Chapter 66: The Monster No Longer Focuses on Physical Strength, but Turns to Scientific Research

Monday morning, Zhou Shu entered the school with the ranks of the day students.

Originally, as a boarding student, he should have returned on Sunday afternoon, but due to special circumstances, he came in on Monday morning instead.

The moment his roommates saw him, they immediately sensed something was different.

Not only was he without his glasses, but he also looked more energetic, and it seemed—just slightly—as if he’d gotten taller.

Perhaps it was an illusion, but although his weight hadn’t changed, he somehow seemed sturdier than last week, and even his school uniform fit him with a new sense of style.

“Wow, Zhou, a day apart feels like three autumns—two days apart, and you look like a whole new person!”

“Get lost, I know which word you’re playing with.”

“Heh, Zhou, did you switch to contacts? Not bad, at least you’re not dragging down our dorm’s looks anymore.”

“Keep rolling, you guys together still aren’t as handsome as me.”

It had to be said, bantering with his beloved roommates put him at ease.

So much had happened in these past few days, continually upending his worldview, leaving him sighing that the world had changed. But seeing his roommates as ridiculous as ever reassured him.

The underlying tone of the world remained the same.

A new week began, and it was time to check the results of their previous art school entrance exams.

With a nervous heart, Zhou Shu logged onto the Imperial Technological University website, entered his information and password, and his score popped up almost immediately.

“I did it!”

Even though he now possessed the technology for powered exoskeletons, Imperial Tech was still crucial to him. It was known as the “cradle of academicians,” and the conveniences it offered were beyond compare.

For instance, students at Imperial Tech could apply to use nuclear fuel for experiments—something no other school permitted.

This “application privilege” wasn’t limited to some renowned professor applying on behalf of a research group. Any student, if their project warranted it, could apply for nuclear fuel for experiments.

He believed he’d obtain even more advanced technology in the future and would need to conduct more cutting-edge experiments. Merely having application rights didn’t always guarantee access to materials; often, there was a long queue.

But if he were at Imperial Tech, backed by its name, the restrictions would be far fewer.

Classmates, hearing his cheer, flocked over to take a look.

“Damn, you made it by one point—what kind of luck is that?!”

“Passed the Imperial Tech exam—amazing!”

“Now it’s just down to the academic exams, right? Zhou Shu should be fine. Good luck!”

“This time you can really go for it.”

Amid the exclamations and well wishes of his friends, Zhou Shu remained as calm as ever.

What he feared least now was the academic test; he was even considering whether he could become the top liberal arts scorer in Jizhou.

Afterward, classes began, and after three days’ absence, their homeroom teacher finally reappeared.

Honestly, though she was strict, the students had found themselves missing her after a few days away.

“All right, enough chatting. I’m perfectly fine. Now, everyone take out last week’s test paper. Time to review.”

“Anyone want to discuss the approach to question one? No volunteers? Fine, I’ll call someone.”

“Wang Shuguang, stand up and explain. It’s okay if you get it wrong.”

“…”

Well, any nostalgia evaporated the moment class began.

The day passed quickly. Even though Zhou Shu and his homeroom teacher were now, in a sense, “colleagues,” their interactions at school didn’t change—they were just as minimal as before.

It was only at dismissal that his teacher messaged him via smart watch, informing him that his request for day student status had been approved, and told him to meet her at the parking lot after school—they’d go to the Demon Suppression Division together.

With the approval in hand, Zhou Shu told his roommates about his new arrangement. They completely understood; with so much pressure, taking a break was better than pushing himself to the point of hurting his grades.

They still remembered the time Zhou Shu smashed up the restroom.

No one knew exactly what kind of arrangement he’d made, but his bed was still reserved; he could return to the dorms anytime.

After school, Zhou Shu waited for his teacher in the parking lot, backpack slung over his shoulder. He’d already been to the Demon Suppression Division several times, and each time, whether going or coming, he was provided with transport—and always by an official “Mighty” class warrior.

It seemed there was a hint of protection behind this.

By now, probably few people in the Dongyuan City Demon Suppression Division were more formidable than his teacher.

After a few minutes, she arrived and told him directly, “Get in.”

“Okay.”

With his teacher, Zhou Shu was always obedient.

Her car sped along, and it seemed to be a highly intelligent model, as she often let go of the steering wheel to operate her smart watch.

She didn’t seem worried about traffic cameras at all.

Zhou Shu, watching from the passenger seat, noticed her sighing and asked, “Teacher, what’s wrong?”

“One of my squad members was injured.”

Injured? The word sounded familiar—ever since he’d entered this “inner world,” he’d seen several warriors get hurt.

That support mission he’d stumbled into had left two wounded; yesterday, three trainees were injured, and now his teacher spoke of another.

And that was just what he’d seen or heard of—how many more incidents escaped his notice?

Thinking it over, this was somewhat different from his earlier expectations.

So he asked, curious, “Teacher, is the casualty rate for front-line Demon Suppression Division personnel really that high?”

“Very high. If the data were made public, the Demon Suppression Division would certainly have the highest casualty rate, and it’s only been rising in recent years.”

Liu Feiyan glanced at Zhou Shu. “Honestly, as your teacher, I don’t want you joining the Division. You’re still a student; your main task is to study. The Division is too dangerous for you.”

Hearing this, Zhou Shu, though he had his own reasons, felt a bit embarrassed. “Uh, I’m just a trainee in the Division, and I’m a remote specialist. It shouldn’t be too dangerous.”

“I know. I’ve read your file—you’re a rare combat talent in recent times. Since you’ve joined, do your best.”

Liu Feiyan turned her gaze to the road ahead, the city’s quiet prosperity unfolding before them.

“The country and its people truly need you. I hope you can protect our nation, and yourself as well. Rid the world of monsters and demons as much as you can.”

She turned forward. Zhou Shu couldn’t read her emotions, but her words left him silent, and he nodded, “I understand, teacher.”

No more words passed between them. From his teacher, Zhou Shu sensed a different kind of presence.

Reality was indeed different from his expectations.

Humanity had not been wiped out by the monster civilization; Exorcists could eliminate mutants on their own, four-person tactical squads could handle a single mutant, and the kind he’d encountered last night might even be dealt with by just two elite warriors. But that didn’t mean the human side suffered no casualties, or that losses weren’t heavy.

The seeming peace and prosperity on the surface were sustained by warriors whose sacrifices would never be known to the general public—sometimes bought with their lives.

Thinking of the exoskeleton prototype at the Demon Suppression Division and the technology he now possessed, Zhou Shu felt a renewed urgency to put his plans into action.

Upon arriving at the Division, Liu Feiyan dropped him off and hurried away—another mission awaited.

Once again, Zhou Shu met Karen Wang, who seemed to be in charge of the new trainees. This time, however, Karen said little, handing Zhou Shu over to an assistant, who led him to supplementary lessons.

He needed to catch up on knowledge every Exorcist trainee should possess.

Unlike the other trainees, Zhou Shu’s “brightness” level had reached 115 as soon as he joined, and his actions in the early-morning operation showed how different he was.

All three other trainees had been “taken out,” but he alone finished off all the mutants.

He had relied on firearms, true, but it was still the wielder who mattered.

If he couldn’t hit the target, then even a firearm with a destructive power of ten thousand was useless.

Nuclear weapons, of course, were the exception.

From the assistant, Zhou Shu learned the history of human combat against monsters.

There had been times when monsters gained the upper hand; other times, humanity prevailed. It was a tug-of-war, the spiral of history winding ever upward.

In the space of a century or so, humanity’s technology had advanced; firearms had grown more powerful, forcing monsters into retreat. Yet in recent years, monsters had ceased to rely on brute force alone—they, too, had begun to study technology.

The “evolution” pills were one such outcome.

PS: Thank you, dsbghost, for the reward.