Chapter 22: I Didn’t Say That...
It really was a Rabbit from the Stick Nation, not a human...
But by the time Xu Tiange heard the words relayed by his juniors, it was already too late.
The battle had begun, and there was no way to stop it unilaterally.
Fortunately, the tall lady’s dual hammers were powerful enough—blunt force beyond the threshold would cause the silkworms to burst, a weakness of theirs. In the end, she swept through the wave like a whirlwind, clearing everything away.
The corridor was filled with the smell of liquefied gas, and the hammers felt much lighter than at the start of the fight. She handed the hammer to the inflating junior, and Xu Tiange, unwilling to give up, tore open the mummy wrappings.
“Squeak! Squeak!” The Rabbit struggled desperately, twisting like a salted fish—no, a salted rabbit.
These creatures were about human-sized, with fair skin, beautiful faces, and long legs. Wrapped up like silkworm mummy—“Who could tell the difference?”
Who would have thought that, while the silkworms surrounded the students, they were also fighting the Rabbits—and won completely.
“I could!” Ye Chao declared, knowing nothing of humility.
In truth, it wasn’t easy for him either. He contacted the front lines, confirmed the headcount, then used cameras to observe the mummified shapes and movements… It would be tough for anyone else to guess so boldly.
“Ye Chao, how dare you! If only you’d spoken faster, none of this would have happened!” Xu Tiange was embarrassed and angry.
“You rushed ahead too quickly! I tried to stop you, but couldn’t!”
“You’re a man, why are you so slow and fussy—acting like a woman!”
“You’re a woman, but you’ve beaten all the boys in the grade so they can’t lift their heads… Do you even know what a ‘Big Hawk Cute Girl’ is? Hey, that’s not my line…”
The second, quieter sentence went unnoticed.
Big Hawk Cute Girl—the term had vanished for decades, but when suddenly used, everyone instantly understood.
Big Hawk Cute Girl… The four juniors instantly trembled, even Zhao Sanxiang, not yet fully untied, bounced and scrambled several meters away.
Xu Tiange’s expression was gloomy and unclear, but the air in the corridor seemed to pulse uneasily, waves of oppressive pressure prickling their skin: “Ye~ Chao~ I~ want~ to~ duel~ you!”
“It really wasn’t me…” Even with low emotional intelligence, Ye Chao knew that was an inappropriate remark.
But just how inappropriate, he couldn’t quite grasp—like a liberal arts student facing advanced mathematics.
“Are you messing around?” Without much sincerity in his explanation, Ye Chao cut the connection and furtively questioned Alpha Ji. There was no way anyone else could so flawlessly mimic his voice over the phone except Alpha Ji.
What he didn’t know was, on the other end, Xu Tiange’s anger had already burst through the roof. If the phone had wires, she’d have climbed through them already.
“It was me, so what!” Alpha Ji admitted openly, laughing wildly inside, her abs roaring.
Muahaha, unexpected, isn’t it? Didn’t see this trick coming, did you!
[Affinity +23]
Before the Cataclysm, she often played tricks like this as a dating advisor for those programmers. Of course, back then she worked hard to make clients lovable and charming; now, she made Ye Chao hated by gods and men, a reversal with the flick of a hand.
You little brat, dare to disgust me? I’ll play you to death!
“What are you… trying to do?” Ye Chao couldn’t understand Alpha Ji’s inner drama, only doubting her motives.
Was she deliberately sabotaging him? Impossible—do programs even have a sabotage function?
“What am I doing? I saw you courting death and just decided to help you along…”
Courting death? Ye Chao couldn’t make sense of Alpha Ji’s words. What in the world was she talking about? Were they even speaking the same language?
“Are you bugged?” Suddenly, Ye Chao thought of something, his expression turning serious.
“You’re bugged! Your whole family’s bugged!” Alpha Ji erupted in fury, flinging Ye Chao a triple meme: What’s wrong with being fat? Did I eat your rice? Did I drink your water?
[Affinity -44]
Not a bug? Then what was it?
And… why was the affinity score fluctuating so oddly? What was the underlying logic? The rules he’d deduced before seemed wrong.
Ye Chao was full of questions, but had no time to dig deeper. Having barely resolved the silkworm crisis on one side, a new problem emerged on the other...
==========
Though the silkworms were fierce and the Rabbits strong, and there were other monsters and tests in the corridor, under Ye Chao’s coordination and dispatch, each was dealt with one by one.
It was, after all, just an exam—not meant to push the students to the brink. The test had a syllabus; it wouldn’t pose unsolvable problems.
With more communication terminals discovered, repaired, and integrated into the network, the relayed signals grew stronger. Ye Chao’s computational power increased, his consumption decreased, and his grasp of the overall situation became ever more precise.
With him orchestrating from the center, and Xu Tiange’s combat abilities far beyond typical high school standards—
Tests meant for five could now be tackled by ten or even twenty students at once;
Challenges that might have split and confused teams were rendered powerless.
Originally, some trials reserved for later stages required at least twenty or thirty participants to pass—even teachers in some years had to ease up on those. Now, they were swept aside like dead leaves.
The exam continued.
Students didn’t think much of it, but the teachers were growing restless…
Through thin, mirror-like screens, the students’ performances were displayed in detail.
On the screens, words appeared—floating as if on a temporary network forum, with posts continually being made. The difference was... the words weren’t in the usual computer fonts, but handwritten.
The handwriting varied, sometimes so fresh the ink seemed wet. The wet ink would quickly be wiped away, replaced by new words.
“In another half hour, these kids will find the exit, won’t they?”
“At this rate, how can this continue?”
“It’s way too fast!”
It really was too fast!
According to the exam’s design, students shouldn’t find the exit until late into the night.
By then, they’d be exhausted from energy depletion, hungry. The normally short path would feel endless, monsters would automatically ramp up in difficulty.
With their bodies deprived of nutrients and fatigue from battle, their concentration would drop, willpower weaken, mistakes creep in, individuals would begin to doubt themselves or each other, and teams would fall into conflict…
That was supposed to be the real test of character and ability.
But at this speed, they’d never reach that point—not in this lifetime…
“And who would have thought Ye Chao would be the one taking first place?”
“How many points now? Surely breaking records!”
“No, we need to rein him in. If this kid takes the top spot, who’ll bother to work hard anymore?”
“This—this isn’t very fair, is it?” Were they about to alter the test on the fly?
“Shut up! Math teachers don’t get a say!”