LSDWTWHA chapter 27

Chapter 26

Even though he slept in late, Su Su still woke up on time when the sun rose the next day. He didn’t feel any fatigue, and his mind was still buzzing with excitement from playing games the night before.

Su Su was eager to continue piloting the starship. However, his starship had already been returned to the system, and Yan Bai would not be online until the evening, so he couldn’t take the starship out to play during the day.

Feeling bored, Su Su finally remembered the long-overdue beginner quests.

Although Yan Bai had given him a lot of star coins, he didn’t need to rely on quests for money at the moment. However, passing the primary job assessment would yield benefits beyond just being able to take on quests. The primary job assessment meant that in the game, players transitioned from being beginners to formal players, gaining access to the complete interstellar map pass. This allowed them to not only engage in activities in the safe defense areas near the space station but also explore farther uninhabited zones and dangerous areas where numerous insectoid activities occurred.

In addition, players could participate as mecha pilots in arenas and join in the ranks of competitions, including periodic starship piloting contests held in the game.

Before yesterday, Su Su had little interest in combat between starships, but after his battle with the “Pirate Leader” last night, the combatant bloodline within him, associated with sharks, was awakened.

He enjoyed the battles in the game, reveling in the thrill brought by combat and the joy following victory without reservation.

The beginner quests were not particularly challenging; they mainly involved familiarizing oneself with operations. By the time lunch rolled around, Su Su had successfully reached the maximum level.

After lunch, Su Su appeared at the starship piloting assessment point located in the space station.

What puzzled Su Su was that all the assessment points for other professions were empty, yet this one was already lined up with a long queue.

When he logged in yesterday, there had not been this many people in line.

Su Su was somewhat confused; although he was more interested in piloting starships himself, he had learned in the last day that the most popular profession in the game was actually mecha operation, followed by mecha modification and repair. Starship piloting was a lesser interest, roughly one out of ten players were into it compared to mecha players.

But today, the place was packed, with many veteran players wanting to switch from mecha operation to starship piloting.

“Strange, why are there so many people today?” Su Su murmured, shaking his round, chubby shark toy as he looked at the seemingly endless line.

“It’s not strange; they are all here to participate in the competition,” a cool voice came from behind Su Su.

Although the voice was clearly processed via voice modulation, the tone resembled that of Qi Hanyi, which instinctively startled Su Su. He felt like a child caught in a bad deed by a guardian, freezing in place with a guilty conscience. Then he realized that there was no way Qi Hanyi could appear in the game. Even if, hypothetically, she did play the game and happened to run into him, she wouldn’t recognize him in his current form.

Su Su breathed a sigh of relief and turned to look at the newcomer.

The person was wearing the standardized astronaut outfit provided by the system upon logging in, even the face was just a template.

The registration time displayed was today, and the level was just thirty, indicating that this was indeed a newcomer here for the assessment.

“What competition?” Su Su asked curiously.

“It’s posted in the system announcements,” the figure pulled up the operation panel and showed Su Su the system announcement updated half an hour ago.

Su Su quickly skimmed through it. The announcement stated that a starship piloting competition would be held in a month.

The top ten not only received substantial prize money, but players of suitable age and willingness could also get the opportunity for direct admission into the Imperial Military Academy for starship piloting. The first place would receive an exclusive skin resembling the Bai Ze starship and have the chance to gain starship piloting guidance from Qi Hanyi herself.

As Su Su read the competition announcement, the person standing next to him was also observing him.

This person was Qi Hanyi, who had just returned to the dormitory from the hospital. He learned from Qi Yue about the video player’s current name, but he also received more detailed information, including that this player was from Freedom Island and their in-game identity was likely fabricated.

Freedom Island was where the previous money transfer, entangled with the insectoids, originated from a mysterious account.

It was a territory beyond the Empire’s control, a place where humans and mermaids coexisted amidst chaos and violence. Countless treasures, sins, desires, and murders were hidden within.

The Empire should have moved early to subdue that land and properly regulate it, but because Freedom Island was closely linked with many of the Empire’s noble families and major merchant guilds, the plan had been indefinitely delayed amid various power struggles.

Perhaps once the threat of insectoids passed, and when the Empire had a more determined and powerful empress, the barren island could be integrated into the Empire’s territories. But for now, the Empire had evidently invested too much energy beyond the stars, leaving the chaotic soil within their jurisdiction largely unattended.

Qi Hanyi did not want to recklessly summon this genius player from Freedom Island using his identity as an admiral. After all, the natives of Freedom Island were generally not fond of the Empire and its military. A hasty summons could likely backfire.

Thus, Qi Hanyi prepared two plans:

First, inform Mo Shan to prepare a competition notification to entice the player with the reward. This reward must be related to the expeditionary force. If the player showed interest in the reward and actively participated in the competition, it would indicate their willingness to join the expeditionary force. When that player succeeded, he could straightforwardly reveal his identity during their meeting, clarify his intentions, and openly discuss.

Second, using the game’s backend permissions, track the player “Bai Lin Sha Sha’s” location. He would enter the game personally to interact with this player, understand their thoughts, and observe their character. To that end, he used backend permissions to set up a new gamer account, just reaching level thirty, to appear at the assessment point alongside “Bai Lin Sha Sha.”

Now “Bai Lin Sha Sha” stood before him, and yet Qi Hanyi found it hard to objectively evaluate this person.

For some unknown reason, looking at the other person shaking their head in line while wearing a shark toy outfit, Qi Hanyi couldn’t help but think of Su Su.

Qi Hanyi thought to himself: It’s absurd that I see a resemblance between a newcomer player and my family’s mermaid shark; I must be going crazy.

As Su Su finished reading the game announcement, he noted the prize for the first place and his eyes lit up: “Wow, this first prize is amazing!”

Qi Hanyi’s thoughts shifted, shaking off the mess in his head, and asked Su Su, “Do you want to participate?”

Su Su nodded with certainty: “Of course! I really love the Bai Ze starship!”

Loving the Bai Ze starship wasn’t a surprising reason. Almost all starship pilots in the Empire liked the Bai Ze, after all, it was not only the most powerful starship of the Empire but also a symbol of its stability.

Qi Hanyi felt relieved; it seemed this newcomer player also had the intention to join the expeditionary force. If he could excel in the competition, it might truly lead to him becoming a colleague fighting alongside Qi Hanyi.

Su Su was unaware of Qi Hanyi’s thoughts. His liking for the Bai Ze starship was simply out of admiration. In the past, he saw it as a companion in the starry skies, but now that he had piloted a starship himself, he occasionally fantasized about what it would be like to pilot the Bai Ze.

Of course, Su Su understood that this could only be a fantasy; he had to sneakily play games on the human’s network, so how could he openly board a human starship?

Su Su had no real concept of his abilities; he wanted to participate in the competition merely to join in the fun. The only reward he truly craved was the skin for the Bai Ze starship. As for confronting Qi Hanyi while under an in-game alias, he wouldn’t dare.

The two of them, with differing thoughts, finished their brief conversation and continued to wait in line.

An hour later, Su Su boarded the special assessment C-level starship. The content of the starship piloting assessment included passing set routes within a time limit, moving target shooting, and emergency response. Su Su completed the required actions with ease; aside from a few minor mistakes in the third assessment item due to unfamiliarity with the C-class starship, he performed perfectly in all other areas and ultimately passed the assessment with a high score of ninety-three.

“I passed! Ninety-three! The supervising system says I’m the best for today!” Su Su gleefully ran out of the assessment room on his short legs. He had just received compliments and was eager to find a place to show off, and among those present, he had only spoken to Qi Hanyi.

“Yeah, you’re quite impressive,” Qi Hanyi said, charmed by the way the toy shark bounced around joyfully, unable to resist giving the shark toy’s round head a gentle rub.

“Thank you, thank you,” Su Su, in a good mood, patted Qi Hanyi on the shoulder: “You keep it up too, buddy!”

With that, he prepared to leave.

Qi Hanyi couldn’t let Su Su leave like that and instinctively stopped him: “Can you wait for me a moment?”

“Huh?” Su Su halted, waiting curiously for Qi Hanyi to provide a reason.

Qi Hanyi was not skilled at actively building relationships. His usually clever brain felt jammed, and after a long pause, he managed to say, “I, uh, I have a test coming up. I’m a bit nervous.”

“Oh.” Su Su took it at face value. Feeling nervous during a test was normal, though he himself had no idea what it felt like. Through human books and media, he understood that humans experienced nervous emotions when facing important issues and found it quite endearing.

“Don’t be nervous. I’ll wait for you at the door to cheer you on. You’ll definitely pass,” Su Su encouraged enthusiastically.

Qi Hanyi nodded awkwardly; being encouraged was an immensely unfamiliar experience for him, especially since he was the one who requested it.

Qi Hanyi felt a rare sense of embarrassment and began to question whether it was too absurd to come into the game to find the next pilot for the Bai Ze.

The profession assessments in the game were easier than the entrance examinations of the Imperial Military Academy. Of course, achieving a high score would still be challenging for players who had never undergone formal training.

However, for Qi Hanyi, it was straightforward.

Qi Hanyi flawlessly completed all operations, performing actions so textbook-perfect that he could be a model. Ultimately, he scored full marks. In the system’s congratulatory tone, he calmly walked out of the examination room.

“How did it go? Did you pass?” Su Su asked worriedly at the door.

“Mm,” Qi Hanyi told a harmless lie: “I got lucky and barely passed.”

“That’s great!” Su Su jumped up as if he was happier than if he had passed himself.

Qi Hanyi’s lips couldn’t help but lift in a smile as well. At the same time, he secretly rejoiced that the players’ assessment scores were not public; otherwise, their friendly little boat might have capsized at that moment.

He inwardly speculated about what “Bai Lin Sha Sha” looked like in reality. He thought they must be a not very old, cheerful, and simple-minded young person.

“I’m heading to the competition registration point.” Su Su prepared to leave, having completed his role as a support.

“I want to see it too.” Qi Hanyi recalled his poor skills and added, “It’s all about participation.”

“Then let’s go together.” Su Su and Qi Hanyi left the assessment point side by side heading towards the livelier competition registration area.

“Do you play games alone?” Qi Hanyi inquired of Su Su.

“A friend brought me; I only started playing because he recommended it,” Su Su replied, subconsciously asking back, “What about you?”

“Just myself,” Qi Hanyi answered.

“Then let’s add each other as friends, and in the future, I’ll take you to play,” Su Su said enthusiastically. Although the tone of the other person’s initial speech reminded him a bit of Qi Hanyi, Su Su was thoroughly reassured now that Qi Hanyi wouldn’t show up in the game to participate in assessments, nor would he barely pass.

But the way this person spoke felt quite similar to Qi Hanyi; they must be a lovely human too… even more lovely than Qi Hanyi, because they got nervous during exams!

Su Su reasoned, opening the friend add page: “What’s your name? I’ll add you.”

Qi Hanyi similarly opened his information page and fell into silence, staring at the randomly generated name: “…”

Right there, it clearly read: [Reckless & Lost Soul]