Due to his prestigious family background and natural talent, Ji Tianjin’s face was hardly unfamiliar to most reporters—or to the viewers currently watching the live broadcast.
What they couldn’t understand was: why did he jump off the stretcher just to hit someone?
The scene was chaotic, and the cameras were positioned a bit far away. The reporters couldn’t hear what Ji Tianjin said—only one who could read lips thought it looked like he was cursing Shen Ningze’s grandfather.
No one was more confused than Shen Ningze himself. In terms of ruthlessness, the boy who once used himself as a test subject and brought down an entire corporation was no less dangerous than the infamous star pirate Fasite.
A thousand thoughts flashed through Shen Ningze’s mind at that moment.
Had he been exposed? Otherwise, why hit him and curse him? If he was exposed, shouldn’t they have reported it to the Investigation Department? Could it be due to lack of evidence? But if so, wasn’t it reckless to alert him like this?
Ji Tianjin waved at the equally bewildered emergency staff. “I’ll walk on my own.”
As he passed Su Cha’s stretcher, he nodded. “Focus on recovery.”
He had done everything he promised.
Su Cha’s fingers twitched on the stretcher, but he couldn’t utter a single word. His head tilted to one side as he slipped back into unconsciousness.
One of the stretcher carriers shouted, “He’s passed out again—get him on the aircraft, quick!”
The medical aircraft turned into a streak of light and vanished into the sky. Not long after, it arrived at the hospital.
Su Cha was rushed straight into the emergency room, and the surgical doors closed behind him.
Many students were being brought to the hospital one after another. Among the survivors, Su Cha’s injuries were by far the most severe.
Meanwhile, on a remote and secret barren star, Fasite stumbled out of a biological pod in disarray.
“D*mn it.” Who would’ve thought he’d fall at the hands of an insect like that?
The usual smirk in his eyes was completely gone—his ruthless nature now laid bare. But before he could even plan his revenge, his expression abruptly changed. He leapt back into the pod, then launched his warship into escape.
A colossal dragon’s eyes surveyed everything from the sky. The golden dragon breathed fire that melted through the warship’s reinforced tail wing.
“Faster! We have to go faster!”
The warship lost balance and rocked violently. The dragon’s terrifying spiritual force swept across nearby barren stars like a tsunami, leveling them entirely.
Fasite’s spiritual energy began to riot. In desperation, he injected himself with three full tubes of D-32 serum to forcibly suppress his out-of-control power.
At this rate, it was only a matter of time before the ship and its pilot were destroyed. Clenching his teeth, Fasite changed course and plunged into a dark wormhole nearby. It was clearly unstable—whether he lived or died would now depend entirely on luck.
Imperial Capital.
The ground trembled slightly. At first, people thought it was an earthquake and moved to open areas for safety. But after a while, no stronger tremors came.
A flash of golden light passed through the clouds.
“It’s His Majesty’s spirit form,” someone murmured, recognizing the sign.
A ruler strong enough to govern an empire must naturally possess strength and status of the highest order.
Fasite had thought that hiding on a desolate star meant he had nothing to fear once the simulation battle ended. He assumed that by the time the military searched the stars one by one, he’d be long gone. What he hadn’t expected was for the ruler of the Galan Empire to directly sweep the surrounding desolate stars with spiritual force, catching him completely off guard.
“Thoroughly investigate.”
A commanding voice rang out inside the royal palace.
Soon after, the Chief of the Investigation Department was urgently summoned to the palace.
When he finally emerged again, he let out a quiet breath. His Majesty’s spiritual power had become even more overwhelming—he had barely been able to breathe while inside.
The Deputy Chief, who had been waiting outside, quickly walked up upon seeing Xie Rongjue and said eagerly, “The military has a traitor. Now’s the perfect time to submit a report against them.”
Xie Rongjue gave him a glance. The Deputy Chief shifted uncomfortably under his gaze and swallowed hard.
“The military’s negligence will, of course, be held accountable by His Majesty,” Xie Rongjue warned. “But don’t get clever—His Majesty is aiming to check the military’s power, not suppress it.”
Su Cha was unaware of the turmoil unfolding in the Imperial Capital.
He only felt as though he’d had a long, intense dream. The pain and exhaustion were so overwhelming that his mind couldn’t focus on anything.
Inside the intensive care unit, Su Cha’s body was connected to countless tubes.
Outside, several experts were gathered, discussing his condition. The lead physician lifted his hand slightly, and the discussion stopped instantly.
The visitor was the principal of the affiliated school. With a student being treated at the hospital, it was only natural for him to inquire. The attending doctor, appearing respectful, nodded slightly and said, “His will to survive is very strong—he should be able to make it through.”
Su Cha’s desire to live was indeed extraordinarily strong. Based on the doctors’ conservative estimate, it should’ve taken at least three or four days for him to regain consciousness. But after just a day and a night, he began to stir.
The moment he tried to move, a wave of dizziness washed over him. Su Cha strained to confirm that it was indeed nighttime outside, and not just a problem with his vision. He barely managed to press the call button beside the bed, and someone quickly came in.
“He’s awake!” the nurse exclaimed in delight.
In the second half of the night, Su Cha spoke a few groggy sentences with the doctors. He vaguely remembered undergoing some tests before drifting off again.
When he next opened his eyes, the first person he saw was Rong Shao.
“Great! You woke up so soon—those blessings must’ve worked.”
The floor Su Cha was on had tight security, and Rong Shao was only able to visit because he was also being treated on the same level.
“Blessings?”
Rong Shao pulled out his communicator and showed it to him.
[Brave young man sacrifices himself for others—let’s share and send our blessings.]
The post had over a hundred million shares and likes.
Each share came with a praying-hands emoji.
“Take it…”
Take it away—Su Cha’s eyes were straining from the brightness of the screen.
Thinking Su Cha couldn’t see clearly, Rong Shao helpfully brought the device closer.
Su Cha gave him a deep look. No wonder Rong Shao and Ji Tianjin were friends—their ability to read the situation was top-notch.
The doctor had said he couldn’t drink water until noon, and Su Cha’s throat was still hoarse. Before Rong Shao could show off any more of his perceptiveness, Su Cha asked, “What about the others?”
“Liu Xiqin and the rest weren’t seriously injured. After some checks, they were allowed to go home. Ji Tianjin…” Rong Shao’s expression grew odd, and he didn’t finish his sentence. His communicator buzzed—it was a message urging him to head downstairs. Flying vehicles weren’t allowed to stop outside for long.
After Rong Shao left, Su Cha stayed in the hospital for a few more days. Doctors came daily to monitor his recovery.
“Your recovery ability is incredible,” the attending physician said. “I’ve reviewed your previous medical records—activating combat mode with a spiritual force level under 100 should’ve left you with severe brain damage, if not killed you.”
Su Cha smiled but said nothing.
Ji Tianjin had once speculated that Su Cha’s actual spiritual force might not be low—it was just too gentle to manifest powerful offensive abilities.
Thanks to his rapid recovery, Su Cha was cleared for discharge in under a week.
He put on his familiar raincoat. The weather was nice that day. But just as he stepped out, ready to enjoy the feel of sunlight again, he saw a long black car parked ahead. Two large men in uniform stood beside it.
Su Cha had seen that uniform before.
They were from the Investigation Department. The department had restored part of the blocked footage from the valley and had come to escort him for a full incident reconstruction—to understand everything Fasite had done that day.
The department had thoughtfully chosen a car for transport, knowing that using a flying vehicle could cause vertigo in someone recently recovered from severe injury.
Unfortunately, that illusion of gentleness shattered in less than a minute.
In the back seat, just as Su Cha closed his eyes to rest, he received a message from Yise.
[The military has nominated you for the “Rose Warrior” medal. The Investigation Department opposes it—someone is trying to paint you as the catalyst of this entire incident.]
The Investigation Department was a distorted institution. Many of its methods were underhanded, but its effectiveness was beyond question.
Fasite had fled too hastily. The Investigation Department had found traces in the biological pod he used, leading them to suspect connections to remnants of live-body experiments. Their twofold goal: to sow chaos and to kill Su Cha.
Whether Su Cha was involved or not, a terror attack was destined to happen with Judgment Day approaching. Mike, who had some influence in the military, had set off a disastrous chain reaction.
In that sense, this was a stroke of luck amidst misfortune.
But if Su Cha’s role in the event was overly praised—considering that Yise had personally recommended him for enrollment—the military could use that to offset their mistakes. The “Rose Warrior” title was no small honor, and some radical factions were firmly opposed to it being awarded to Su Cha.
Su Cha understood clearly—he had been drawn into a political struggle.
[Xie Rongjue personally led a team into the wormhole to hunt down Fasite. Once you’re in the Investigation Department, ignore everyone else—you only need to insist on one thing: you’ll only report to the Head of the Investigation Department personally.]
Su Cha lightly rubbed the seatbelt with his fingers. Yise’s meaning was clear: stall for time. The military intended to handle everything before Xie Rongjue returned.
While he pondered this, the car sped along.
The Investigation Department was isolated, with no other buildings nearby. Civilians kept their distance from it. Outside its tightly-constructed structure floated a sword, held aloft by unknown technology, as if it could fall on someone’s neck at any moment.
A flying craft arrived almost at the same time as their car. Su Cha spotted a familiar figure stepping out of it and quickly unfastened his seatbelt to greet him. “Why are you here?”
Ji Tianjin replied calmly, “To answer questions.”
Su Cha was confused. “What questions?”
Ji Tianjin: “Why I hit Shen Ningze.”
“…”
Ji Tianjin, who would fight someone even while strapped to a stretcher, had attacked a former victim of the human experimentation case. The Investigation Department was bound to question the deeper implications.
Su Cha still found it strange. Ji Tianjin was usually so composed. Even if he misunderstood something, he wouldn’t have acted in public like that.
As if sensing Su Cha’s doubts, Ji Tianjin slowly said, “I was triggered during the simulated battle. Shen Ningze barged in suddenly—it was just a stress reaction.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed two Investigation Department agents approaching. They pretended to slow their pace but were clearly eavesdropping.
That “stress reaction” excuse was just a cover. Su Cha silently headed into the main hall. As he climbed the steps, he realized something—Ji Tianjin’s actions had dragged Shen Ningze back into the Investigation Department’s line of sight.
Could Ji Tianjin suspect Shen Ningze had ulterior motives?
For Ji Tianjin, this was a minor issue—just a simple statement on the first floor. But because it involved Shen Ningze, he had been summoned personally.
Su Cha, on the other hand, was taken to the 18th floor. The escort informed him, “The special task force just finished copying the surveillance footage. They’ll be here in about 20 minutes. Please wait a bit.”
“Do you have food?”
The investigator was taken aback but had someone bring nutritional supplements and a fruit platter.
Su Cha asked, “Any eggs and milk? I’ll take those too.”
He was genuinely hungry.
Normally, drinking the supplement would suppress one’s appetite, but they still brought what he requested.
Su Cha sat alone in the waiting area.
After downing the supplement, he felt no sense of fullness and quickly finished the eggs and milk. Five minutes later, he was still hungry and polished off the fruit as well.
His sudden appetite triggered alarm bells. Su Cha carefully examined himself using his demon powers and was surprised to find his meridians much stronger than before. But this improvement came with a cost: abnormal body temperature, low-grade fever, and irregular heartbeat.
Just as he was trying to determine the cause, the special task force members arrived and took him into a sealed room.
They projected the recovered footage from the valley. Much of it was still missing. The officer began his briefing: “Fasite immediately attacked the students upon arrival. Then he gave up the slaughter to chase you. You led him to the valley…”
Su Cha narrowed his eyes. At first glance, it sounded fine, but it erased the fact that he had intentionally drawn the star pirate away. He wasn’t trying to brag, but he wasn’t a pushover either.
He could be softer than a pushover if needed.
“I…” His voice was faint.
The officer leaned in.
Su Cha still spoke softly.
The officer couldn’t help but raise his voice. “What? Speak louder.”
At that moment, Su Cha suddenly began to cough violently, clutching his chest. “I… I don’t feel well.”
His face went pale. The officer paused, quickly opened the door for ventilation, and reached for his phone to call for help.
Before he could dial, the Deputy Chief appeared and stopped him. The Deputy had been monitoring everything and immediately saw through Su Cha’s act.
He’d just eaten a basket of fruit, eggs, and nutritional supplements—and now claimed he was unwell? Who was he trying to fool?
“You’ve got a lot to learn,” the Deputy muttered, giving the officer a glance.
Bang! The interrogation room door closed again. The Deputy sat opposite Su Cha, smiling coldly as he resumed questioning.
Su Cha kept his eyes down, still holding his chest.
“I don’t like slick kids.”
The spiritual power made it hard to breathe. Su Cha smiled faintly. He didn’t like being bullied by spiritual power either.
He leaned his head back—and without warning, collapsed.
That look of panic and despair… If people like Zhao Shi, who once tried to pay him to quit the competition, saw it, they’d instantly recognize it and sigh: Ah, that d*mn angle—even the way his hair flipped while faking the fall is exactly the same.
So fake.
The experienced Deputy Minister emotionlessly dialed for medical staff.
The Investigation Department had its own medical team. It would be easy to expose the act on-site and avoid further disputes with the military. Someone who pretended to faint didn’t deserve the title “Rose Warrior.”
The medics arrived quickly. After a brief check, one shouted outside, “Stretcher! Hurry!”
The Deputy was stunned. “He’s not faking?” Seeing the medic’s furrowed brow, he changed his question: “Then… is it because he overate?”
The medic looked at him like he was talking nonsense.
Overate so much that it caused cold limbs and premature heartbeats?
As Su Cha was carried out, many people noticed. Someone asked the officer, “What happened?”
The officer was confused. “The Deputy said I needed more training, then decided to question him himself.”
He swore he just asked a few questions and made the guy faint. The Deputy? He questioned him until they had to carry him out.
Meanwhile, Ji Tianjin had just exited another interrogation room when he saw Su Cha being wheeled past. When he noticed the other boy peeking out through a slit in his eyelids, Ji Tianjin paused, took out his phone, and recorded a video.
During that moment, Su Cha subtly made an “OK” gesture with his hanging hand.
Ji Tianjin paused the recording, clipped out the gesture, and uploaded the video to the principal via the school website. Since he didn’t have Yise’s contact info, he sent it to his family, asking them to forward it.
[“He walked in upright, but came out lying down. Please hold the Investigation Department accountable.”]
Less than an hour after being discharged, Su Cha was sent back to the hospital.
The first thing he said to the doctor was, “I don’t want to go to the Investigation Department again.”
His voice wasn’t loud, but it carried deep sadness.
The agent who had escorted him felt embarrassed. No one denied Su Cha’s contribution during the simulated battle rescue, and the Deputy had definitely gone too far this time.
Su Cha’s primary doctor wasn’t afraid of the Investigation Department. With a scowl, he drove the agents out.
In fact, Su Cha had been fully cleared the day before. But today’s tests did show low-grade fever and premature heartbeat. After a thorough screening, a surprising conclusion emerged: his awakening had officially entered Phase One.
The doctor immediately called the affiliated high school principal to report. A patient just discharged shouldn’t suddenly have a deepened awakening. There were only two possibilities: either he was a rare 1-in-1000 case, or the crisis he experienced had triggered his potential.
Not long after the call, the principal personally came to the hospital.
When Su Cha saw that stern and dignified face, he felt like all his secrets had been laid bare.
The principal didn’t believe the dignified Deputy would be foolish enough to use force at headquarters. This incident, he believed, was the result of Su Cha deliberately orchestrating a chain of coincidences.
“Child, you’ve suffered.”
Su Cha, still wondering if his act had been exposed, remained silent.
Then the principal added, “Don’t worry, the school will make sure justice is done for you.”