Why were numbers dropping so fast?
The candidates in this simulated exercise were physically elite. With energy bars for sustenance, the first day should have been their peak performance period. As supplies dwindled, stamina would wane, prompting many to frantically amass points early on. In their fervor, some paid the ultimate price.
Baisha pondered, then turned to Yaning. "You didn't explore the mountains much. Besides the mutated wolves, did you encounter other creatures?"
Yaning shook his head. "After grabbing an armory crate, we were ambushed by four wolves. Dealing with them ate up all our time, so we couldn't thoroughly scout the mountains. From our experience, the wolf pack was the fiercest thing we faced."
Suddenly, everyone's wrist communicators lit up:
"New rule announcement."
"Fifty candidates are designated 'Predators.' Predators cannot earn points by killing creatures, only by stealing points from other candidates. All fifty Predator identities are now active."
"Point trading is now permitted. Candidates may freely exchange points, with one trade per day per trading partner."
Fifty Predators!
And point trading? No one had mentioned this before.
"This must be the exercise's hidden rule," Baisha mused, stroking her chin. Homan had warned them that simulation rules could shift randomly, making the field unpredictable.
A new identity—Predator—had emerged among the candidates.
To counter Predator ambushes, grouping up was the best defense. In a crowd, Predators hesitated to strike, risking exposure and retaliation. Sticking with a large group reduced the chance of being targeted.
Sure enough, someone shouted, "We should team up with more people! Predators are outnumbered five to one—they won't dare face us head-on!"
No one would admit to being a Predator in this setting.
But grouping was the obvious choice for most.
"I find the point-trading rule intriguing," Baisha said. "No rest for us tonight, folks. We're heading to the canyon zone immediately."
The jungle, their best hunting ground, had been scoured with Zhao Jing's team, leaving no big prey. And "free trading" implied points weren't swapped for kills but for resources—weapons, food, water.
The canyon zone had a steady water source.
Whoever controlled it held a fountain of points.
"Are we claiming the water source?" someone asked eagerly, envisioning a point-gushing monopoly.
"We're not seizing it—how could we?" Yaning interjected, waving a hand. "A blatant water source like that? Stationing everyone to guard it leaves us spread thin, unable to hunt or fend off thieves. The water's crucial, but swallowing it whole is beyond us."
"We'll try our luck in the canyon," Baisha said, slinging a kinetic rifle over her shoulder. Their armory was too limited to arm everyone, but her marksmanship was undisputed—no one questioned her choice. "If we meet Zhao Jing's crew, we can negotiate cooperation. If it's empty, we wash up, rest, and set camp in a strong position."
The canyon, sparse in mutated prey, was ideal for camping.
But camp placement was strategic. Too exposed, and they'd be sitting ducks, visible to all with no cover. Too deep in the canyon, and they'd be trapped, easy to blockade—though also defensible. With only two days left, long-term flaws were less critical. The canyon's deep stone beach was the best rest spot.
Who'd waste time blockading them?
Well, except Predators.
So, stick together, deny Predators openings, and they'd be fine.
Before moving, Baisha loaded her rifle and addressed her team. "For the sake of our shared battles, any Predators among us, step forward and leave. I'll let you go without a fight here. But if we meet later, I can't promise restraint."
A heavy silence fell.
After a long pause, a lean, quiet boy stepped out. Baisha recalled his bravery against the python.
"Weapons are strategic assets, so you can't keep yours," she said lightly. "But take a bamboo tube from the jungle with some water, and my three energy bars. Good luck surviving the exam."
Her team had already earned hefty points under her lead. As a Predator, the boy could hide and still score decently—better than zero from elimination.
"Thanks," he mumbled, embarrassed.
"Hey, it's a random role—not your fault," Baisha said breezily. "Outside this field, we're all Federation cadets. Comrades' honor still holds."
He nodded, took the supplies, and left without looking back.
"Anyone else confessing?" Baisha asked, smiling at the rest. No one moved. "Good. To the canyon!"
Night didn't slow them. Half an hour later, they reached the canyon.
As expected, it was bustling. En route, they passed two ragged, injured teams of four or five, who glanced at Baisha's group and hurried away without a word.
At the stone beach, two bright lights glowed—someone stood by the stream with a lamp.
It was Zhao Yi.
He lounged on a boulder, flanked by two stoic noble heirs with rifles. Spotting Baisha, he sprang up, grinning warmly. "Hey, it's you guys!"
Baisha eyed the setup. "What's this?"
"No worries, we're not hogging the water," Zhao Yi said. "Claiming it now would make us everyone's target. We're just camping here, cleaning up the area. We just drove off some teams ambushing for robberies."
He flashed a toothy grin. "Made them pay a ransom, too."
Of course, he'd confirmed they were regular robbers, not Predators, before letting them go. Predators and regular candidates were now rival factions, and Zhao Yi didn't want to thin their numbers too much.
The "ransom" was a mere fifty points—a steal for survival.
"We're camping here, too," Baisha said. Their daytime teamwork eased the conversation. "Mind if we squeeze in? More people, more safety."
"Fine by me," Zhao Yi nodded. "Hang on, I'll check with my cousin."
Soon, he returned with approval.
Baisha's team settled on the beach. She quietly cautioned them: despite neighboring Zhao Jing's crew, trust was thin.
Who knew if Predators lurked in Zhao's ranks, waiting to pounce?
But her team's firepower and weapons meant Zhao wouldn't gain much in a clash.
The canyon entrance lacked abundant water, but shallow, clear puddles sufficed. The team drank, washed, and relaxed, their day-long tension easing.
Jingyi finally scrubbed off her snake blood—Yaning had teased her relentlessly.
The stream washed away the sticky stench, revealing her fair features. She tidied her long black hair, sighing at her reflection.
Baisha sat beside her, concerned. "Tired?"
"I'm okay," Jingyi said. "Drink some water. You barely ate today."
Baisha had skipped the jungle's half-raw meals, surviving on banana tree and bamboo juice. While the team rested, she'd used her mental strength to monitor for ambushes. Leading, shooting, and commanding had drained her, too.
Jingyi handed Baisha her energy bar.
Unlike picky Yaning, Jingyi had eaten the gruesome kills unfazed, leaving Zhao Yi traumatized—blood-smeared, ferocious, devouring raw meat without flinching. A true force.
She'd saved her initial rations.
Since Baisha gave hers to the departing boy, Jingyi shared.
Baisha accepted, snapping the bar in half to share. Yaning, fresh from building a fire, approached with roasted wolf meat, pausing. "You're eating without waiting for my masterpiece?"
Baisha eyed the meat, surprised—it looked decent.
"When'd you learn to cook?" she asked.
Yaning smirked. "No kitchen at the orphanage to show off. But don't get your hopes up—it's just well-cooked. No salt, so it won't be gourmet."
"Beats what we ate today," Baisha sighed. "Thanks."
Night fell, the temperature dropping. The trio huddled for warmth—Yaning on the left, Jingyi on the right, Baisha in the middle.
"Seriously," Baisha said, voice low, "it's just us. Speak freely. What are your roles?"
Yaning and Jingyi froze, exchanging hesitant glances.
Yaning/Jingyi: "…Predator."
Baisha: "…I knew it. You've been off since the new rules dropped. So I'm the only regular one?"
Others might miss their subtle shifts, but Baisha, bonded with them for years, couldn't. They were family.
Baisha frowned. "What's your plan?"
"Protect you," Jingyi said firmly. "Predators have an internal leaderboard showing everyone's points. You're second, Zhao Jing's first. His team dominates the top twenty. Our team ranks high, too."
This was an exercise, but human dynamics played out. Most knew the Zhao family's clout and avoided targeting Zhao Jing.
Baisha was the next obvious mark.
But her double S-grade made her a tough target, and as team leader, Predators hesitated. It was only day one—rankings would shift, and they could bide their time.
Except Zhao Jing's crew, Baisha's team was the field's juiciest "sheep."
Baisha licked her lips, whispering, "Does your leaderboard show your own names?"
Yaning and Jingyi nodded, startled.
"If you hunt tomorrow and your points don't budge…"
It'd expose them as Predators.
The system tipped Predators off. Sharp ones could spot allies and band together.
"Let's rest," Baisha said. "We'll adapt tomorrow."
The team set watch rotations and slept fitfully on the beach.
Morning came, and everyone was groggy, aching from the rough ground. The trio, tougher than Capital Star's pampered kids, still felt it—orphanage life hadn't been this harsh.
The stream was now crowded; the canyon had become a major hub overnight.
Zhao Yi still patrolled the entrance, now with new faces—fresh recruits.
Baisha's team debated, opting to try the mountains for more wolves. They'd brought empty bamboo tubes from the jungle, tied with vine ropes, giving them enough water to brave the desert, too.
Initially, no one dared the desert. Even now, going solo took guts. But it might hide untapped mutated creatures.
"The desert's teeming with mutants," Baisha said. "The canyon's a teacher-set safe zone. The desert's unlikely to be barren."
Half the zones lacking creatures would defeat the exam's purpose.
They split up: Yaning led six to the mountains; the rest followed Baisha to the desert, ready to pivot to the mountains if it was empty.
In the desert, scorching heat and swirling sand hit them. A few hundred meters in, sweat beaded on their foreheads and necks.
Baisha pushed for speed.
Her boots sank into soft sand. She halted, shouting, "Alert!"
Her team raised rifles, sights locked.
"Three o'clock, eight o'clock—open fire!"
Bullets rained on gentle dunes.
Buzz—
A seven-meter black centipede erupted from the sand, bullets grazing its head and tail but barely scratching its spiked, furry-scaled armor. Countless legs surged, its massive shadow riding a sandy wave toward them.
"Star-beast? Why's a star-beast here—"
The sight was horrific, but Baisha and Jingyi had faced these in chip training. Even without mechs, they knew its traits.
Jingyi, wielding a straight blade from the armory, charged unfazed. The beast snapped its mandibles, but she vaulted onto its body with impossible grace, channeling her strength into a slash that severed its ring of white fangs.
Baisha raised the sniper cannon, a fist-sized laser bolt blasting out. Her shoulder rocked from recoil, but the shot pierced the beast's mandibles with lethal precision.
A thunderous explosion sprayed blood and gore.
Jingyi, closest, was drenched in foul ichor again.
She closed her eyes, resigned.
Baisha chuckled dryly. "…Sorry."
In moments, they'd felled it.
Her team gaped, weapons idle, feeling redundant.
Their bullets had hit, earning them points.
Jingyi, clutching her blade, rarely struck again. Baisha led the team to kill another star-beast and several desert lizards.
No one griped about Jingyi's inaction—Predators earned no points from kills.
"Her blade hasn't budged. Is she that grossed out by star-beast blood?"
"It's not just mutants—star-beast blood reeks. I smell it from here…"
"She's terrifying! Her face looks murderous!"
"You can read her expression through that? You're a legend."
Hours later, they racked up points, but the desert's beasts were fiercer. Two teammates were injured, their water spent on wounds. Even with Baisha's warnings, fights were grueling.
Exhausted, they left the desert at the hottest hour.
Back at camp, the stream was mobbed, unprecedentedly lively.
"It hurts! Please, painkillers—ahh—"
Baisha pushed through, spotting a student on the beach, his bloodied pant leg torn, a bone-deep gash exposed. Pale and sweating, he groaned as onlookers watched in silence, some tight-lipped, others looking away.
"What happened?" Baisha asked a teammate in the front row.
"He's a Predator!" the teammate fumed. "We were hunting wolves in the mountains when he and another guy offered to guide us to a den, claiming terrain knowledge. We agreed. Mid-hunt, they turned on us! In the chaos, his partner was mauled and eliminated. This guy begged to follow us back, offering 500 points for medicine."
His injury, moderate, could be stabilized with drugs, bandages, and splints to last another day. With many eliminated, every hour boosted admission odds.
Baisha glanced at Yaning. "What's the deal?"
"I said he should quit," Yaning said, exasperated. "But others thought 500 points for medicine was fair."
"Then what's the holdup?" Baisha asked.
"He won't pay!" the teammate snapped. "We dragged him to safety, and now he's stalling."
"Please, just some medicine," the injured student sobbed. "I don't have many points. I need to get into an academy—my family's counting on me. I applied to a bottom-tier one, not your picks! You'd let me die?"
The teammate sneered. "Don't guilt-trip us. No medicine? Find an armory or quit. Right, Yaning?"
The pale student, desperate, crawled toward Baisha. "I'm useful! I'm a Predator—I see the point leaderboard. I can spot others like me. Yaning Kelly—he's a Predator! His name was high-ranked, he killed wolves, but his points haven't moved all day!"
The crowd erupted.
"Predators see the leaderboard?"
"Yaning Kelly's a Predator—"
Baisha's team stared, disbelief turning to suspicion.
"Yaning, is he telling the truth?" a teammate demanded.
Yaning stood frozen, lips tight.
"It's true!" the injured student pressed. "A Predator hiding among you—what's he planning?"
"Shut up," Baisha snapped, kicking him lightly. He yelped. "A backstabbing Predator like you dares accuse my teammate? Only you see the leaderboard—so we take your word? Maybe it's fake. My teammate's honorable—compared to you, who's more trustworthy?"
Doubtful gazes shifted.
"…He's telling the truth," Zhao Yi said, stepping through the crowd, expression grim. "It matches intel we got from Predators. They see the leaderboard."
Baisha looked up, eyeing Zhao Yi. "When did you talk to Predators?"
"Today, hunting," Zhao Yi said, smiling innocently. "We extracted info, then 'escorted' them out."
Baisha went silent.
"No need to spare Predators," Zhao Yi said smoothly, his noble poise shining. "The teachers designed this rule to toughen us. As soldiers, we'll face battle. This isn't life-or-death, but Predators are our natural enemies—like humans and star-beasts, or the Federation and Empire. When interests clash, mercy and hesitation don't win."
Many teams had been ambushed by Predators, leaving them battered. Zhao Jing's team lost the most—unsurprising, as they'd maintained camp order, swelling their numbers and losses. Zhao Yi had standing to speak.
His words hardened the camp's resolve.
"Predators are our enemies."
"Predators, out of our camp!"
"Out!"
Baisha's teammates, caught in the uproar, turned to her. "Baisha, you're our leader, so we defer to you. But you can't shield Yaning Kelly, or we'll all feel uneasy."
Baisha didn't waver, sneering. Jingyi slowly drew her blade, its cold edge glinting against her face, making the speakers flinch back.
"I know what you're thinking," Zhao Yi whispered to Baisha. "Don't leave with Yaning. Predators outside have teamed up. If they spot you, Jingyi, and Yaning alone, what do you think happens?"
Baisha smirked. "You know an awful lot."
Zhao Yi stuck out his tongue playfully.
As they faced off, Yaning spoke. "Fine, I'll leave."
He smiled at the injured student. "I'll take this guy with me."
"You don't want to dirty your hands, so I will."
Yaning hoisted the panicked student, who thrashed. Baisha and Jingyi stepped forward, but Yaning's glance stopped them.
His eyes flicked to Zhao Yi, then he left, carrying the struggling student.
The crowd dispersed, issue resolved.
Baisha's team was quiet, faces dour. Yaning's exit left a rift in their once-tight unit. Some tried to speak to Baisha but fell silent.
They camped that night.
Zhao Yi approached Baisha, saying Zhao Jing wanted to meet privately to discuss desert creatures, offering points for intel.
Baisha agreed—surrounded by eyes, Zhao couldn't try anything.
Jingyi, returning with water, saw Baisha leaving and moved to follow, but Zhao Yi blocked her.
"Hey, Jingyi, hold up."
She glared, blade half-drawn. "This better be good."
Zhao Yi's mouth twitched, but he pressed on. "Hear me out."
"…I know you're a Predator, too, right?"
Jingyi's eyes narrowed, blade flashing.
"What's your game?" she hissed. "Shout, and before I'm exiled, I'll take your points."
"I know your strength," Zhao Yi said, voice low. "I'm not ousting you. But as a Predator, you've wasted a day trailing Baisha. You've seen your rank plummet, haven't you?"
"You've talked to Predators—or you're one," Jingyi deduced. "How else would you know?" She checked Zhao Jing and Yi's points—still top five. Recalling their team's high losses, she froze. "You—"
Zhao Jing and Yi had split up today. What were they doing?
Zhao Yi gave a cryptic smile.
"Regular or Predator, the Zhao family rules this game."
Jingyi, wary, asked, "What do you want?"
"We want Baisha," Zhao Yi said. "Not her points—we want her on our side. Say, joining us at Saint Cyr."
Jingyi stared, incredulous.
"Don't get the wrong idea!" Zhao Yi laughed. "Her double S-grade and mech skills are gold. Saint Cyr rivals Central. The Zhao family's top-tier in Capital Star. With us, Baisha's mech research would thrive. And you…"
"Jingyi, stop shadowing Baisha. I pity you. Your combat skills match anyone's. S-grade or not, you're top-academy material—if you stop trailing her. You're a Predator—you thrive on combat points. Your score's decent now, but by the end? Can you shine? Secure a top academy?"
"Don't live for others. Yaning's your warning. His Predator role exposed, what could Baisha do? She watched him get cast out."
"Join us. The better path."
"…We guarantee Saint Cyr's doors open for you."
Zhao Yi's voice, mingling with the stream's murmur, was persuasive.
Jingyi's dark eyes studied him, then she spoke. "What do you need me to do?"
"Simple," Zhao Yi said, relieved, smiling confidently. "Put Baisha in a bind."
"Desperate people accept our offers. Like you."
The final day.
Jingyi, feeling off, stayed at camp.
As a Predator, hunting earned her nothing.
Baisha led her remaining team, joining Zhao Jing's for a large desert expedition.
Zhao Jing, usually reserved, was ruthless, slaying star-beasts and mutants with precision.
The teams advanced, reaping kills.
Nearing a dead tree grove, Baisha frowned at distant yellow hills, about to speak when—boom—capture rounds arced skyward. Massive nets bloomed, descending.
"Scatter!" Baisha fired three shots, shredding the nets' frames, but some were trapped.
A dozen figures emerged from the trees and hills, armed, eyes locked on Baisha's group.
Unseen Predators, avoiding the camp.
Baisha turned to Zhao Jing for aid, but he and his team stood atop a dune, unmoved, pristine.
"Zhao Jing, what's this?" Baisha demanded.
"Nothing," he said coolly. "I'm here to recruit talent."
"Join the Zhao family and enroll at Saint Cyr, and I swear we'll back you to become a legendary double S-grade mech pilot." His emotionless eyes sized her up like merchandise. "But if you refuse—"
He raised his rifle, aiming at her.
Zhao Jing was a Predator.
And linked to outside Predators.
Baisha scanned the enemy—some weapons matched Zhao's first-day armory haul.
"To Baisha's teammates, I've no interest in you," Zhao Jing barked. "But those Predators nearby do. Leave now, or…"
Before he finished, Baisha's unnetted teammates reacted. Two bolted after a pause, dropping weapons when stopped. "Cowards! Leave the gear!"
They fled, two Predators in pursuit.
Baisha had seven or eight teammates left, gripping rifles, facing Zhao Jing. "Clever, Zhao. Playing both sides? Got any loyalty, or just pure cunning?"
Zhao recognized the speaker, a minor noble heir. "Bi Yuehong, I know your brother. Don't cross me."
"Pah!" Bi Yuehong spat, furious. "You treat everyone as pawns to break records at Saint Cyr, outshining that Zhou guy, right? Think you're the only one with dreams? Stepping on others—you call that fair?"
Zhao's mask cracked, teeth grinding. "You're spouting nonsense!"
"Where's the lie?" Bi Yuehong taunted. "Jealous of Zhou Yue since childhood, stealing your spotlight. He's double S-grade, you're single S-grade. Even as mech pilots, can you match him? He's killed hordes of star-beasts on the frontlines! Dreaming of breaking his record—delusional!"
Bi's wild verbal assault hit its mark.
Zhao lost his cool, abandoning recruitment to attack.
Gunfire erupted.
Baisha caught a familiar name in their exchange, her interest piqued. Zhao's team, plus the new Predators—over thirty—unleashed a hail of bullets.
Baisha's team dodged, only to find—nothing. A soft blue barrier unfurled before them, deflecting every shot.
Mental strength manifestation!
They gaped at Baisha, who said lazily, "I didn't want to push my mental strength this far in an exam—given our grade gaps, it's near cheating. But you've cornered me, so don't cry foul."
"Better find more armories for armor-piercing rounds," she taunted. "Otherwise, you'll shoot for hours, and I won't break a sweat."
Zhao's face flickered between fury and fear.
"Alright, comrades," Baisha said, pointing at the dune-bound foes. "Let's get 'em!"
Her team, elated, fired with newfound confidence.
Baisha moved, her team following. Zhao shouted, "Retreat! Retreat!"
A stray shot into her barrier could trap them.
Zhao's crew fled chaotically. A few clueless Predators entered Baisha's range, dropping fast, yelling for rescue:
"What the hell! This is absurd!"
"Why let a double S-grade compete with us? No fair!"
Candidates grumbled.
Baisha chased Zhao leisurely for 200 meters. Another group appeared ahead, sparking hope in Zhao—until he saw them, and his face fell.
Yaning, Jingyi, the injured student, and unfamiliar faces—likely Predators.
They dragged a bound Zhao Yi.
"Cousin, we're done," Zhao Yi groaned. "Yaning Kelly and some Predators hit the camp, spilling your Predator alliances."
Zhao's vision darkened.
He glared at the Predators. "What are you doing?"
"You've got nerve asking us!" one snapped. "You promised us easy points, but you and your crew took most of the kills from your traps. We got scraps. You trusted us to die for you?"
"Exactly," another added. "Arrogant noble, looking down on everyone. A Predator yourself, yet you hogged the water, keeping us from camp. Kelly's more honorable—he saved our injured teammate. What's your excuse?"
With Yaning, Jingyi, and the Predators, the tide turned.
The Zhao brothers and their crew were rounded up like skewered meat.
Baisha's team caught their breath. Bi Yuehong spat at the brothers, snarling, "Serves you right."
Baisha dropped her barrier, sidling up to Yaning, half-annoyed. "How'd you recruit them?"
Yaning scratched his nose. "My points, obviously."
Predators were desperados.
Desperados moved for profit.
With points, they'd betray anyone.
Yaning saw clearer than Zhao. He'd coordinated with Jingyi, striking the camp and dismantling Zhao's network.
Post-battle, the Predators divvied up spoils.
"Our promised points—pay up? These small fries are ours," their leader said, sheepish. "The Zhaos… we don't dare touch."
They balked at eliminating nobles.
Bi Yuehong huffed. "Shame I'm not a Predator—I'd do it myself."
Jingyi, blade in hand, nodded approvingly, then slashed Zhao Yi's communicator.
Zhao Yi was out, his points to Jingyi.
"Any last words?" Zhao Yi asked, ashen. "Cousin, when Dad thrashes me, back me up. I did this for you—I'll plead for you when Uncle swings."
Zhao Jing turned away, face purple.
"He's yours," Jingyi said to Yaning.
Yaning claimed Zhao Jing's points, fulfilling promises to the Predators.
As teachers hauled Zhao Jing away, he growled, "You'll pay."
Baisha waved dismissively. "We'll wait at Central Military Academy. You'll need another year to retake the exam. Call us 'senior' when we meet. Oh, you're for Saint Cyr?"
She gave a cold smirk. "Saint Cyr cadets can rot for all I care."
Yaning/Jingyi: "…"
Tone down the menace!
You're not even a Central cadet yet!