Translator: AkazaTL
Proofreader/Editor: JWyck
***
Chapter 144
“Me?” Su Bei laughed casually. “I’d just surrender!”
“Tch!” Ai Baozhu, eavesdropping, scoffed. “That’s such a cop-out answer!”
No one needed to think twice to know he was joking. Nobody believed Su Bei would surrender. S Class didn’t have quitters.
To Ai Baozhu’s complaint, Su Bei just raised a brow and smiled, not responding further. If not that answer, what could he say? The truth?
The truth was, if the Class B student’s ability could copy all his powers, he’d adjust her main pointer to instant death the moment they faced off.
Though it’d drain his Mental Energy heavily, it was worth it to eliminate future threats.
But this was school—deliberate killing would land him in jail. So Su Bei wasn’t lying. If he couldn’t confirm whether her ability copied everything, he’d surrender before the arena.
As they chatted, Zhou Renjie emerged, and Mo Xiaotian was called in. Zhou Renjie won, no surprise, but he showed no joy, heading straight for Jiang Tianming: “What did you do in there to need a confidentiality agreement?”
He was panicking. Between Jiang Tianming and Mo Xiaotian, Zhou Renjie privately thought Jiang Tianming was weaker. Mo Xiaotian was always Class A, while Jiang Tianming rose from F Class. Crucially, his ability had little edge against Mo Xiaotian but a decent chance against Jiang Tianming.
So Zhou Renjie assumed he’d vie for the reserve slot against Jiang Tianming, focusing on him.
Until he heard “confidentiality agreement” from the teacher, he freaked out. What required such secrecy? Only if Jiang Tianming hid a powerful, useful ability—enough to secure a slot—would the teacher mandate agreements.
How could Zhou Renjie handle this? He thought he was fighting for second or third, but Jiang Tianming had secretly clinched first?
“You said it’s confidential—I can’t spill,” Jiang Tianming shrugged, knowing Zhou Renjie’s worry and teasing: “No worries, there’s still one slot, right?”
True, but against Mo Xiaotian, Zhou Renjie saw no chance. His ability had no advantage—Mo Xiaotian’s countered it.
Like Wu Mingbai could fill Zhou Renjie’s stomach with earth, Mo Xiaotian could do it with [Air]. Even if Zhou Renjie’s capacity had grown, air could easily overwhelm it.
If Mo Xiaotian held on, he’d win.
Seeing Jiang Tianming wouldn’t share, Zhou Renjie sat aside, fuming, plotting. Though he loathed to admit it, Jiang Tianming had a major trump card, or else why the agreement?
If he had such a secret, Zhou Renjie might not win. Even if he did, the academy might not drop Jiang Tianming. Meng Huai had said the exam ranked by scores, but slots considered overall performance.
Jiang Tianming’s agreement aimed to hide his ability for the three-school competition, signaling high teacher evaluation. Zhou Renjie could only target the known Mo Xiaotian.
But with ability counters, how?
“Mo Xiaotian’s out!” Qi Huang, sharp-eyed, spotted him first, noting his expression: “Time to eat!”
After a morning of tests, she was starving. If not for class camaraderie, she’d have hit the cafeteria already.
“Yay! Food!” Mo Xiaotian bounded to the group, looking around. “Why’s no one asking my results?”
Hard to say—they had no urge to ask. His demeanor screamed the outcome. Wu Mingbai pressed his head down: “You won, right?”
Mo Xiaotian grinned: “You got it!”
“Only an idiot wouldn’t,” Wu Mingbai rolled his eyes.
Mu Tieren gave face, praising: “Impressive. Your ability shining in control track’s no small feat.”
Unlike dedicated control-types, Mo Xiaotian was a latecomer, yet he excelled.
“Let’s walk and talk—you not hungry yet?” Qi Huang grumbled, pulling the girls forward. It was 12:30, and everyone’s stomachs growled. They chatted, heading to the cafeteria.
Few noticed Zhou Renjie pause, eyes dark, brewing something. He quickly masked it, catching up.
But Su Bei saw.
He’d been watching since Zhou Renjie confronted Jiang Tianming. He’d pondered the control and attack track conflicts, predicting plot points.
Unlike attack track’s skill-based clashes, control track, with the protagonist, was complex.
Mo Xiaotian, sent to control track by his “Black Flash” boss grandpa; Zhou Renjie, under family pressure for a slot; Jiang Tianming, the sure-pick protagonist.
Su Bei didn’t need to think hard—Zhou Renjie was the likely loser. His backstory paled against the others’, and his plot weight and strength were weaker.
But Zhou Renjie wasn’t one to graciously bless winners. He was the least protagonist-like “half-villain” in their group.
“Half-villain” because, despite his sharp tongue, he hadn’t done real harm beyond words.
His hidden triggers—family, personality, and the unresolved maze Different Space incident after splitting up—were many. Su Bei’s manga experience told him Zhou Renjie needed a push to go full villain. That push was near.
Should he intervene? No. He couldn’t alter key plot points, and it didn’t concern him.
If Zhou Renjie turned, he’d target Jiang Tianming or Si Zhaohua, not Su Bei.
Plus, Zhou Renjie might not go full villain. As part of the protagonist group, he could stray but be pulled back, a common arc adding depth to his character and spotlighting his savior, maybe resolving his family issues.
At the cafeteria, Zhou Renjie excused himself to the bathroom. Su Bei’s trouble radar pinged—he was up to something.
Likely, feeling outmatched by S Class rivals, he’d either boost himself or sabotage them.
Short-term self-boosting was impossible unless he used banned stimulants, easily detected.
So, sabotaging others—like causing a stomachache to miss the exam—a classic manga tactic.
Likely due to the exam day, the cafeteria’s food was exceptional. Besides usual fare, the Point System Cafeteria offered edible High-Level Nightmare Beast meat.
Most High-Level Nightmare Beasts, being humanoid, were inedible. Few were, highly valuable, with long-term consumption extending ordinary lifespans.
For Ability Users, it boosted physique and Mental Energy, with a cap they hadn’t reached.
Even Si Zhaohua and Feng Lan rarely ate it. Seeing it at school, everyone spent 1,000 points for a portion—pricey, with a one-per-person limit.
A sign detailed it: Nightmare Dragon meat, from the dragon’s heart scales, barely needing cooking to be delicious.
Translucent, pale yellow, jelly-like, it melted in the mouth, fragrant and delectable, tongue-bitingly good.
Su Bei’s hardware store dream wavered. Savoring the lingering taste, a restaurant seemed viable—self-sustaining, right?
But his cooking skills nixed that idea.
After Nightmare Dragon meat, regular food tasted bland. Its energy and calories sufficed, needing no more.
When Zhou Renjie returned, everyone looked full, ready to leave.
“You ate that fast?” He was stunned. “I was gone ten minutes, tops!”
Si Zhaohua pointed to the special counter: “We got that—one portion filled us.”
Zhou Renjie spotted the dragon meat counter, eyes lighting up—rare stuff.
But he frowned, stood dazed, then listlessly bought a portion.
“What’s wrong?” Si Zhaohua asked, noticing.
Zhou Renjie shook his head, then stammered: “Uh, I… I’m treating everyone. Yeah, treating. If you’re not hungry, drinks are fine.”
“Why treat?” Wu Mingbai asked suspiciously. Good deeds from Zhou Renjie felt fishy. Oddly, despite his wealth and generosity, he seemed petty, never treating Jiang Tianming’s group.
Guilty but prideful, Zhou Renjie’s unease turned to anger under Wu Mingbai’s probe: “What’s that mean? Can’t I treat? If not for…”
He stopped, eyes flickering, improvising: “If not for my dad telling me to, you think I’d want to?”
Good excuse, his anger convincing. No one suspected foul play—classmates harming each other was unthinkable.
Su Bei’s phone pinged—a message from Wu Jin: “Zhou Renjie’s lying.”
His emotion-sensing ability caught Zhou Renjie’s mood.
Su Bei almost replied “ignore it” but paused. Wu Jin’s sense might be the author’s hint for Jiang Tianming and Mo Xiaotian. Intervening could let them fall for Zhou Renjie’s trick.
He replied: “Do as you feel.”
Seeing this, Wu Jin looked puzzled but said nothing. Like others, he didn’t suspect Zhou Renjie’s treat was malicious, just an embarrassing motive.
Zhou Renjie ate quickly, barely savoring, gave a speech, and rushed to buy drinks. Ai Baozhu laughed: “His dad’s orders must’ve been serious.”
Si Zhaohua wondered: “Where’s he buying drinks? The shop’s right here.”
“Maybe outside?” Ai Baozhu guessed, turning to Qi Huang and the girls. “There’s a new milk tea shop by the gate. I haven’t tried it—wanna go after school?”
The girls agreed, chatting about new shops, waiting for Zhou Renjie. Others waited too, hoping to nap post-drinks.
Zhou Renjie returned, walking but sweating, suggesting haste.
Carrying a bag of milk teas, he placed them on the podium, distributing one per person, all the same flavor to avoid swaps.
Handing Mo Xiaotian’s, Mo Xiaotian compared volumes. Not to stir trouble—just bored.
“Hey! Mine’s the fullest!” he exclaimed. “It’s got a bit more!”
Machine-filled, others’ were near-identical, his slightly more.
He was joking, but Zhou Renjie panicked: “How’s it more? They’re the same!”
Mo Xiaotian got serious, aligning his with Mu Tieren’s, showing Zhou Renjie: “Look! Mine’s a tad more!”
Realizing his overreaction, Zhou Renjie nodded hastily: “Yeah, it’s more. Drink it.”
Satisfied, Mo Xiaotian took both back. Then, shockingly, he gave the fuller one to Mu Tieren!
“What’re you doing?” Zhou Renjie freaked, stopping him. “That’s yours!”
Mo Xiaotian checked, confirming: “True, but what’s the difference? They’re the same. Neither has a straw yet.”
Zhou Renjie choked, scrambling: “Since you got the fuller one, it’s fated for you. How can you swap it?”
His words convinced Mo Xiaotian but puzzled others.
Why insist Mo Xiaotian keep that cup? Coaxing him like that? It felt… like the queen tricking Snow White with an apple.
Somehow, Jiang Tianming had that thought.
“You… okay?” Ai Baozhu frowned, her face like she’d bitten a sour lemon. “Were you possessed?”
Si Zhaohua looked speechless, letting Ai Baozhu’s jab stand.
Zhou Renjie’s face flushed: “No, I just… have a bit of OCD. I don’t like my arrangements messed up.”
His strained excuse didn’t convince them. They weren’t new to him. Ai Baozhu crossed her arms: “You? OCD? Don’t I know you?”
Zhou Renjie wasn’t sloppy but definitely not OCD. His background and mindset as a subordinate meant he couldn’t afford quirks that annoyed others, especially Si Zhaohua and Ai Baozhu, or his family status would plummet. Speechless, Zhou Renjie eyed the milk tea, snatching it from Mo Xiaotian: “I… I just think it’s annoying you don’t value the fuller one. If you don’t, don’t drink it!”
Seemingly furious but panicked, he left with the milk tea.
“What happened?” Mo Xiaotian was baffled.
Ai Baozhu was too: “Did I hit his fragile ego? Why’d he leave after saying that weird stuff?”
Others were clueless. Zhou Renjie was often harsh, but not this odd. It was a small matter—no one spoke harshly.
From offering drinks, his actions were strange, but no one knew why, standing there confused.
Su Bei thought Zhou Renjie’s exit was smart. Not out of guilt—he’d planned the milk tea sabotage and was committed.
He left because continuing risked exposure. His slip was too obvious—fine now, but if something happened, they’d notice.
He’d lose his slot and shame his family. Better to ditch the evidence now, even if called weird, than face ruin.
But would he give up? Su Bei stared at Zhou Renjie’s retreating figure, then looked away: “I’m heading back.”
“I’m with you!” Wu Jin said loudly, rare for him, hurrying after Su Bei.
Seeing they had something to discuss, others stayed, chatting.
“Was ‘do as you feel’ about this?” Outside, on empty ground, Wu Jin asked. “Zhou Renjie’s milk tea issue.”
He’d caught on—knowing Zhou Renjie’s lie and odd behavior, the truth wasn’t hard.
Su Bei didn’t hide: “Looks like you didn’t need to act.”
Wu Jin lowered his head, voice soft but clear: “But Zhou Renjie doesn’t seem done.”