Chapter Nine: The Quota

The crowd in the square and the viewers before their televisions erupted in an uproar.

Who exactly was this monster? Not only had he aced those impossibly difficult questions before, but he had also managed to break through this complicated defensive matrix?

“That guy up there, that’s my good buddy—his name is Ji Cheng!” a burly, bearded man shouted proudly from the crowd.

“Ji Cheng! Ji Cheng! Ji Cheng!”

“Ji Bao is so handsome! I want to have his children!” a female examinee cried out immediately.

“I want to have Ji Bao’s children too!” All the female examinees began to chant in unison.

Given the harsh living conditions on Baishan Star, Ji Cheng’s fierce demeanor fit perfectly with popular tastes. The constant threat from mutated beasts and the unending forced conscription meant that, in every city, women vastly outnumbered men.

With women making up eighty percent of the candidates, their excitement filled the entire holographic plaza with their cries.

Su Yi’s nails dug deep into her flesh. The pride and self-respect she’d cultivated since childhood made it impossible for her to admit that Ji Cheng was superior—and by such a wide margin. His back was now something she could only look up to.

“Just like I’m doing now,” she thought, tilting her head back to gaze at Ji Cheng, who was now positioned far above her.

Her brows knitted in frustration. “Especially since this man is so insufferable.”

On the dais—

“How is this possible? How could he break the matrix?” The man in black cast a sidelong glance at the osprey ship docked beside the stage, feeling as if a knife was about to carve out a piece of his heart.

“No, this ship… the boss went through so much trouble to get it; it’ll be invaluable in the mines. What should I do now?” His face flushed with anxiety.

People in the square, and even those watching on TV, noticed the man in black’s discomfort. It was clear that this so-called ability user had never imagined Ji Cheng could break the matrix, and now he couldn’t save face.

“What now? Everyone’s watching, it’s being broadcast live; there’s no way to deny this.” He wanted nothing more than to go back ten minutes and strangle his past self.

[Question twenty: Which type of exploration grid should be used in the depicted scenario?]

At that moment, the main control computer automatically read out the final question. The holographic projector quickly conjured an image of a mining zone in the middle of a wasteland, where dozens of surveyors were busy setting up exploration grids.

“Differential lock cross grid,” Su Yi immediately had the answer in her mind. But her score was already more than enough for a full-fledged mining license. After so many emotional swings, she no longer had the heart to answer the questions and couldn’t help but glance at Ji Cheng.

For him, such a question must be child’s play.

“Hm?” Su Yi’s expression suddenly turned to shock. “What is he doing?”

Ji Cheng sat in his seat, brows tightly furrowed, hands trembling, showing no intention of answering.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to answer, but—

“My heart’s racing, and both my hands are numb. What’s happening to me?” Ji Cheng realized that even moving his fingers had become extremely difficult.

“Could it be…”

He recalled how, in a fit of anger at Luo Rao that morning, he’d taken a handful of unknown heart pills from somewhere.

“…Don’t tell me I’ve been poisoned by those pills?”

As the thought flashed through his mind, a deep sense of weakness swept over him.

Sweat beaded on his forehead, and his vision began to blur.

“Don’t faint, don’t faint—hang in there, Ji Cheng, my spaceship!”

His chest felt tighter and tighter; his heart thundered in his ears as if it might leap out of his chest.

“Damn it, I’m never taking random pills again…”

Everything went black. Ji Cheng passed out.

“I think he just fainted,” a blond examinee pointed at the floating image.

“Idiot, he’s obviously faking! Didn’t you see that ability user couldn’t save face? Look at how handsome Ji Bao is, even when he’s fainting!” his girlfriend said, gazing at Ji Cheng with stars in her eyes.

“Whose girlfriend are you, anyway?” the blond asked, crestfallen.

“Yours, of course. How could I be worthy of Ji Bao? He belongs to all the fans,” she said meaningfully.

“Is fan culture really that terrifying?” the blond muttered, dumbfounded.

—The answering period is about to end. Examinees, please submit your answers.

—Ten, nine, eight, seven…

—Three, two, one!

—Time’s up.

Ji Cheng still slumped to the side, eyes tightly shut, motionless.

“Brilliant, simply brilliant.”

“He pretended to faint to let the ability user save face.”

“Ji Bao is too damn cool!”

The man in black let out a sigh of relief, looking at Ji Cheng with newfound appreciation. “That almost went south. Lucky this kid covered for me. He’s a real brother.”

“No, I need to report to the boss. Someone’s broken the defensive matrix at Site Thirteen!” The thought jolted him. That “fainting” buddy had just done something terrifying.

…

Emerald District, a private villa on Lake Heart.

In front of the television, an elderly man with graying hair and a single eye clapped his hands in admiration. “Marvelous. He knows when to advance or retreat and sees the bigger picture. This young man’s future is limitless.”

“Grandpa, you seldom praise anyone like this.”

“Heh, this lad is far more interesting than your old man. Just wait and see.”

New Southport City Center, an underground safe house.

“Steelback” Wei Lin took a long swig of liquor and cursed, exasperated, “That brat Lu Shangbai—just to show off, he dared to use the boss’s osprey ship as a prize.”

“Exactly, pure nonsense. If that kid hadn’t been so tactful and given him an out, things would’ve ended badly. But that broken matrix of his did look familiar.”

…

Southport New City Public Hospital, Gray Zone.

A female doctor in a white coat removed her stethoscope, half exasperated, half amused. “Mr. Ji, you can’t just take handfuls of heart pills. If you didn’t have an extraordinary constitution, you’d be dead by now.”

“I wasn’t thinking straight at the time,” Ji Cheng admitted ruefully. “It was like my brain short-circuited.”

Could it be because of that so-called Worldline Correction Program? The thought flashed through his mind.

That’s too far-fetched, he told himself, shaking his head.

“Well, since you’ve regained consciousness, you’re in the clear. Stay under observation for another hour, and then you can go home.” The young doctor couldn’t help glancing at Ji Cheng again, her ears reddening as she left.

“Sigh, fainted at the last moment—lost my chance at the ship. At least my score is high enough for a provisional mining license,” Ji Cheng consoled himself. But now he’d have to find another way to earn some money—first, get himself some gear; and besides, his family was nearly out of food.

“That doctor seemed pretty cute—and she looks interested in you. Want to try your luck?” Luo Rao crawled out from under Ji Cheng’s bed.

Ji Cheng jumped. “When did you get here? Hiding under the bed—trying to scare me to death?”

Luo Rao handed him a bottle of water. “I’m a little scared of hospitals—being under the bed feels safer.”

“You’re almost twenty and still afraid of hospitals.” Ji Cheng took the water, drank a little, and felt a bit better. He sat up. “Let’s go home. I feel fine now.”

…

Fifth basement level, Parliament Building.

A tree—more precisely, a willow—stood in the very center of the room, bringing a touch of vitality to the entire space.

The floor was thickly carpeted, the air fragrant with fresh tea. Two men sat cross-legged, sipping tea and conversing.

“So, who do you want to recommend?”

“Ji Cheng,” Xu Mingxiong replied with clear enunciation, his expression solemn.

Zhou Ze clearly hadn’t heard the name before. He glanced at Xu Mingxiong in surprise, not expecting this seasoned ability user to introduce an ordinary person with such gravity.

In his eyes, anyone without powers was just an ordinary person.

“He’s a promising talent.”

Zhou Ze took a small sip of tea, gazing into his cup as he chatted casually. “How so?”

“Eighteen years old. Genetic prototype assimilation: eighty-nine percent,” Xu Mingxiong continued.

“Interesting. That’s two years younger than Councilor Yao’s genius ability user,” Zhou Ze remarked.

“Councilor Yao’s genius didn’t have such a high assimilation rate at eighteen,” Xu continued. “I think we should give him a spot.”

Knock, knock, knock.

At that moment, there was a knock at the door.

“Come in, Shangbai,” Zhou Ze called, clearly knowing who it was.

“Boss.” The newcomer, dressed in black and in high spirits, greeted him. “Old Xu, you’re here too.”

Xu Mingxiong said formally, “I’m here to discuss something with Councilor Zhou.”

“No need to be so uptight, Old Xu. The boss is easygoing.” Lu Shangbai shook out his coat. “I was bored today, so I went to supervise the mining exam.”

“I heard it was broadcast live,” Zhou Ze said with a friendly chuckle. “You really love the spotlight.”

Lu Shangbai went to the corner, grabbed a paper cup, and filled it with water. “Heh, you know me best, boss. But I actually accomplished something today. I want to recommend someone.”

“What a coincidence,” Zhou Ze teased, “your achievement might be for nothing. Old Xu is here to recommend someone too.”

Lu Shangbai sat down beside them, cup in hand. “Doesn’t Councilor Huang’s team have a spot?”

“Don’t mention it,” Xu Mingxiong relaxed a little. “Our team leader has an old friend who just moved over from the Old City. He mentioned some kid in the family who’s especially gifted at mechanical engineering—even demonstrated a mechanical spine. Our team leader insisted on reserving the spot for him, claiming he’ll be Southport’s future top mechanical expert. The man hasn’t even met the kid! How ridiculous is that?”

“Old Xu, that’s not fair. Don’t you do the same? Why come asking us for a spot when you could work it out within your own team?”

Xu Mingxiong glared, eyes wide. “What do you mean ‘asking’? We’re all working for Southport here. Your team hadn’t confirmed a candidate, so what’s wrong with me trying?”

“Not going to argue,” Lu Shangbai turned to Zhou Ze. “Boss, listen, I really found a genius this time. Don’t give the spot away.”

Zhou Ze pushed his cup of tea to Lu Shangbai. “Let’s hear it.”

Without any pretense, Lu Shangbai drained the cup in one go and said confidently, “This kid is something else. I just wanted to throw some hard questions at him for fun, but he answered everything. I was a bit embarrassed, so I added the matrix we encountered at Site Thirteen. Guess what? He solved it perfectly!”

“You mean, the Site Thirteen matrix—he broke it?” The smile vanished from Zhou Ze’s face, replaced by an overwhelming aura as he stared hard at Lu Shangbai.

“Yes, boss.”

“Heaven favors Southport, truly! What’s his name?” Zhou Ze slapped the table and stood, unable to hide his excitement.

Lu Shangbai replied quickly, “His name is Ji Cheng.”

“Who?” Xu Mingxiong interjected in astonishment.

“Ji Cheng.”

Zhou Ze and Xu Mingxiong looked at each other in amazement.

“Hahahahahaha!” Zhou Ze burst out laughing, unable to catch his breath. “What are you two arguing about, then?”

Xu Mingxiong laughed too. “Right, what were we arguing for?”

Lu Shangbai watched them, bewildered. “What’s so funny?” Then, worried, he added, “Don’t give the spot away.”

“The genius Old Xu recommended, eighteen years old, eighty-nine percent assimilation—he’s also named Ji Cheng. What do you think we’re laughing at?” Zhou Ze winked at him.

“Eighteen, eighty-nine percent assimilation?” Lu Shangbai gasped. “What kind of monster is that?”

Xu Mingxiong laughed heartily at Lu Shangbai’s shocked face, but after a few laughs, he suddenly fell silent.

That’s right—what kind of monster is this? Not only could he break the defense matrix at Site Thirteen, but he’d also reached eighty-nine percent assimilation at his age. How is that possible? Could it be two people with the same name?

Zhou Ze seemed to realize this as well, his face stiffening.

The three stared at each other in disbelief.

“Let’s go—check with Security and see if it’s the same person.”