“Treasure Boy?”
The intelligent voice system enthusiastically broadcasted the title with striking cheer. After a brief moment of silence, the audience erupted into heated discussion.
“That title… could it be referring to that little tag-along?”
“Sounds kind of weird, doesn’t it?”
“Doesn’t really match him at all. The title doesn’t seem to reflect any particular strength.”
“‘Treasure’ sounds precious, sure, but compared to something like ‘Swordsman,’ it just feels too vague.”
More than a thousand eyes still waiting in line were now fixated on the tunnel. Up until now, everyone had seen Su Cha as an easy target. Although friendly fire was prohibited in simulated battles, a bit of interference wasn’t considered a rule violation.
But now things had shifted—maybe Su Cha possessed some kind of hidden ability.
The commentators, sensing a moment to grab attention, quickly zoomed in on this new point of interest: “Something unexpected has occurred! As we all know, titles are generated based on a contestant’s personal strengths. What deeper meaning could lie behind ‘Treasure Boy’? We’ll definitely be keeping a close eye on this one!”
The voice echoed throughout the arena.
Su Cha took a deep breath. Please… stop saying those words.
“Now entering—‘Scissorhands’…”
Su Cha froze and looked back. “Who’s Scissorhands?”
Rong Shao’s face was dark: “That’s me.”
He was something of a mechanical genius. Unfortunately, there weren’t many title options that referenced his field, and all the good ones had long been taken.
The tunnel only went forward. It looked straight but was actually sloping upward. Eventually, multiple branching paths appeared. Su Cha’s wristwatch buzzed with a prompt: Turn left. Pod 108.
He found his assigned pod. As soon as he stepped inside, the hive-like door closed behind him. The humidity increased, and the bio-pod began to slowly rise.
The pod was semi-transparent. As Su Cha laid down, blue light beams shot out around him like countless thin threads, rapidly initiating neural connections. The intense light forced him to close his eyes. Not long after, a pleasant voice spoke:
“Welcome to the holographic combat simulation.”
Su Cha’s consciousness was gradually being drawn into another world.
“Friendly reminder: in the event of a life-threatening crisis, please exit immediately. The simulation battle carries risk of death. Confirm entry?”
“Yes.”
A sharp twinge ran through his brain. His neck was hard to move, but the sensation in his hands and feet came back first. Then his heart began beating steadily. Smell, hearing… finally, vision.
In the blink of an eye, the noisy arena and its thousands of spectators were gone—replaced by a desolate, abandoned city.
On a rooftop ahead, black liquid of unknown origin dripped steadily. Skyscrapers leaned precariously. Closest to him was an abandoned steel plant. The air reeked.
His wristwatch vibrated, and a message popped up: “Behind you.”
Su Cha turned around and saw Ji Tianjin and the Wu siblings approaching. Once they regrouped, Ji Tianjin lowered his voice: “Strange Beasts have keen hearing. Try not to make any loud noises.”
They had entered each other’s ID numbers before the match, so they wouldn’t spawn far apart. Su Cha scanned their surroundings—this looked like the city’s entrance.
Behind them lay the suburbs, with broken train tracks still visible in the distance. As he was still observing, some familiar faces came into view—Rong Shao waved from afar, with Di Yuansi and Liu Xiqin beside him.
The military’s holographic maps were all modeled after real-world locations. This city had likely once been a major district before it was destroyed by a beast invasion. In the interstellar era, planets like this were all too common.
Over 2,000 freshmen had entered, yet not a single other person was in sight—suggesting just how massive this urban map was.
Liu Xiqin, normally the quiet one, never held back when it mattered: “As we planned, two groups. How do we split the search area?”
Ji Tianjin: “One group stays in the city, the other heads outside.”
Su Cha’s team would remain in the city, which was relatively safer.
Di Yuansi hid in the shadows. Wu Zhi and Wu Shui walked one in front and one behind, keeping Su Cha in the middle for better protection.
Ji Tianjin said softly: “We’ll try to locate a strange beast nest.”
It sounded almost casual—like saying: Let’s try to get ourselves killed.
Ji Tianjin had mentioned during training that Su Cha possessed a particularly potent toxin. Given the stakes, Wu Zhi couldn’t help but worry: “Is the poison strong enough?”
Su Cha replied, “It’ll definitely enter their heat.”
Wu Zhi froze mid-step.
Wait, what? Heat??
Su Cha patiently explained: “There are two poisons used in combination. One has a floral scent that’s calming but toxic. The other induces mating behavior in the beasts. With your spiritual form and my compound, we’ll make a great team.”
Wu Zhi’s spirit form could be used to deploy the compound from a distance. Then Su Cha would activate the flower scent to spread the poison more effectively through the air.
Wu Zhi’s expression twisted. He said hoarsely, “My spirit form is a dove of peace that symbolizes love and justice.”
Su Cha: “Oh.”
A brief silence.
Wu Zhi pursed his lips. “How much should I sprinkle?”
“Doesn’t matter. Preferably on a bigger strange beast nest.”
The group continued moving forward in silence.
They kept their conversation quiet—the audience watching the live feed couldn’t hear it. Out of curiosity about the title “Treasure Boy,” the current focus was all on their team.
Wu Zhi paused in a small depression in the ground. He knelt down to inspect the size and direction of the footprints. Following the trail, he found a pile of strange beast dung beneath a tree.
“Judging by this, it hasn’t been long since it left.”
They cautiously advanced a certain distance. Wu Zhi made a hand signal, and Su Cha followed his gaze—several hundred meters ahead, in front of a shop, a terrifying creature had just dissected a stray cat alive.
Wu Shui said, “It’s alone.”
The strange beast wasn’t especially large—only five or six meters long—and appeared to be in a transitional stage toward maturity. It wouldn’t be too difficult to handle.
“Go straight in,” Wu Zhi said.
This level of threat didn’t warrant the use of Su Cha’s medicinal powder.
He had Su Cha hide in a corner. After exchanging a glance with Wu Shui, the siblings charged at the beast at full speed.
Wu Zhi moved slightly faster, drawing the beast’s attention. Meanwhile, Wu Shui pulled a hidden dagger from her boot and leapt onto the beast’s spine. The creature’s hide was tough—ordinary weapons would leave little more than a scratch—but its eyes and the exposed nerve along its neck were weak points.
Both siblings had explosive strength. Wu Shui released her spirit form—a nightingale—which darted toward the beast’s eyes. Just then, a golden eagle flew in from the side, attempting to knock the nightingale off course.
Without a decisive hit, the clash between the two spirit forms gave the beast a chance to recover.
The golden eagle was also a spirit form. A few people approached from the side—clearly here to compete for the kill. As long as the beast retained over half its health, the system wouldn’t count it as kill-stealing. Whoever delivered the finishing blow would claim the points.
There were five of them. Teaming up to farm points was a common tactic among confident squads.
One of them had already spotted Su Cha and suddenly charged at him with a clenched fist.
But even before the enemy made a move, Su Cha had already pressed a button on his pendant—a vivid, flamboyant Overlord Flower appeared instantly in his arms.
At the same time, Di Yuansi emerged from the shadows, stepping in front of Su Cha just in time and shouted sternly, “Fighting among contestants is forbidden!”
The attacker said with a roguish air, “Bare-handed, just a friendly scrap.”
He was curious—what ability came with Su Cha’s title?
The boy, half a head shorter than him, stood quietly with a flowerpot in his arms, just as he had during the earlier attack—frozen, dumbfounded, like he’d been scared stiff.
The attacker said nothing more but a flicker of disdain crossed his face. Likely some latent or useless talent.
The Wu siblings didn’t bother entangling with them. “We’re pulling out.”
The commotion had been too loud—staying would only invite trouble. Not worth it for just one beast.
Their real goal was the beast’s lair.
The other team soon finished off the beast together. Watching the rising score on their wrist displays, the attacker sneered, “Ji Tianjin sure knows how to curry favor—recruited Su Cha, only to dump him on a teammate.”
A teammate reminded, “The detector’s been going off—his flower is toxic.”
“That kind of poison? Tickles at best.”
Three of them smirked simultaneously, stifling their laughter.
Because Wu Shui had stepped in, Su Cha hadn’t used his spiritual power to activate the Overlord Flower’s poison, so the detector only picked up a trace level of toxicity.
No surprises, no fireworks. The spectators were disappointed.
Amid the groans, one viewer frowned deeply—it was the seller who’d supplied Su Cha, known online as “80YearOldBringingIllnessToTheBattlefield.” He’d lost to gambler’s instinct and bet big on Su Cha. If he didn’t make the finals, he’d take a heavy loss.
The match was being broadcast live across the entire network, but the viewership was mediocre. Simulated battles were far less challenging than live combat—not much to see.
Yet in this overlooked event, Luan Zheng, the former president of the Xilin Group, had been watching intently for some time.
Outside were over a dozen bodyguards. Inside, his subordinates were uneasy.
Their smear campaign against Su Cha had backfired. For some reason, the Investigation Department had gone all in and submitted an application to move up the sentencing. If approved, there would be no more chance to rescue anyone.
Some of those arrested knew state secrets. If they lost hope, someone might crack and confess everything.
“For the sake of their families, they should know the stakes,” a subordinate finally muttered.
Luan Zheng didn’t seem to hear. Leaning back in his chair, he continued watching the match.
The subordinate forgot to look away and glanced at the screen. It looked like an ordinary rookie match.
What exactly was the boss watching?
Someone entered the room, ignoring the nervous subordinate and lowering their head to report, “It’s arranged.”
Luan Zheng nodded, hands clasped, eyes still fixed on the match.
…
Su Cha, now largely out of the spotlight, had no idea what was unfolding in the stands—nor that another faction had joined the fray.
The once silent old city had lost all its calm. The transition zone between inner and outer districts was now in turmoil, with battles flaring and even fires breaking out.
To avoid ambushes, they moved cautiously.
Wu Zhi’s spirit form scouted low through the city; Wu Shui sent her nightingale to check the outskirts. They didn’t get lucky again with lone beasts—but ran into plenty of kill-stealers.
They weren’t in a rush. There were still hours left in the match. If Su Cha’s medicine was as potent as he claimed, then it was one of those “once-in-three-years” kinds of miracles—slow to start, but explosive when it hits.
The only viewers still watching Su Cha were those who’d bet on his team. Ji Tianjin had already taken down two beasts, and this side still hadn’t made a move, leaving their score low.
“Where’s this so-called treasure?” someone cursed.
“Just wait—maybe there’ll be a miracle,” someone replied with sarcasm.
“Miracle like the end of the world?” The man was about to keep mocking when he suddenly sat up straight, staring at the screen.
A masked man had somehow appeared in the city. Two-thirds of his face was covered, with only the area around his left eye exposed—revealing a long, clear scar.
“Star Pirate! It’s Star Pirate Fasite!”
