Since he was so clearly unwelcome, Su Er had no choice but to suppress the questions in his heart—for now.
After entering the Reform Camp, Principal Chen didn’t say much. A boy who looked a little older than them was responsible for explaining the layout.
“This is the cafeteria.”
“This is the academic building.”
The boy spoke like he was punching a time clock—mechanical and unwilling to say a single extra word.
When they reached a building outside the reach of the streetlights, he stopped. “This is the dormitory.”
Just then, two custodians happened to be carrying out a stretcher covered in a white cloth. Everyone had a pretty good idea of what was underneath.
The dozen or so teens standing by barely reacted, showing little pity in their eyes—more like relief and derision.
—See? That’s what happens when you act stupid.
The negativity was so thick that Su Er could practically hear their thoughts just from glancing around.
The custodians greeted Principal Chen when they saw him, and he nodded in return before turning to warn the players: “That student tried to sneak out of the Reformation Camp. Anyone caught doing that will be terminated ahead of schedule.”
Su Er and Ji Heng exchanged a knowing glance. In other words, as long as you don’t get caught, you’re fine.
“You can count on me,” Su Er was the first to promise. “I’m very rule-abiding.”
After all, he’d been through the Wudu instance, where any small mistake could be magnified endlessly.
Principal Chen replied blandly, “As long as you understand.”
Soon, everyone was assigned dorms. The dorm supervisor came by to collect their measurements, coldly informing them that standardized uniforms would be delivered the next day. Each person was handed a dorm key and a Reformation Manual.
The host had her own dorm. The little girl’s excuse was solid: she had to deliver a motivational speech a week later to encourage proper reformation.
The dorm rooms were standard: a bunk bed on top, a desk on bottom, two people per room. For once, Su Er’s luck wasn’t bad—he ended up paired with Ji Heng.
With only ten minutes left until lights out, Su Er quickly flipped through the manual. Ji Heng started reading from the middle, so between the two of them, they could cover more ground and pool their memories.
At exactly ten o’clock, the lights went out.
Climbing into bed, Su Er had just pulled the blanket over him when Ji Heng’s voice came from across the room: “How’s your control over that eye?”
“Not bad.” Su Er stared at the ceiling. “I can’t summon or suppress it at will just yet, but I can order it to sleep.”
It was just… once he used it, it became difficult to shut again.
Ji Heng: “Good.”
Su Er recalled what was written in the manual and focused on the matter at hand: “It says to leave this place, you need to receive four A-rank evaluations. I wonder how many slots are still left.”
The academy graded students A, B, or C. The ones doing the grading were the janitor, the dorm supervisor, the teachers, and the principal. But evaluations from the same category of person couldn’t stack—multiple teachers giving an A still only counted as one.
The Reform Camp only gave five promotion slots each year. No matter how talented someone was, if they came late, they had to try again next year.
Ji Heng: “We’ll find out tomorrow.”
Everyone was eager to escape—information like that would be easy to come by. And sure enough, during breakfast at the cafeteria the next day, they got reliable news: no student had yet received four A-rank evaluations this year.
At first, it sounded promising. But when they considered the current date, things got grim. Half the year was already over, and no one had made it out yet. The difficulty was clear.
Su Er had assumed the whole camp would be a place of lifeless misery, but what he saw overturned his expectations. Besides the group they’d seen the night before, there were other students in the cafeteria—students who were… defiant.
That was putting it nicely.
He even saw a few get into fistfights over arguments.
“New here?” Someone sat down across from him with a tray.
Su Er looked up, confirming the speaker wasn’t a player, and nodded.
The girl had her hair in a high ponytail and a bright smile.
The game’s setup made all players appear to be sixteen. To other players, their looks hadn’t changed, but to the residents of this world, they all looked sixteen.
Su Er gave off the strongest ‘teen boy’ vibe—his whole presence radiated an approachable aura.
The girl clearly liked his face and continued chatting: “Weird place, huh?”
Su Er nodded. “Isn’t this against the rules?”
“As long as you don’t fight in class, it’s fine,” the girl said with a grin. “There are four principals in the Reform Camp, and they all have different styles. One of them values toughness, so his supporters are always quick to throw hands.”
Calling them supporters was generous—it was more like subconscious flattery in hopes of earning an A-rank evaluation.
“Oh, I support Principal Dai,” she tilted her head, “He likes cheerful and optimistic people.” Then she pulled a notebook from her bag and handed it to him. “Here. This has tips for how to act cheerful.”
Su Er skimmed through it. It even had notes on preferred colors.
By the time he looked up again, the girl had already left with her group.
He nudged Ji Heng, who’d been quietly eating next to him: “What’s the point of all this reformation, anyway?”
Looking around, everyone in the cafeteria was either smiling nonstop or cold-faced—no in-between. It was as if each person was stuck in a single emotional mode.
“Easier to control,” Ji Heng said calmly. “If thoughts aren’t rigid at this age, rebellion is easy.”
Offer a sliver of hope, then pit the factions against each other—it helped keep the reformation camp stable.
Su Er didn’t quite get it, but he didn’t push the issue either. After all, worldviews in games were rarely what one would call normal.
Finishing the last sip of soy milk, he glanced around—there wasn’t a single other player in sight.
Ji Heng reminded him, “Don’t trust anyone this time.”
It was a flat statement. Not don’t trust too easily, but don’t trust at all.
Last night had been a mess with the host constantly targeting them, and the early darkness hadn’t helped either. Su Er hadn’t had time to pay close attention to the other players in the instance, but besides himself and Ji Heng, there should be four or five others.
Only five slots for evaluation meant the competition among players would be fierce.
Su Er knew this well. He nodded. “I’ll be careful.”
The daily class schedule wasn’t much different from real life. For a senior in high school, all this material was a breeze.
They were all placed in the same class. The classroom wasn’t crowded—only about twenty students, and a few more desks had been added for the newcomers.
Naturally, Su Er ended up seated with Ji Heng. On the first day, the teacher assigned a big question for the students to solve on their own. Su Er finished quickly. When he turned his head and saw Ji Heng still writing, he was a little surprised.
Ji Heng sat straight and had beautiful hands. “There’s more than one way to solve a problem.”
Su Er was just about to discuss it with him when Ji Heng paused, covering the question with one hand.
After a few seconds of silence, Su Er understood and quietly pushed his textbook over. “Go ahead and copy.”
Ji Heng didn’t move.
Su Er added, “What if the teacher calls on you and you draw a blank?”
Only then did Ji Heng start writing again.
He really had been a top student back in the day, but after leaving school for so long, some of it had started to fade.
The teacher, holding a discipline ruler, walked down from the podium. Several players got smacked—one had left the entire page blank, not even writing ‘Solution.’ Even those who didn’t know the answer at least faked it with a few auxiliary lines and pretend thinking.
The teacher gave that player a cold look. Realizing something was wrong, the player hurried to pick up his pen—but before he could do anything, the teacher had already turned and gone back to the podium.
The Reform Camp only had four classes a day. In the afternoons, a group of students would be selected for temporary internships. Their wages? Fully absorbed by the camp. Those not selected could spend their time however they liked—some made spreadsheets for teachers, others tried to win over the janitors by helping clean.
After morning classes, Su Er was praised multiple times for his excellent performance, triggering plenty of jealousy and silent unease.
On the way back to the dorm, he wore a smug, nostalgic expression. “So this is what being a star student feels like.”
Ji Heng was amused by the proud tone.
Su Er’s smile didn’t last long. Just before reaching the dorm building, he stopped. “I want to try approaching the dorm supervisor first.”
Ji Heng, of course, didn’t object.
The dorm supervisor was reading the list of boarding students. Upon seeing Su Er, her attitude visibly cooled. Her responses were perfunctory at best. Strangely, when another male player came in to chat, she was much warmer to him.
Su Er found it puzzling. Not long after, the host girl entered, and the supervisor’s attitude did a full 180—grinning like a flower, holding the little girl’s hand and chatting away.
Su Er watched for a bit. “Maybe I’m just being paranoid, but I feel like she’s talking smack about me.”
Ji Heng replied, “Something about you thinking too highly of yourself for being clever, having an unstable personality… maybe something about you being jealous of her. Probably that kind of stuff.”
Su Er blinked.
Ji Heng added, “I studied lip-reading on purpose.”
The little girl smiled at Su Er through the window.
The male player who had just chatted with the supervisor passed by them and said with faux concern, “You should probably just play nice. If the host starts spreading bad things about you, it’ll be hard to find a foothold here.”
He paused, then added, “I just saw her heading to the academic building. Probably to talk trash to the teachers.”
That last sentence oozed with gloating.
Su Er remembered him—during the problem-solving earlier, this guy had left the page completely blank and got the teacher’s icy glare.
Even after the guy walked off, Su Er didn’t retaliate. He just said, “Thanks for the reminder.”
Ji Heng didn’t comment on how others chose to handle things. He simply glanced at the guy’s name tag, noted it, and stood by silently. After a while, he asked, “Not angry?”
Su Er shook his head. “Mr. Yao once said, we should respect species diversity.”
You didn’t often run into players who wore their opinions so plainly on their sleeves. Might as well treasure the opportunity. As for the little girl—if she’d been secretly working behind the scenes, Su Er might’ve taken a loss. But now that he knew, it was actually a good thing.
Ji Heng caught his drift and raised an eyebrow. “So, what’s your plan?”
Su Er smiled. “Reporting to the teacher and talking bad behind people’s backs… that’s what little kids do.”
He, Su Er, master of green tea boy strategy—volunteers for the fight!
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