"This end-of-term examination will be harder than before, but… it won't be the hardest," Li Pi said, looking at the students standing before him. It was no exaggeration to say he had watched them grow up — from age seven to fifteen, hundreds had become a few dozen. "The real trial is the graduation perception test that follows. Do well on this one. At the start of next term, I'll be waiting here for all of you. I hope everyone will graduate smoothly and earn their admission qualification."
During the final test, the school brought students to the border forest of 3212 Star. The creatures there weren't insect beasts, nor even one-tenth as strong, but they were perfect for assessing students. After the teachers discussed each semester, they would designate a range of terrain for students to hunt in. Each carried only one dagger — survival depended entirely on their own strength.
Each grade level meant a wider forest area and a steep rise in danger.
When every homeroom teacher had finished briefing their class, they led them toward the forest's edge.
"Remember," the B‑class head teacher said, scanning them, "staff are limited. Whether a teacher can reach you in time depends on luck. So… anyone who wants to withdraw can still do so now."
No one moved. After all these years, those who remained had steady enough hearts.
"In that case — 3212 Academy's 108th cohort, the 16th end‑term examination officially begins!"
At the gunshot's crack, students surged into the forest like a wave, eager to finish as soon as possible.
Teachers had marked a safe perimeter; if a student hunted successfully within it, they could leave. Still, countless risks lurked — the prey's strength was unpredictable, and even after a successful hunt, returning meant facing other beasts.
Vera Warde darted inward. She valued her life; for sixteen exams she had survived mostly by clever movement and avoiding serious injury. She was poor — she couldn't afford a healing pod.
The border forest looked peaceful; the air was fresher than the city's, but since the students entered, screams had echoed nonstop.
Even after sixteen visits, it was always the same.
For the forest's beasts, today was a feast day.
Holding her dagger in one hand, Vera rushed through a thorny thicket. The barbs sliced her training suit, but she didn't blink. People and beasts alike avoided this area, which meant it was the safest route — and offered ambush potential.
Because she was poor, Vera's instinct was always to find the most energy‑saving plan.
Moving through the thorns, her ears twitched — she stopped, tilting her head: a leopard prowled nearby.
Before she could act, the beast leaped to the thicket's edge and roared toward her.
She closed her eyes briefly. It had smelled her blood. She tried to press forward, but the leopard instantly gave chase.
Great. I thought I'd meet something easy; turns out I'm the prey.
Taking a short breath, Vera halted; at the instant the leopard gathered to spring, she suddenly dove aside, rolled, and killed her momentum.
"Roar—!"
The leopard's throat rumbled with excitement as it lunged.
Having seen insect beasts, Vera wasn't about to fear one leopard. She didn't dodge — instead she slipped past its forelegs, sliding downward until she was beneath its belly. As it stepped back to pin its prey, the prey vanished — and its back suddenly bore weight.
Vera had rolled through and up, now straddling the leopard's back; one hand clamped its head, the other slashed across the throat.
Blood sprayed like a fountain. The beast's dying cry stuck in its throat, collapsing before it could sound.
Standing, Vera exhaled. Half the test was done — now came the harder part, carrying the carcass out alive.
The stench of blood would attract more predators, and she had to haul over two hundred jin.
Rummaging her pocket, she realized she'd brought no nutrient fluid. She was starving.
Her teacher's wife's cooking had spoiled her; after weeks of real meals and snacks, she could hardly remember the taste of nutrient gruel.
Sighing, she resigned herself to hoisting the leopard and sprinted back through the forest.
"Hey! What are you doing?"
Panting, dizzy, Vera turned her head. A familiar voice. A classmate.
"Nice catch you've got there. Mind if I borrow it?"
"Get lost!"
Rolling her eyes, she strode into a clearing, dumped the leopard before them. "How about I lend you my prey instead?"
Seven or eight people stood there; one was her classmate, the rest from the neighboring class. Their leader lounged beneath a tree, a dead lion at his feet.
Seeing Vera, the group collectively stepped back.
Her classmate dragged his beast closer and pointed. "Those guys can't hunt for themselves — they gang up to rob others!"
They'd seen it happen repeatedly. The neighboring class's leader watched nearby; whenever anyone fought back, he joined in, ensuring success. Victims were many.
Not one of the robbers spoke; their eyes kept darting toward the student under the tree.
At last he rose and came forward. "Vera Warde, I advise you not to meddle."
Vera clicked her tongue, studying him head to toe, then asked pleasantly, "Wu De, your back injury healed?"
He was the one she'd flattened before — the so‑called A‑rank she'd beaten to the ground.
Tai Wu De: "…" His body began throbbing again at the memory.
Vera sighed. "We see each other every day. Here's my offer — leave all your game here, and I'll let you go."
Her tone was so matter‑of‑fact that Wu De laughed in disbelief. "You and your friend think you can take us all?"
Vera flexed her wrist. "What do you think?"
He had just turned to signal his men when a fist shot toward his face. He dodged — barely — only for another to crash into his head, leaving him dizzy.
"Boss Wu!" his followers shouted in panic.
Vera moved fast, dropping him with a flurry of blows before he could react. "Boss Wu? How about I make you Pig Wu instead?"
Several heavy punches later, Wu De nearly passed out. His last thought before blacking out: Damn, what kind of monster strength is that? One punch and I'm done for.
"Boss Wu!!!"
His followers paled, frozen by the sight of him unconscious.
Vera squinted at their wailing, her headache worsening.
"…"
It was enough to silence them. After a long pause, one quick‑witted boy stammered, "P‑Pig Wu?"
The rest caught on instantly. Soon the clearing echoed with cries of "Pig Wu—!"
Vera: "…"
"Which of these are stolen?" she asked coldly.
They shoved every carcass toward her, scooped up Wu De, and fled, even leaving behind his own lion.
"Tell the ones who lost prey I recovered their trophies. I'm heading back." She lifted her leopard and resumed running, still light‑headed.
Her luck held; no beasts appeared on the way out.
"Teacher, this is my prey — number B510816429." She hurled it before the examiner and slipped away.
Outside the forest was a small safe zone where vendors sold goods whenever exams were held. The smell of food made her stomach clench.
After searching, she found the cheapest nutrient drink and bought one.
Twisting open the cap, she sipped carefully while the air was thick with steam and seasoning.
Only after finishing an entire batch did her dizziness ease.
Sigh. When will I ever be free from nutrient rations?
She no longer dreamed of riches — until she became a true mecha engineer, poverty was her default state.
Judging the time, she headed toward the forest entrance. Most students had returned; piles of prey lay beside the teachers recording numbers. Li Pi was carrying two injured students to medics, who rushed them into mobile clinics.
"The 108th cohort's 16th end‑term test is now complete. Congratulations to all who passed. See you next term. May you all achieve your goals in the graduation exam."
After the grade head's closing words, teachers escorted the wounded away.
The students collectively sighed with relief and drifted toward the safe zone.
With exams over, pressure gone, and the smell of food everywhere, few could resist.
"Vera… thank you, for earlier." Her classmate caught up to her.
"It was nothing." She sniffed and swallowed discreetly.
Couldn't afford it — might as well enjoy the aroma.
Meanwhile, Wu De had finally woken after being knocked out. He had gone back to hunt again, barely making it before the exam closed.
"Get what you want," he told his followers flatly. "My treat."
"Thanks, b—Boss Wu." They scrambled toward the food stalls.
"Boss, this skewered meat's amazing! Try some!"
He accepted it without enthusiasm. As a supposed A‑rank, future Five‑Academy candidate, he needed to stay composed.
But the thought of Vera Warde, possibly A‑rank too, burned in his chest.
"Wu De, what a coincidence." Vera's cheerful voice froze him.
"!!!" Oh no. I'm doomed.
She stepped in front of him. "You've been holding that skewer for ages. Why aren't you eating?"
He longed to retort "none of your business," but, haunted by the memory of her fists, muttered, "It's gone cold… doesn't taste good."
Vera shook her head. "Wasting food's not right."
She's insane! he cursed inwardly, but forced a pained smile. "Th‑then I'll eat it now."
She stopped him, patted his shoulder earnestly. "Don't force yourself. We're classmates, after all. Let me take that burden for you."
"…She wants my skewer?!"
Wu De shoved it into her hand, very politely. "Actually, that stall's food isn't great either. Why don't you try it instead?"
"Oh? Selling bad food? That's not good."
"Then maybe you should handle it for everyone, Vera classmate."
"Of course. Thinking for others is always my principle."
Thinking for others my ass!
"Heh heh, Vera's on a whole other level than us ordinary folk."
Chatting amicably, they moved on together — toward the next stall.