Chapter 230
The second post made Su Bei chuckle. Without any hints, so many readers thought he was in Destiny.
But even the boldest guess wasn’t as bold as the truth: he wasn’t Destiny’s Young Master but its true Master.
Speaking of Destiny, Su Bei planned to use his free time to read its secret records. As they say, people can’t teach, but events can. Cyril’s actions were a lesson.
Just hearing the underground humans’ traits, Cyril grasped their identity, seizing the initiative to scheme. Likely because Black Flash’s goals aligned with studying such beings, but his quick reaction showed his vast knowledge.
Such knowledge came from years of study and experience, but even without experience, it was achievable with resources.
As Destiny’s leader, Su Bei had access to traded intel, known only to the traders and him. This included time-sensitive info, world secrets, and specialized knowledge. Memorizing most of the latter would make him far more learned.
Memorizing was tough, but as a lifelong academic, given time, he could cram his brain with it.
Conveniently, Black Flash wouldn’t stir for a while, and the first half-year’s events were packed, so the author might take a break.
Not using this time to arm himself with knowledge would betray his hard-built Destiny.Waking the next day, Su Bei and others were placed in separate rooms, each questioned about their experience by a staff member. It felt like an interrogation, but the fruit, drinks, snacks, and comfy chairs eased their discontent.
Warned by Meng Huai, Su Bei exaggerated the misery without twisting facts. Since he’d been with Wu Jin, who rarely spoke, Su Bei was perfect for playing the victim.
He didn’t lie—just amplified his fear facing Cyril and Li Xiang alone and their threat. That alone convinced the staff he’d been in grave danger.
Afterwards, they left without instructions. At lunch, they unexpectedly saw Feng Lan. With the earlier chaos, everyone should’ve been sent back, including Feng Lan.
But Jiang Tianming asked: “You’re here for the underground Prophecy?”
Feng Lan, cutting his steak, nodded: “Mm.”
“What’s that mean?” Zuzong, unfamiliar with Feng Lan, asked curiously. “He can handle Prophecies?”
Recalling yesterday’s talk, Zuzong eyed Feng Lan: “He’s a Feng? Even so, they wouldn’t send a student, right? What can a student do…”
“He’s the Feng Family head,” Huangfu Mingzhe cut in coolly.
Zuzong: “…”
The clown was him.
But soon, curiosity returned: “What’s your Ability?”
“[Prophecy],” Feng Lan replied flatly.
Zuzong: “…”
No wonder he was the Feng Family head. He zipped his lips, shutting up.
After lunch, they returned to the meeting room. No outsiders this time—just the three schools’ heads and their class teachers. Notably, Qiao Mu and Li Bowen were awake, waiting.
Seeing them lively, everyone was thrilled, especially their classmates, who swarmed them with greetings.
After, Houde’s Teacher Wang began: “Ahem, take a seat. We called you for two things. First, the outcome of the incident from the entertainment match.”
They didn’t need to know, but since Su Bei’s group nearly resolved it, and Ability users start missions young, valuing minors more than in other fields, they were told everything.
First, the Prophecy. The Feng Family, including Feng Lan, was here. Feng Lan would skip school to focus on it.
Next, an exchange of “hostages.” The government sent a construction team underground to improve living conditions and monitor for secret moves.
The underground sent people up, including those experiencing surface life and Xiao Fan.
As a traitor but high-status, to prevent the Spirit Tribe from freeing him, he was handed to the government. Their only demand was that he not die, with regular visits allowed.
They’d also build a ready-to-move-in surface residence for when they wanted to come up.
“Why do we need to hear this…” As Teacher Wang droned on, Zuzong whispered complaints to Li Bowen. But he forgot Ability users’ sharp hearing. Teacher Wang’s dagger-like gaze pinned him. Another teacher might’ve let it slide, but she was his homeroom teacher.
“What’re you saying?” She pointed at Zuzong. “Love talking? Come up and talk!”
“No, no,” Zuzong shook his head.
But Teacher Wang wasn’t letting him off, or rather, she used his complaint to explain why they were told.
No choice. Seeing her seriousness, Zuzong dutifully rephrased: “I said, why do teachers bother telling us the government’s plans?”
Teacher Wang, knowing what he’d said, glared, then announced: “Many of you probably wonder this. You didn’t need to know—just see the results.”
No one spoke, but some agreed.
Teacher Wang nodded knowingly: “Many of you are 16, two years from adulthood. Ability users skip regular college for work. You’ll face these issues directly. Every learning chance now is crucial. How do you solve similar problems? What do you need to consider? You need to learn this.”
They’d work young, lacking social experience. Without learning now, they’d mess up later.
Convinced, everyone nodded, listening patiently to the plans.
Finally, the second matter: “Your rewards. We fought the government for them. Surprisingly, everyone gets a Vixi Holy Land trip, upgraded to top-tier treatment.”
Vixi Holy Land, with limited access, required wealth for entry, but higher treatment needed status and contributions.
Su Bei’s group earned this for helping the Feng Family, but as a class trip, even the Fengs couldn’t give everyone top treatment without favoritism, so they got basic tourist status.
Vixi’s ranks were tourist, guest, regular, and VIP. They’d jumped to VIP—free access to all activities, best hotels, top treatment, and gifts upon leaving.
A great reward. Money alone couldn’t secure VIP status—only long-term partners or major governments got it.
Its rarity made it their only reward, but they didn’t mind. Ability users earned plenty from missions, especially strong ones like them.
Strength-enhancing opportunities mattered most. A VIP Vixi trip, used well, would boost their power significantly.
With everything covered, Teacher Wang didn’t linger, waving them off to their teachers.
Back at school on Monday, the academy was humane, giving them rest days.
Entering the classroom, Su Bei saw everyone crowding Jiang Tianming’s group, eagerly asking about the Tri-School Competition’s aftermath. Seeing them trapped by Cyril and Li Xiang on-screen had been terrifying, especially Cyril’s words, fearing they’d die.
Then, their plan to drag Cyril and Li Xiang down in a mutual death was despairing. Many hoped they’d compromise, even tactically.
But the twist was unexpected—they vanished underground. No trace was found despite digging.
This shook the Ability world, with countless eyes on the outcome. The government confirmed they were alive via an Ability user.
After several anxious days, they emerged.
No one knew what happened—government secrecy and no leaks from reporters. Now, seeing Jiang Tianming’s group, the curious swarmed.
But they’d signed NDAs. Jiang Tianming shook his head: “Sorry, can’t say. Maybe one day you’ll know.”
Realizing the government’s NDA, they curbed their curiosity to avoid trouble.
“You can’t talk about your disappearance, but Cyril and that other Black Flash guy appeared publicly. Can you talk about them?” Ai Baozhu found another angle.
That was fine. Si Zhaohua said: “They came for us at first, but in the new place, something more interesting caught their eye, so they went for it. Luckily, we stopped them…” Su Bei seized the chance, smiling: “Stopped? Not quite.”
Everyone turned to him. Si Zhaohua asked urgently: “What? They really took and recruited those people?”
He thought Cyril and Li Xiang wanted to recruit underground humans to boost Black Flash. A group of Ability users would strengthen them, a solid guess.
But Su Bei and Wu Jin, who’d read the records, knew otherwise. Wu Jin denied softly: “Not recruitment.”
He looked at Su Bei: “They took them?”
Su Bei didn’t confirm: “Ask what’s missing.”
This was critical. Black Flash’s focus on underground humans meant trouble if they succeeded. They had to stop it fast.
Wu Jin nodded solemnly: “I’ll tell my dad.”
After he left, the four in the know gathered. To avoid leaking info to others, Jiang Tianming said to Su Bei: “Talk outside?”
“Nothing to say,” Su Bei shook his head. “I saw a research scene.”
He hadn’t gained a future-seeing ability from the forum, but it was a handy excuse.
Research? Everyone’s faces changed. Black Flash was research-driven, and their results were rarely used for good.
If they researched underground humans, beyond the ethical issue, successful results would be bad news.
Since Wu Jin told the principal, it wasn’t their issue. Jiang Tianming’s group were just students, powerless in faction conflicts.
Dropping it, they resumed normal life—school, training, missions. Su Bei used spare time to read Destiny’s records.
Notably, two days after his tip, Destiny got a request asking which underground humans Black Flash took, as no missing persons were found.
After Su Bei answered, he learned Cyril and Li Xiang burned the body storage site before leaving, making the underground think the bodies were destroyed, missing their theft.
Seamless work. Without his cheat, no one would’ve guessed the “burned” bodies were taken.
“Why so many missions lately?” In class, Zhao Xiaoyu slumped, dark circles evident.
Su Bei, also grumpy, said: “Keep this up, and I’m dropping out.”
Others were equally exhausted. Jiang Tianming rubbed his temples: “My Mental Energy can’t recover. It’s full, then another mission hits.”
“How do we protest? Teachers say everyone’s the same,” Wu Mingbai smiled, clearly sarcastic.
Even the usually vibrant Mo Xiaotian was drained: “So tired. Too many missions.”
Their uniform reactions showed it wasn’t whining. S-Class students, strong enough, often took missions, but they weren’t mandatory. They’d do one on weekends for experience and growth.
But two weeks ago, Meng Huai announced that due to frequent Nightmare Beast activity, the Ability world was short-handed. No classes—just missions.
This was fine—Ability users aimed to kill Nightmare Beasts, and missions were training.
The issue was the frequency. In pairs, each got three to five missions daily, mostly low-level Nightmare Beast groups, not hard or dangerous but mentally draining due to sheer volume.
No teleportation arrays helped. After one mission, they rushed to the next via government cars—their only mercy. Without cars, they’d walk miles to a bus stop in the wild.
Half the day was spent traveling, boring and exhausting.
Su Bei wasn’t bored, using travel time to read Destiny’s records, gaining knowledge. A week in, he felt enlightened. No need to memorize—just impressions helped immensely.
But using time well didn’t mean he wasn’t annoyed. He’d joined the academy for an Ability license, then to save the world—a grand job.
Now, he felt like a pitiful worker, endlessly killing Nightmare Beasts. He earned plenty but had no time to spend it. And he wasn’t short on cash!
The teachers weren’t lying—everyone was like this. Second- and third-years were also swamped.
Only first-year non-S-Class students were spared, too weak to kill many Nightmare Beasts. They stayed, self-studying old videos or sparring, as teachers were on missions. Education took a backseat to the crisis.
The intense missions made Su Bei suspicious. Why are there suddenly so many Nightmare Beasts? Why leave their world to cause chaos? It wasn’t like a campaign prelude—Beasts would conserve energy, not stir trouble.
No one was dumb; they noticed. Jiang Tianming looked at Feng Lan’s group, likely to have intel: “Any news? Why are Nightmare Beasts so active?”
“Something’s attracting them,” Si Zhaohua answered.
Feng Lan nodded, confirming: “Heard it from a High-Level Nightmare Beast. They haven’t found it yet.”
Attracting them? Su Bei frowned, considering Black Flash’s new research.
But he dismissed it. It’d been barely a month—too short for major results in manga or reality logic.
Plus, after their last big move, another plot would feel repetitive.
What was attracting the Nightmare Beasts?
As he pondered, his phone rang. Checking it, he rolled his eyes and looked at Lan Subing: “Another mission. Let’s go, we’re paired.”