actually gave Lin Feng a slight bow, her voice carrying a hint of a tremor that she hadn't even noticed herself.

"Mr. Lin, Mr. Wang, please follow me."

She had actually called out both of their surnames with unerring accuracy!

Wang Dalong was completely dumbfounded, his mouth hanging open, unable to say a single word.

The receptionist didn't say another word, nor did she explain how she knew their identities. She simply turned around, used an access card to press the button for a private elevator nearby, and the elevator doors slid open silently.

She stood to the side of the elevator entrance and made a respectful "please" gesture.

"The Duke... has been waiting for you in the top-floor office for a long time."