“Why would trash even take the ATWL… I shouldn’t have agreed to this exam. Boring.”
On the other side of the flag-raising platform, another team in purple uniforms stood. Their chest badges read “Feng Xiao Xiao Xi.” All four members were Italian greyhound-type omegas and alphas: three alphas, one omega. Their tall alpha leader sneered at Bai Chunian. “What’s your team’s name? If we meet later, we won’t fight you—don’t want your team wiped out on day one, that’d be embarrassing.”
Bai Chunian chuckled. “We’ll just mess around.”
Lu Yan stepped forward, positioning Bai Chunian behind him, his rabbit ears bristling. “Who do you think you are? Trash-talking to mess with others before the exam? Orphans with no mothers to deliver you, that’s who. Your team is Feng Xiao Xiao Xi, right? I’ll remember. Don’t get assigned to our zone—I’ll smash your head in.”
Bai Chunian patted the flustered omega’s head. “Lu-ge, calm down.”
The opposing alpha leader, clearly angered, rolled up his sleeves but was restrained by his omega teammate:
“Captain, let’s go.” Her voice was cool and calm.
“When did you get to speak, Xiao Xun?” The alpha shook off her hand and walked down the platform steps.
The greyhound omega was slight and weak; when pushed back by the towering alpha, she stumbled. Bai Chunian reached out and steadied her.
“Thanks,” she murmured, picking up her backpack from the flag platform and rejoining her team. She walked quickly, agile, not the type to slow down a team.
Bai Chunian looked around for Lanbo. The mermaid had already donned the black fitted uniform Bi Lanxing had prepared. He glanced down at his tail, and since there was no space for pants, he had eaten them. He then used his tail tip to manipulate the electric suitcase wheels, running to the self-service check-in machine to collect the team badge.
The acrylic badge popped out of the slot; Lanbo picked it up and stuck it to his chest.
Bai Chunian walked over and read the team name:
“Mess Around.”
Bai Chunian: “Giao, you named it that?”
Lanbo pointed to the voice bar on the screen. When he collected the badge, the machine requested a voice input for the team name. Bai Chunian had happened to say “We’ll just mess around,” and the system automatically registered the first four characters.
Lu Yan, adjusting his uniform, came over to pick up his badge and casually asked, “What’s our team name?”
Bai Chunian hid the badge behind his back. “Uh…”
The ATWL exam venue was vast, divided into ten zones labeled with Greek letters.
Entrance security was extremely strict and cumbersome. Everyone underwent full-body scans to check for embedded metallic weapons, followed by blood tests to confirm no stimulants or gland-supplying drugs had been administered.
Bai Chunian’s four-person squad was randomly assigned to Zone Ten. Invigilators fitted them with augmented-reality contact lenses and guided each into a small, booth-like enclosure.
Opening his eyes again, Bai Chunian realized he was in a strange bedroom. He squatted to feel the wooden floor beneath his feet—definitely wood.
The room had a full-length mirror. He looked at his black tactical uniform in the reflection, then at his hands—nothing seemed unusual.
He tried removing the contact lens; the moment it came out, everything around him returned to normal—the same small booth setup he had entered earlier.
Suddenly, a red light flashed in his booth, and a shrill alarm summoned an invigilator. Impatient, the staff handed him a new contact lens, sternly warning that any further rule-breaking would be treated as exam disruption.
Once the lens was back in place, Bai Chunian returned to the virtual bedroom he had just seen.
“Ah?” he muttered, staring at his hands and clenching his fists. “I… tangible VR? This exam is that advanced?”
He walked a few steps—from the bedroom to the balcony, then to the living room, sitting on the soft sofa and cold floor. Everything felt just like the real world.
Examining himself in the mirror, he saw that his black uniform not only bore the acrylic “Mess Around” badge but also a belt with ten metal slots and a 20-centimeter rubber tube on his chest filled with red liquid.
Bai Chunian opened the window to survey the surroundings. He was in a typical residential complex, identical apartment blocks all around. Women hung laundry on balconies; below, elderly ladies chatted while walking dogs.
Clearly, this exam didn’t just simulate a battlefield—it faithfully replicated real-world conditions. Causing harm to these civilians would likely incur penalties.
Interesting.
Bai Chunian didn’t rush outside. Instead, he searched each corner, finding a map in the TV cabinet and a small circular button-like device.
“Hello, examinee!”
The sudden electronic voice startled Bai Chunian. He looked up at the ceiling speaker.
“Welcome to the Advanced Team Combat Level Exam. The following are the exam rules—”
“You have been assigned the map ‘City’. The exam duration is 48 hours. Do not remove the simulated contact lenses during the exam, or you will be considered withdrawn.”
“The red liquid strip on your chest indicates simulated health. Damage is calculated by the system. When the health bar reaches zero, the examinee is immediately eliminated. Ammunition boxes placed throughout the map contain recovery syringes to prevent examinees with regenerative differentiation abilities from abusing them to manipulate the exam’s fairness.”
“To prevent passive evasion, each examinee’s waist is fitted with a bomb belt. Every hour, one anti-explosion module will automatically detach. Once all modules are removed, the belt will detonate, resulting in immediate elimination.”
“Each examinee must complete three random tasks. Surviving the full 48 hours awards three stars. For a four-person squad, only one member needs to survive for the entire team to be considered surviving. Successfully completing each individual task adds one personal star. If all squad members survive with full strength, each receives one extra star. Additionally, defeating ten opposing examinees adds one star to the score.”
Bai Chunian calculated as he listened: surviving alone gives three stars, completing three tasks adds three more, and if the whole team survives, that’s another star—so even without fighting anyone, the maximum score is seven stars. According to Uncle Jin’s plan, the little rabbit should get five or six stars, enough to look competent but not standout.
“A task sheet is in each examinee’s room. The back of the sheet contains the City map, showing the locations of fixed ammo boxes, which randomly contain firearms, melee weapons, recovery syringes, and anti-explosion modules.”
“An anti-explosion module is also in your room. Install it in your belt slot within ten minutes, or the belt will self-detonate, causing immediate elimination.”
“The exam begins.”
Bai Chunian pressed the round metal button into the slot on his belt. The buckle lit up, showing a one-hour countdown.
“Tch, this is making me a bit nervous…” he muttered, rubbing his hands. The exam sounded tricky; he needed to find his teammates fast, or they might all die.
He didn’t leave through the door. Kicking the window bars aside, he gripped the top edge of the frame and, relying on his arm strength alone, climbed onto the awning, scaled the drainpipe, and reached the rooftop. From there, he could see the city below.
Sure enough, his teammates weren’t far away. Bai Chunian quickly spotted Lanbo.
It was obvious Lanbo hadn’t been listening to the broadcast; he was splashing water with his tail in a fountain pool. Bai Chunian’s sharp eyes caught a black shadow flitting outside the flower bed: two alphas in red uniforms, badges reading ‘Death Row’, each wielding a tactical knife, approaching Lanbo with clear intent to ambush. Everyone wanted the kill points.
The knife blades glinted. Coordinating from left and right, one aimed for Lanbo’s lower abdomen while the other struck from behind, attempting a lethal choke.
Water transmitted the vibrations of their steps. Sensing the danger, Lanbo leapt from the water instinctively, his translucent blue tail crackling with electricity.
“Fish…? A mermaid?!”
Lanbo dove from above, landing with one hand clutching the alpha’s collar. His slender fingers sank into flesh, swinging his body upward with momentum. His thin forearm snapped the alpha’s neck from behind.
The alpha’s health bar immediately dropped to zero. Lanbo grabbed the tactical knife from the body, coiling his tail around the second alpha’s neck and flinging him high. The alpha screamed, helpless in the air, then fell as Lanbo’s knife pierced his spine. The second health bar instantly drained to zero.
Lanbo tucked his wet golden hair behind his ears and tossed the bloody knife, once, twice. The digital counter on his black combat suit jumped from “0” to “2.”
The city-wide broadcast followed:
“[Mess Around] Lanbo eliminated [Death Row] Zheng Jiu.”
“[Mess Around] Lanbo eliminated [Death Row] Mo Fei.”