"People really respect the strong, not the kind," John thought to himself, a bitter but pragmatic realisation settling in his heart.
He walked in silence, following the scarred examiner and the rest of the freshman class as they began a guided tour of their department. Since they had left the gathering arena, the atmosphere surrounding John had shifted fundamentally.
He was no longer the invisible "zero-score" ghost; he was the centre of attention. The other students kept stealing glances at him—some filled with newfound respect, some with naked curiosity, and a specific, vocal minority who watched him with eyes full of venomous hostility.
John decided to ignore them all; a few angry teenagers in a hallway weren't going to break his stride. He kept his eyes forward, observing the sprawling world he was now forced to call home.
The teacher led them out of the grand central building and onto a series of long, winding stone paths. They bypassed massive structures of glass and steel, lush gardens, and even streams of crystalline water. Finally, they came to a halt in front of a sprawling complex enclosed by a high, imposing wall.
Above the massive iron gates hung a heavy sign: The Military Department.
This was the first place John had seen within the academy grounds that featured literal walls and gates. It gave him an unsettling feeling—as if the academy leadership feared the "monsters" they were breeding inside this specific sector and had decided it was safer to cage them away from other departments.
"This is our department," the teacher announced, gesturing toward a cluster of seven massive buildings visible in the distance beyond the gates. "We have seven grades in total. You will spend one year in each grade.
Your annual results and your performance during exams will determine whether you move up, repeat the year, or face immediate expulsion. We do not tolerate negligence. If you can't keep up, you are gone."
The teacher began pointing out the various structures, his voice firm. The layout was pragmatic: three buildings served as dormitories, two were dedicated to high-intensity training, one was for traditional classrooms and lectures, and the final building housed the administrative offices.
It was a simple, effective arrangement, but John was barely listening. He was far more concerned with his Frame Recognition ability.
He kept activating it in short bursts, watching the world dissolve into green geometry and then snap back into reality after ten minutes. Beyond just familiarising himself with the alien interface, he was hungry to understand the "code logic" of this new world.
Unfortunately, he soon discovered the ability had significant distance limitations; the further he tried to peer into the green world, the more blurred and distorted the code structure became. Moreover, once he had consumed half of his available Mental Points, a sharp, pulsing warning flickered in his vision.
[System Warning: Mental Points at 50%. Overexertion detected. Cease use of Active Abilities to avoid hitting 0 and Burnout!]
Reluctantly, John stopped using the ability. He turned his attention back to the teacher, who was wrapping up the orientation with a stern warning.
"Listen up. Today is your admission day. You will go to your assigned dorms, rest, and reflect. Tomorrow morning, we will have an introductory class where the true nature of your curriculum will be explained."
The teacher paused, his fierce gaze sweeping over the students, lingering for a second on the group that had been glaring at John. "Internal fighting is strictly prohibited within the department premises. Do not break the rules on your first day, or I will personally see to it that you are expelled before the sun sets."
The students nodded in a chorus of hushed "Yes, sirs." John felt a prickle of intuition—he suspected the teacher was specifically trying to protect him from a revenge-fueled ambush.
"Here are your keys," the teacher said, producing a large, rattling stash. He handed them out one by one, providing precise directions to each student. When he reached John, he pressed a heavy metallic key into his palm. "Your room is on the third floor. Turn right, then left. It's the tenth door on the left side of the hallway."
"Thanks," John said. He meant it. It wasn't just a thanks for the key; it was a general acknowledgement of the man's intervention in the arena and the subtle shield he was providing so far.
The examiner seemed to catch the weight behind the word. He reached out and briefly rubbed John's head—a rough, paternal gesture. "Just make us proud, kid."
The teacher watched John walk away, a thoughtful frown creasing his scarred forehead. Something about the boy didn't add up. John gave off the distinct aura of a "hidden prodigy," someone far more powerful than his admission papers suggested.
He decided right then to return to his office and dig through John's file once more. He wanted to know exactly which powerful faction had sent this little cub into his fold.
John walked toward the dormitory building, feeling the daggers of twenty-three different gazes sticking into his back. He didn't care. Since he was stuck here, he was going to live on his own terms.
When he finally found his room and turned the key, he stopped in the doorway, stunned.
"No way..."
The room was massive. After spending the last few months in a lightless, cramped prison cell, the sheer scale of the quarters felt luxurious. Even compared to his small, cluttered apartment in the past, this room was nearly triple the size.
The dormitory was far from the prison cells John had grown accustomed to. It was filled with sleek, modern furniture that gleamed under the soft ambient light, devoid of even a speck of dust.
It felt like someone—or something—was paying close attention to every detail of his arrival. This became glaringly apparent when he spotted steaming food plates already placed on a large table in the dining area.
The dorm was structured with a massive central hall that branched off into four distinct rooms. One was clearly the bedroom, dominated by a high-tech sleeping pod. Another functioned as a study room, complete with a wide desk, stacks of papers, and a large tactical board.
The third room was designed almost exactly like the test chamber he had woken up in, featuring a training doll standing erect in the centre—though this one lacked the silver armour plate of the previous model.
The last room was a lounge, furnished with deep couches and cosy seats, looking like it was built for hosting fellow students and friends.
"First things first," John muttered, drawn toward the dining table by a sudden, violent growl from his stomach. He sat down and began to eat with a ferocity he didn't know he possessed.
"At least the food is well-cooked and tastes incredible!" Between mouthfuls of savoury steak and perfectly al dente pasta, he realised just how hungry he had been.
Once the edge was off his hunger, John leaned back and sighed. "Now… It's time to check the new ability." He focused his mind, calling up the golden profile window once more. He scrolled past his attributes until he found the newest addition to his arsenal.
[Object Lockdown Ability: Active - Basic]
[Description: Allows you to freeze any target you touch. Effect: Affected targets cannot be moved, cannot be used, and cannot be destroyed. Cost: 1 Mental Point per activation. Duration: 1 minute.]
"Hmm… It looks like a freezing power. Could be handy in a lot of situations," John mused. He thought back to the fight with Alfred. If he had touched the bully's arm, could he have frozen him in mid-swing?
The description mentioned "any target," but John felt the familiar itch of a programmer looking for specifics. Can it freeze living beings, or just inanimate objects? I'll need to find a way to test that out later.
Then, he shifted his attention toward two specific points in his profile that had updated during his walk.
[The Hacker System: V.0.2]
[System Synchronisation: 2%]
"It seems I've progressed in these two aspects… But what does 'System Synchronization' even mean?"
[Ding! I will answer your question—for the price of 1 Mental Point!] [Ding! Please note: This paid service will last for 10 minutes. You may ask as many questions as you like during this window!]
"What?!" John nearly choked on the last of his pasta. The system's demand was entirely outside his expectations. "You didn't charge me for answers when I asked you earlier!"
[Ding! That was a complimentary system treat for the initial integration phase!]
[Ding! Take note: Paid Mental Points do not guarantee a successful answer. If the current System Level and Synchronisation are insufficient for the data requested, you will receive nothing in return!]
"Unbelievable," John raised an eyebrow, feeling like he was dealing with a moody and exceptionally greedy AI. "Fine. Take the point and start talking."
[Ding! System Synchronisation is the metric used to assess how deeply your System has integrated into the framework of this world.]
[Ding! Reminder: You are an anomaly. You are a 'bug' that the world's core logic wishes to delete. Do not expect to stay hidden forever using Spoofing alone; even Spoofing has its limits. You must work to integrate the System with the game-world's logic to become a 'natural' part of the reality.]
[Ding! Furthermore, the System requires upgrades at certain milestones. For example, when hitting Version 0.99, an upgrade to Version 1.0 is mandatory.
Such upgrades require a specific Synchronization threshold. If your Sync is too low, the upgrade will fail, your masking will shatter, and your presence will be instantly detected by the 'Big Mind'!]
John remained silent for a long moment, processing the information. He linked it to the tech companies of his own time—how they launched higher versions with better stability and fixes to solve current bugs and provide more features.
"So, with every upgrade, more features are added, and I gain more power to hide and fight back?"
[Ding! Correct. Your progress will hit a hard ceiling without these upgrades. Always aim for higher synchronisation and upgrades!]
"I see," John thought back to how the system had been so hasty in issuing a quest the moment a conflict arose. "That's why you gave me that quest so early… To force the sync. Thanks for the heads-up."
With the weight of the day finally catching up to him, John stood up and walked into the bedroom. He threw his body onto the large, soft bed, the mattress conforming to his body with great soft comfort.
"What a day," he whispered. He closed his eyes, a genuine smile spreading across his face.
He had started this morning as a prisoner facing a life of silence behind bars—or a lethal injection. Now, he was in an amazing future world, armed with a system that made him a god in the making. He didn't just have a chance to survive; he had a chance to stand out and be the strongest. And above all… He was free!