Everyone crowded into the lift. Even with over 100 people, the platform still felt spacious. Then it began to descend. A new day started, beginning with this descent.
The Interstellar Academy had its own dedicated energy system—two fusion rings that guaranteed the school would never lose power.
So most of the facilities really were underground. Everyone had guessed it wouldn't be that simple. But this lift was impressive. Huge, luxurious, far beyond what they expected.
At the very bottom, they arrived at the place where classes would be held. Right in front of them was the insignia of the Defense Bureau—a design overlapping three images: a shield at the base, a wormhole in the middle, and the Earth on top. The landmass shown on Earth varied by each school's region.
Here, the land at Earth's center was Southeast Asia.
Below the emblem were two large letters: SS. It was short for StarSchool.
There was no opening ceremony. Classes started right away. The first lesson was martial arts, which surprised everyone. They thought someone would first give a speech to explain the situation. But the General clearly wanted them to experience the school's courses first, then understand later that evening.
If anyone refused to participate, they could pack up and leave.
Ming Wu stayed silent, standing in the crowd, his eyes sharp. Unlike the other relaxed students, he was like a bowstring drawn tight. His only goal here was to surpass everyone around him and claim the top.
"Everyone, come and take a vest. Your name is written on it—don't take the wrong one!" The instructor shouted into a megaphone.
The moment they picked up the vests, everyone had the same thought—heavy.
Some of the weaker girls couldn't even lift theirs. The weight of the vest matched their body weight.
"We're not actually supposed to wear this, right?" some whispered. They weren't here to do grunt work. Wearing a vest like this for a whole day meant they wouldn't be able to do anything else.
But the instructor wore one too, so they had no choice. They put them on. Immediately, many students were gasping for breath.
Too soft.
"Alright, now collect your weapons."
Weapons? Murmurs spread. But with the weighted vests pressing them down like they were carrying another person, no one dared move too wildly. When they thought of weapons, the boys imagined firearms. But when the instructor handed them out, they saw it wasn't guns—it was swords.
Martial arts lessons should have started with basics, but the General wanted them to feel the challenge of higher-level training, so the instructor went straight to swordsmanship. The swords weren't sharp, but they were heavy.
"General, why is the first class swordsmanship?" Liu A'dou asked, curious. He didn't know much about the academy's curriculum. He had only recruited a few candidates, and in the end, only one and a half showed up. One was Ming Wu, the other half was Liu Su.
He was starting to doubt his own eye for talent. Why did none of the people he picked come?
The General smiled, calm and confident. "Because on Einsten Planet, cold weapons are still common. When the time comes, they'll need to rely on blades either to protect themselves or to intimidate the enemy. Sometimes they'll need to blend in with locals. Sword skills don't need to be mastered, but they must know at least a couple moves."
Liu A'dou understood. This class was more about show. In the end, firearms would still be the real choice, since not everyone could handle blades. Still, he agreed there was value in training with cold weapons. Bullets always ran out eventually.
The General continued, "Besides longswords, there are also courses on hand-to-hand combat and daggers. Of course, the most important one is firearms. But since this is the first day, let them experience things first."
Alien situations were complicated, and the Interstellar Academy was training specialists for handling extraterrestrial affairs. They didn't need to be scientists, but they had to be versatile, able to adapt and use different skills in emergencies. Even though universities produced plenty of bookworms, those selected here were quick thinkers.
"They're probably all filled with doubts right now." The General chuckled as he watched the students swing their swords clumsily, completely lost.
Ming Wu couldn't understand why they had to practice swordsmanship. On top of that, the instructor was teaching killing strikes—slashing wrists, cutting throats, slicing across the abdomen. Looking at the sloppy, flashy moves around him, Ming Wu wondered if Liu A'dou was playing some kind of joke on him. Was this school just a child's game? Nothing serious at all?
Confused and dizzy.
After just half an hour, the weighted vests had them drenched in sweat, gasping for breath. Their arms wouldn't even lift anymore.
The instructor shook his head. 'If they were military recruits, they'd never be this weak. Why not just bring people from the army instead of pampered brats like these?'
"Rest where you are!" the instructor barked.
At once, the students collapsed to the ground in messy heaps. What kind of training was this? None of it made sense. They couldn't help but wonder if this was even a real school. The reality here was miles apart from the picture in their minds. The gap was just too big.
They had imagined cutting-edge technology everywhere, advanced devices, maybe even secret innovations hidden from the public. Instead, they were carrying weights and practicing with swords. Wasn't this going backward? Complaints were inevitable, though for now no one dared voice them out loud.
Liu A'dou glanced at the General's amused expression and suddenly realized he was cunning. He didn't explain a thing to the students, just threw them straight into the hardest training. Clearly, this was meant to scare off anyone unserious, cutting away the opportunists.
"Continue!" The instructor gave them ten minutes of rest, then demanded they resume. But most students, completely drained, couldn't even stand up. Only a handful managed to rise, barely more than a dozen. Ming Wu and Liu Su were among them.
'Good, they didn't embarrass me.'
The instructor ignored those still on the ground and focused on the dozen who kept going. His eyes couldn't hide the trace of admiration.
Even the General nodded. "These few are not bad."
Ming Wu noticed Ouyang—the smooth talker who had somehow weaseled into a leader's role—was also standing. He thought, 'That pretty boy looks fragile, but his endurance isn't bad.' And then there was Liu Su. She looked delicate and soft, but she was tougher than he expected.
Their determination lit a fire in the others. The proud sons and daughters of top universities suddenly felt they couldn't fall behind. One by one, they forced themselves to stand and swing their swords again.
Another half hour passed. By then, half the group was completely spent, collapsed in exhaustion, before training was finally called to a stop.
"What's the next class?" Liu A'dou muttered, feeling sorry for the students. Falling into the General's hands really was unlucky.
"The next one? Language."
"...?" Liu A'dou froze. What kind of language class would this be? When he went to take a look, he was surprised to see a familiar face—Dr. An Rong. "She was a physics PhD, then specialized in biomedicine. When did she become a linguist?"
"You really don't know?" The General smiled faintly. "Dr. An Rong is a once-in-a-generation genius. She learns anything at incredible speed. A child prodigy who grew into a national treasure-level scientist. And now, she's completely mastered the language and script of Einsten Planet. There's no problem having her teach." He had already told Dr. An Rong, though, that today she was only to teach. She wasn't to reveal anything about where the language came from.
Standing beside him, Liu A'dou suddenly felt a chill. The General's plan was clear—make the students suffer, right from the start.