The news of the Aberration Beast leader’s defeat spread swiftly to the Canglong, and the students from Third High, temporarily housed aboard the ship, erupted in cheers. Those who had participated in the battle swelled with pride—they had taken part in a battle of such scale, taking their first step as true warriors. Nothing was more thrilling than the news of a flawless victory.
Inside the Yaoguang‘s hull, the atmosphere was a seamless blend of high technology and rugged industrial design. Soft, bright light emanated from hidden LED strips, casting a warm glow that made the space feel both advanced and serene.
At the center of the command room stood a massive circular control console, covered in touchscreens and various operational buttons. Data and images scrolled across the displays, monitoring the carrier’s systems in real time. The console’s edges were seamlessly connected, its streamlined design both aesthetically pleasing and ergonomic.
The walls were adorned with elegant metallic finishes, interspersed with transparent observation windows offering glimpses of the churning clouds outside. Every detail, from the seamless flooring to the neatly arranged ventilation ducts on the ceiling, showcased meticulous craftsmanship and industrial beauty.
The Third High students had been assigned to the Yaoguang‘s rest area. While most rejoiced at the news, some felt nothing but awkwardness—like He Zhixin, who had contributed nothing to the battle. Watching his classmates cheer, a belated sense of shame crept over him. Being here made him unbearably uncomfortable, as if he’d rather grab a parachute and jump right out.
Someone even sneered, “You didn’t do shit against that mountain-sized monster. What’re you cheering for?”
The speaker was Peng Chuan, the school’s resident delinquent. He had once ruled the school with his gang of troublemakers, and rumors swirled about his supposed connections—though no one knew if they were true. After awakening a C-rank combat talent, he’d grown even more arrogant, bullying weaker students in private. But today, when it came time to fight for real, he had chickened out.
Zhao Cheng’s disdain deepened. He’d always despised this guy. Back when they’d fought before, Zhao Cheng had refused to back down even when outmatched—and ended up in the hospital, thanks to Xue Ji. Now, with a chance to mock this clown, he wasn’t about to let it slide.
“Oh, Peng Chuan, you weren’t so tough when you were hiding in the safety zone earlier,” Zhao Cheng taunted.
Once he started, others quickly joined in.
“Yeah, you screamed the loudest when those small Aberration Beasts got inside.”
“Who was it that hid in the very center of the protection circle? Scared shitless, and now you’re running your mouth?”
Peng Chuan had never been mocked like this before. His eyes burned with fury as he glared at Zhao Cheng. “You little shit, I should’ve broken your legs last time!”
Zhao Cheng, hot-blooded and impulsive, ignored the pain in his injured hand and lunged forward, shrugging off the people trying to hold him back.
Seeing Zhao Cheng closing in, Peng Chuan suddenly wrenched himself free from those restraining him and charged. His right hand curled into a claw, aiming straight for Zhao Cheng’s bandaged arm.
This was Peng Chuan’s usual dirty fighting style—always going for the most vulnerable spots to ensure his opponents bled. It was how he bullied kids who’d never been in a real fight. In a straight-up brawl, most wouldn’t have been intimidated by his scrawny, sleep-deprived, chain-smoking ass.
Zhao Cheng, fueled by rage, also broke free and delivered a solid kick, sending Peng Chuan sprawling.
In the command room, an operator monitoring the cameras reported the scuffle in the rest area to Commander Li, who was clad in military attire. The commander’s response was tinged with disappointment.
“Don’t bother me with kids’ petty squabbles,” he rumbled in his deep voice. “Just send someone to keep an eye on them. I’m busy.”
No sooner had he spoken than another call came in. Without hesitation, Commander Li hung up.
The operator sighed and turned to his recently relieved comrade. “Lao Feng, those students are at each other’s throats. Go keep an eye on them—make sure nothing serious happens.”
…
Zhao Cheng’s kick had been flawless—smooth, precise, and perfectly executed. Peng Chuan lay flat on his back, stunned. Surrounded by classmates he’d always looked down on, his humiliation burned. In his fury, he forgot to even get up, just lying there, glaring and panting through gritted teeth.
Zhao Cheng couldn’t help but grin. “Need a hand getting up?” he asked mockingly.
Peng Chuan, who had never been humiliated like this, suddenly sprang up with a kip-up and lunged for Zhao Cheng’s injured arm. Just as Zhao Cheng braced to counter, someone yanked him back, putting distance between them.
Shen Dai had been watching the spectacle and decided it was time to intervene. Stepping between them, she adopted her usual class-leader tone. “Alright, that’s enough. You’re classmates—no more fighting.”
Peng Chuan wasn’t having it. Oh, now you step in when I’m about to hit back? He ignored school decorum and swung a fist straight at Shen Dai’s face.
“You bitch, quit pretending!”
At that moment, Feng Ziming—the soldier sent to mediate—arrived, catching Peng Chuan’s fist mid-swing. A gust of wind seemed to blow through as the tall, muscular man materialized in the center of the crowd.
Feng Ziming didn’t budge an inch, no matter how hard Peng Chuan struggled. Only when the boy tired himself out and calmed down did he finally release him.
“Students,” Feng Ziming said sternly, “awakening abilities can make you more aggressive. But you must learn restraint. Most importantly—do not bully the weak. A strong person’s blood should be shed for those who need protection!”
The words echoed in Zhao Cheng’s mind. Awakening wasn’t for selfish desires or petty fights—it was to protect others. He looked down at his bandaged hand, then at Shen Dai standing in front of him, and something clicked.
Peng Chuan, realizing he was outmatched, immediately backed down, nodding obsequiously—a stark contrast to his earlier bravado.
Just then, a certain white-haired girl was weaving through the crowd, trying to slip by unnoticed.
Zhao Cheng spotted her first. “Class Prez, is that… Xue Ji?”
“No way,” Shen Dai said without turning. “We sent her back, remember?” Only after Zhao Cheng shook her shoulder repeatedly did she glance over. *White hair—40% chance. 160 cm tall—60%. B-cup—80%. Hiding from people like a socially awkward gremlin—100%!*
Overjoyed, Shen Dai blurted, “Xue Ji! What are you doing here?”
She completely missed Xue Ji’s frantic head-shaking and repeated hand gestures—only seeing the resigned look on her face after being caught. Oblivious, Shen Dai beamed even brighter, thinking only of how adorable Xue Ji was.