Inside the exam hall, the rookies of Cygnus Squadron were tense.

They couldn’t see the scores of other teams, only guessing by comparison.

Chu Xiao and a few who’d already finished their first‑round shooting crouched in the waiting area, sneaking glances.

“Look at their posture when raising the rifles—definitely pros.”

“The other teams must be averaging 9.9 shots or higher. We’re probably bottom.”

“I swear, how are we supposed to compete?”

The group whispered anxiously.

The more Chu Xiao listened, the more his anxiety grew.

Ten bullseyes weren’t enough.

“Even if we lose the first round, there are two more. We just have to catch up.”

But as soon as he said it, morale plummeted further.

“You say that like it’s easy. The dynamic test and simulated combat are way tougher. If we can’t even do static shooting as well, we’re doomed.”

“We’re screwed. I want to cry. Major General Jing’s been so good to us, and all we do is embarrass him.”

“Stop it, I’m going to break down.”

Chu Xiao: “…”

The second round—dynamic shooting—began. Rookies had to hit ten small balls fired out simultaneously by the machine. The more hits, the higher the score.

Canis Major dominated, averaging 8.5.

“This year’s ball velocity is a lot higher than last year. That’s a solid result.”

“Canis Major’s performance is steady as always.”

“Now, let’s see how Cygnus does.”

After Chi Yao’s earlier provocations, every officer was curious.

The scandal on X30 had spread across the military—everyone knew Jing Xi hadn’t seriously trained his rookies. Big talk was one thing, but no one believed Cygnus had a chance against Canis Major.

Meanwhile, Chi Yao lounged with his chin propped up, casually scrolling through reports Jiang Feng had sent.

One line made him pause.

【They reported yesterday they’ve found someone who fits the requirements. Currently located in Cetus Sector. They said they can bring him over, but it’s risky and costs extra.】

Fits the requirements? Cetus Sector?

Chi Yao narrowed his eyes and replied:

【Get their full details on this person first. I need to confirm.】

Within thirty seconds, Jiang Feng replied:

【I’ll forward half the fee then.】

Chi Yao responded absently, “hmm,” before soon receiving a deduction notice—two million credits gone, balance now 0.36.

Chi Yao: “…”

No wonder this guy can’t afford a big house.

“Whoa! Full score!”

“That baby‑face—what’s his name? I want to recruit him.”

“A natural sniper.”

“Another full score! This Cygnus batch isn’t bad at all!”

The cheers in the hall snapped Chi Yao back. He closed his terminal, raising his eyes to the giant screen.

Cygnus rookies were up. Chu Xiao had nailed all ten, stepping down with a grin. The rest went wild—nine or ten hits each.

Chi Yao barely blinked. Not surprising. The balls were fast, yes, but their flight paths predictable.

Back at the waiting area, the last Cygnus rookie scratched his head in confusion.

“Am I crazy, or were these balls way slower?”

“Yeah! It was so easy to hit them!”

“Before, I could never follow them. This time they were clear as day.”

Chu Xiao glanced at the numbers on the screen, then murmured:

“They’re not slower. Our eyesight’s improved. Dynamic vision.”

Compared to shooting mutant chickens or fish back at X30, these little balls were child’s play.

The squad celebrated for about three seconds—then sagged again.

“Still, I missed one…”

“Me too, I just watched it fly away.”

“I’m garbage. Dragging down the average.”

Chu Xiao: “…”

Are you people serious?

When Cygnus’s final average score appeared, the hall went dead silent.

9.5!

One entire hit higher than Canis Major, and 1.5 higher than everyone else.

Who the hell had said these rookies were trash? This was a dream team!

The officer beside Chi Yao blurted:

“How did you train them to improve so much in such a short time?”

“With results like this? They can get it just by playing around.” Chi Yao sneered, enjoying Li Bo’s darkening face. “New recruits—no need to pressure them.”

The hall: “…”

Playing around and beating everyone? Yeah sure, what a humblebrag.

Pei Zhenyue: “…”

Was he always this aggravating? …Strangely satisfying as long as it wasn’t aimed at him.

Across the table, Li Bo’s fists clenched white.

Winning one round meant nothing. His rookies excelled in combat sims—they would reclaim the lead.

That’s what he told himself. But an hour later, as the gap between the two teams only grew… he sat choking with rage.

After three rounds, Cygnus was firmly in first. Canis Major second.

Li Bo ground his molars in silence. There were still seven or eight events. Still a chance.

Two days later, Chu Xiao and his squad excitedly crowded to the plaza to see the final rankings.

It was packed—they squeezed but couldn’t reach. Chu Xiao bumped into a beta from Canis Major.

Before he could apologize, the man sneered:

“Cygnus? You guys even need to look at the results?”

Laughter spread around—the Cygnus squad had been annual bottom feeders. Best case: second to last.

Chu Xiao glanced at his ID badge—Canis Major.

“Then you don’t need to look either. Let us through instead.”

No malice, just stating fact. Canis Major was famous for being top tier.

“Us equals you? Don’t flatter yourselves,” the beta sneered. “If I were you, I’d hide in the dorms, too embarrassed to show my face.”

Normally, that’d stir fury. But the rookies of Cygnus only looked… tempted to agree.

They were trash. Getting used to the shame by now.

“Rankings posted!” someone shouted.

Everyone looked up at once.

Chu Xiao’s heart jammed as he scanned the bottom. Not them—relief surged.

Not last place!

They scrolled up. 180th… not there. 160th… no sign.

Chu Xiao panicked and scrolled back down. Had he missed them?

“What the hell? Must be an error!”

“First place… how could it be them?!”

“No way! Cygnus?!”

Gasps rippled.

Chu Xiao’s squad stood stunned.

They looked up. Yes—the names they couldn’t find… were at the very top.

Holy sh*t.

First place?! Accidentally?!

It didn’t even feel real.

A teammate nudged Chu Xiao nervously.

“Old Chu… I’m not dreaming, right?”

Chu Xiao was blank for a long while before muttering:

“Was everyone else just really weak this year…?”

Unfortunately, a Canis Major beta heard that. Thinking it was a direct jab at his earlier mockery, he turned red and stumbled off in humiliation.

Chu Xiao blinked, then bolted.

The others shouted: “Where are you going now?!”

Chu Xiao: “To thank Major General Jing!”

The squad exchanged looks, then all followed.

Back in the hall, Chi Yao reclined with a bright smile, watching Li Bo’s face grow sickly day by day.

Pei Zhenyue caught his smug expression and mused privately—so effortless… no wonder Chi Yao had caught his eye long ago.

When the final results came in, Pei Zhenyue addressed the room:

“Upon return, all commanding officers will submit detailed training reports for record in year‑end assessment. Take it seriously.”

The instructors groaned but agreed.

Pei Zhenyue took the chance to build some goodwill with Jing Xi.

“In particular, Cygnus performed outstandingly. To reverse from last to first in just one month shows Major General Jing’s effort and the two instructors’ dedication. I expect you to maintain that work ethic moving forward.”

Praise from a top general—publicly, no less!

The round‑faced and dark‑skinned instructors leapt up, saluting briskly.

“Yes, sir! We won’t fail your expectations!”

Pei Zhenyue nodded, then turned to Jing Xi.

“And you?”

At least say something after being praised.

Chi Yao: “Hardly put in any effort.”

Pei Zhenyue: “…”

Others: “…”

Chi Yao chuckled.

“The win’s thanks to our opponents lowering the bar. Much obliged, General Li.”

Li Bo’s face went iron‑blue.

“Major General Jing, no need for false modesty. You led them well.”

Around the room, comparisons flared.

Li Bo was capable, a recognized talent of their cohort. But against Jing Xi, whose every metric overshadowed him, he looked diminished.

This training test made it undeniable: Jing Xi had taken the weakest team and made them best.

Li Bo, given the strongest team, hadn’t squeezed out anything greater than their baseline.

The gap was glaring—wide as eighteen streets.

If Chen Bingfeng had any sense, he wouldn’t sideline Jing Xi while propping up Li Bo. What a waste.

Chi Yao sneered, too bored to argue further.

“Results are settled. Time to honor the bet. Cetus Sector—hand it over.”

Everyone turned, waiting for Li Bo’s reaction.

Cetus was prime territory—worth more than all Jing Xi’s holdings combined.

He never dreamed Jing Xi might actually win, so he’d staked it casually.

If he gave it up, resources gutted. If he didn’t, not only would Jing Xi pursue it, but his own credibility would collapse.

Under the eyes of commanders and peers, Li Bo was cornered.

He opened his mouth, voice strained.

“There are ongoing projects on Cetus… let’s switch it for White Bear instead—”

Clack!

Chi Yao slammed his cup onto the table.

The smile on his lips chilled.

“You think I’m a beggar?”

Li Bo scowled.

“But Cetus—I don’t have final say—”

Chi Yao: “And you dared use what you can’t control as a wager?”

Li Bo’s teeth clenched shut.

If he handed it over, General Chen would skin him alive.

As Chi Yao’s fist twitched, Pei Zhenyue intervened.

“A bet is a bet. But how about this—”

Li Bo’s gut twisted.

Pei Zhenyue continued firmly:

“You’ll face off again. If Jing Xi wins, Li Bo surrenders Cetus. Don’t worry about paperwork, I’ll mediate. If Jing Xi loses, the bet’s void.”

His eyes swept both officers.

“Well? Deal?”

Chi Yao raised his lids, smirked at Li Bo.

“I like it.”

Li Bo’s face burned dark—but he couldn’t quite nod.

The onlookers: “…!”

Things were about to get interesting.

__

Author’s Note:

Chi Yao: Thanks for the invite—I was just looking for a fight.

Pei Zhenyue: Such a good boy. Since I understand you so well, why not come under my wing?

Chi Yao: I already belong to… me.

Pei Zhenyue: …

Jing Xi: …