The small tower shines with glory, an immense honor, applause!

Canxing White Tower, 5:45 PM.

Yan Xunzhi yawned and staggered out from the hallway.

The overhead lights were already dim and yellowish. He skillfully stepped past the pile of bags at the doorway, reached into the corner to grab his own backpack, and turned on his flashlight.

The beam of light landed on a pale blue-white face, eyes bloodshot with only the whites visible, staring straight at him—

“Ah!”

Yan Xunzhi jumped three feet in the air in fright, dropping his flashlight, which rolled a good distance away.

The pile of backpacks rustled a bit, then came the sound of things scattering everywhere.

Having recovered from the shock, Yan Xunzhi recognized it wasn’t some kind of ghost or corpse and got angry, “Shu Chi!”

“Ah, I was trapped under the bags. Help me lift the ones on top.”

Yan Xunzhi ignored her, angrily picked up the flashlight, grabbed his bag, and headed out.

Shu Chi struggled for a while, then crawled out from the pile of backpacks. Seeing Yan Xunzhi already walking away, she hurried after him and hooked an arm around his neck from behind, “I didn’t mean to scare you. I came in to find my own bag and suddenly heard someone coming…”

“No, no, I don’t want to hear your excuses.” Yan Xunzhi twisted his head to the side, refusing to listen.

Shu Chi leaned closer, pleading and shaking a bit, “Don’t be mad, I didn’t know it was you… Young Master, please don’t be mad.”

Yan Xunzhi twitched his nose, pushed her away, voice muffled, “No, just don’t touch me.”

Shu Chi froze for a moment, then sneaked a glance and immediately admitted, “I was really wrong, terribly wrong! Oh babe… forgive me just this once!”

At the same time, her eight arms wrapped firmly around Yan Xunzhi.

Dragging him along forcibly for some distance, Yan Xunzhi finally couldn’t hold it and burst out laughing, then quickly put on a serious face again, “…why are you like a mangy dog?”

Laughing meant it was all good. Shu Chi still held him tight, swaying a couple of times, “What’s wrong? I’m willing.”

“Fine, fine, if you’re willing, go ahead.”

“Heh, you said the word, how could I not?”

Using the stairs, she quickly let go and got down from Yan Xunzhi’s body.

The day after tomorrow was the second round of assessments, and most students were buried in their work inside the classroom. Few people left at this hour. The corridor walls were covered with sound-absorbing material, making it extremely quiet. The light repeatedly stretched and shortened their shadows.

Eighty-two years underground, after technology was almost completely destroyed in the ruins, humanity finally made breakthroughs in human body function modification.

Eighty-seven years underground, a large quantity of functional modification pills called EVOLVE flooded the market.

By the ninetieth year, EV drugs were officially regulated. All primary and secondary school students had to go to their respective community centers weekly to receive pills, take them under supervision, and have a professional sign off to confirm.

They started taking EV pills upon enrollment, stopped at 16 years old when entering the White Tower, then switched to EV injections after daily lessons, continuing until graduation and differentiation.

There were two types of differentiation: Sentinel, or Guide.

“What do you think you’ll be, a Guide or a Sentinel?” Shu Chi hooked his shoulder and asked.

Yan Xunzhi thought about his recent exam results with a troubled expression, “It should be Sentinel for sure. If I were to become a Guide, my mental ability exam… probably wouldn’t have failed.”

EV adjusted based on the body’s inherent characteristics. Whether someone differentiated into a Sentinel or a Guide was almost predetermined from birth and could be seen from their usual traits.

Due to drug effects, Guides had stronger mental abilities while Sentinels had better physical attributes.

Shu Chi casually teased, “But other than sprinting, you barely passed the other tests. Could it be… that you just performed exceptionally well in those few subjects?”

Yan Xunzhi: …

He really did try hard in class and reviewing! If his talent was lacking, who could he blame?

Shu Chi pointed to the classroom behind them, exaggeratedly swallowing an imaginary egg, “And you call that trying? Look at those top students in class, who at this hour isn’t burning the midnight oil…”

“But it’s already 5:45!” Yan Xunzhi felt dizzy, “Class started at 7 in the morning, we’ve been at it all day…”

The only consolation might be that the failure rate was nearly thirty percent, so even though everyone was studying late, about thirty percent were at his level.

At least that saved his face. It wasn’t that he was bad, the exam questions were just too hard.

Shu Chi glanced sideways, “Studying for a day? You only study ten hours a day? Who’s the one sleeping in class?”

Isn’t that the underground common knowledge class? Boring to death, nothing good to listen to.

Yan Xunzhi silently cursed in his heart, then wisely decided to change the subject to avoid trouble, “I heard a batch of new instructors arrived recently, did you hear about it?”

Shu Chi nodded and pointed to the bulletin board by the distant playground, “The list was posted yesterday, all there.”

Yan Xunzhi was surprised at how quickly she got the news, “You’ve already seen it?”

Shu Chi waved her hand, “No, after school yesterday lots of people crowded around to look. I wondered what it was. There were too many people, I couldn’t get close, so I just left.”

She wasn’t very interested in the introductions anyway—Canxing White Tower was just a mediocre tower in the corner of the underground city. In ten years, you could count the number of Sentinels who made it to headquarters on one hand.

The instructors sent here were mostly of similar average level, swapping around among a few nearby ordinary towers.

Occasionally, A-level special instructors were dispatched from headquarters, supposedly to improve teaching quality, but really just to make an appearance, teach a few outdoor classes, and enjoy an easy life.

But Yan Xunzhi was quite curious, “Then let’s go, take a closer look at which instructors came.”

Or rather, he just wanted to quickly switch to a new topic.

The bulletin board seemed to have just been freshly painted. Its frame and bottom, worn and mottled from half a lifetime, had been repainted with black paint. The edges showed no scratches at all, gleaming with the unique shine of fresh paint. The arrangement of the instructors’ names inside had also been slightly changed.

Yan Xunzhi was used to reading from left to right, but this time his eyes immediately landed on the far right.

It wasn’t because of anything else—it was the enlarged ID photo and the dazzling golden “S” emblem below it that was hard to ignore.

The large, shining golden letters boldly displayed, like a peacock spreading its feathers, what set her apart from the other instructors: S-Rank Special Instructor

Kong Wei

Yan Xunzhi blinked hard, trying several times to tear his gaze away from that magnetic spot.

He turned to look at Shu Chi, who wore the same stunned expression. The two of them looked at each other like looking into a mirror—no reference value at all.

“I… I didn’t see that wrong, right?”

“I saw it too… S-Rank Instructor…”

Not to mention an edge tower like Canxing White Tower, even the central White Tower had only a handful of S-rank instructors, who only occasionally taught frontline classes.

Even the top undifferentiated students were lucky to meet one in the White Tower.

And now Canxing White Tower had one.

Even if she didn’t teach, simply sitting in the office building, she would definitely show up on the playground after the second assessment. Having such a treasure at Canxing White Tower, it was already very low-key not to hang banners and blast announcements day and night within dozens of miles.

Yan Xunzhi and Shu Chi exchanged glances.

No wonder so many people crowded around to look yesterday. If it weren’t for the approaching second assessment and everything else pushed to the back burner, with strict internal control, the special dispatch of an S-rank instructor to Canxing White Tower would already be breaking news.

Combat capability is the primary productivity in wartime. No matter how stubborn or temperamental an S-rank sentinel was, higher-ups would obediently use them.

It was impossible that she had been demoted here; the only possibility was that she had voluntarily transferred.

But… who would be willing to leave the great conditions of the central White Tower and travel thousands of miles to some remote corner like Canxing?

Even for a peaceful life, an ordinary White Tower still offered fairly good treatment, and real combat missions wouldn’t fall to them. Unlike an edge tower like this, where total annihilation was always a possibility—why would someone think so negatively as to come here?

Yan Xunzhi couldn’t help but look again at that name: Kong Wei.

Truly eccentric.

High rank means being willful.

More important than the arrival of an S-rank instructor was the second assessment. Yan Xunzhi enthusiastically chatted with Shu Chi for five minutes, then took out his student card. Instantly, it was like a cold bucket of water poured on him as he sheepishly swiped in and entered the free training room.

No one was in the free training room.

Classrooms had a lights-out time, at 6:30 PM. After that, there was no chance to study. Most students preferred to study written content inside first, then after lights out would come to the free training room which was open 24 hours.

Yan Xunzhi’s move was officially called off-peak travel—fewer people…

In reality, the textbook was like a book of heaven’s secrets. Just looking at the cover made his scalp tingle and his mind scatter. Better to exercise his arms and legs.

Though his limbs weren’t great either, at least he could use them. Any points gained would count.

The passing rate for the second assessment affected the initial rating—that was the only rating confirmed before differentiation.

It was a manual screening process. Twenty percent of students would be eliminated and classified as E-rank.

After the great disaster, humanity lost almost all scientific knowledge. Many instruments became unusable underground due to magnetic interference. Technology rapidly regressed.

In the underground era, gene screening wasn’t the most important item. They even implicitly reserved a portion of defective individuals. After all, someone had to be the bottom layer, forced to contribute themselves; a certain defect rate was necessary for the federation.

Statistically, about twenty percent of embryos each year had defects, which led to the twenty percent elimination rate.

Only a limited set of genes were screened and abandoned during embryo selection, including congenital immune diseases, hereditary diseases, deformities, chromosomal disorders…

More defect genes were undetectable—even S-rank extractions and incubations might carry problems like low intelligence.

About fifteen percent of those eliminated initially had gene problems, such as weak memory, poor comprehension, poor health… and five percent were normal but not motivated or excellent enough.

Once rated E-rank, unless by some miracle one differentiated into S-rank, they would spend their entire life living underground at the bottom tier.

Survival of the fittest started here.

Even if you were born a rabbit, if you ran fast enough, you could survive. But even if you were born a wolf, if you fell to the back of the pack, you would still be eaten.

Though Yan Xunzhi’s grades were poor and attention scattered, compared to those around him, he was neither the worst nor the best. He estimated he was not a rabbit, but a somewhat weak wolf.

Naturally, his mission became: don’t be the unlucky one left behind to be abandoned and devoured.

He didn’t need to push himself too hard, but couldn’t be completely lazy either.

After all, nearly two hundred years underground, gene screening had to iterate, and passing rates were slowly but steadily rising.

The number of rabbits was decreasing, but the elimination rate remained unchanged. Wolves chased each other, growing faster and faster, with higher and higher requirements.

The good news was collective: student quality rose dramatically—from a seventy percent failure rate to thirty percent. In recent years, students differentiating as D-rank were extremely rare.

The bad news was…

Yan Xunzhi swiped his card with tears in his eyes, cooperated with Shu Chi to strap on the exoskeleton assistance device, linked mentally, and stood on the training platform.

Everyone was competing fiercely, rapidly improving. No more easy days. Even salted fish^[1]Lazy or Unambitious Person had to be fried on both sides.

And you had to flip yourself over—burnt on both sides, but not burned through.