Chapter 67: The Competition Begins

Chapter 67: The Competition Begins

As Zhang Yu and Bai Zhenzhen stood in awkward silence, both secretly plotting to borrow money from Lei Jun later, a familiar voice interrupted their thoughts.

"Zhenzhen, Zhang Yu—you’re already here?"

The pair spun around. Spotting Zhao Tianxing exiting the subway station, they lunged forward like ravenous zombies, clinging to him like a lifeline.

Zhao had come specifically to watch their competition.

"Old Zhao, lend us some cash", Zhang Yu said bluntly. "We need dinner."

Zhao sighed, transferring a mere ten yuan. "My mom’s paranoid about me overspending. This is all she let me bring."

Pathetic momma’s boy. I’m ashamed to know you.

Still, ten yuan beat nothing. Grumbling, the two dragged their hungry bodies into a nearby convenience store, buying a few steamed buns. But with their current cultivation and physical strength, the meager snacks barely dulled their hunger.

Bai Zhenzhen’s eyes glinted green as she stared at the store. "Yuzi, let’s rob this place."

Zhang Yu nodded. "You handle the robbery. I’ll handle disposing of the evidence."

She paused. "Do you think Bailong High will provide free food?"

"Free? They’ll probably charge us double", Zhang Yu scoffed.

Suddenly, both perked up. A familiar figure stood at Bailong’s gates, reverently photographing the school sign.

"Old Qian!"

They sprinted toward Qian Shen, grabbing his hands. "Treat us to dinner! We’re starving ourselves out of competition!"

Qian blinked, checking his phone. "Three hundred enough?"

Holy hell! Zhang Yu gaped.

What have I been doing for the past two months?

Hanging out with Bai, the card slave? Zhao, the momma’s boy?

No—Qian’s the real Mvp!

Under Qian’s hospitality, the pair devoured twelve 10-yuan combo meals, costing him 120 yuan. Rubbing her slightly rounded belly, Bai sighed contentedly. "Better stop here. We’ve got the competition ahead."

Zhang Yu nodded. "Don’t worry, Old Qian. We’ll repay you once we win the prize money."

Qian waved it off, then hesitated. "Hey… Will Zhang Pianpian with 699 points come watch your match today?"

Zhang Yu gave him a pitying look. Poor Tom, smitten by a high-scorer.

He wanted to say, You’ve got 620. She’s 699. You’re worlds apart.

But patting his full stomach, he replied, "Doubt it. She’s busy. Why would she watch a freshman competition?"

Qian nodded. "Makes sense. She’s in senior year now, preparing for the Imperial Entrance Exam and college interviews."

Zhao, glancing at his watch, interjected. "We’re meeting Lei at midnight. Should we head in?"

The quartet approached Bailong’s gates. As Lei hadn’t arrived yet, Zhang Yu suggested entering to wait.

But as they neared the one-meter mark, an electronic voice blared:

"Unauthorized personnel, do not enter."

The nearby screen displayed:

Tourist tickets required for entry.
12-hour pass (floors 1-3): 500 yuan/person.
Free entry for those scoring 660+ on Bailong’s Monthly Exam or Imperial Entrance Exam.
550 and below/prohibited.

Translation: "No low-scorers or dogs allowed."

Zhang Yu surveyed his group.

We’ve been collectively snubbed by Bailong.

And 500 yuan? His account was empty.

Would they be eliminated before the competition even started?

He turned to Qian, only to find Bai already staring at him.

Qian, however, gazed at the gates, awestruck. "Just like I heard—Bailong’s doors don’t open to everyone."

He reached to scan the QR code.

As Zhang and Bai opened their mouths to ask for more money, Lei Jun finally arrived.

"You two don’t need tickets", Lei waved. "You’re competitors. Here’s your e-pass."

With the passes, they entered smoothly—except Zhao, who lingered awkwardly outside.

"Go ahead", Zhao mumbled. "I’ll call Mom for cash."

Lei nodded. "The venue’s underground. Find us later."

Inside, Zhang Yu noticed the air smelled… sweet.

Qian inhaled deeply. "Cognitive Enhancer in the air system. Boosts focus, neural activity—hint of fruit and flowers."

This school’s air is literally perfumed.

They walked the corridor, split into white and red zones.

White: 660+ Bailong students only.
Red: 660-.

Zhang Yu snorted. So the elite walk the middle, and the rest crawl the sides?

Qian, ever the guide, explained, "All areas here have score thresholds. Students must stay in their zones."

You’re from Songyang, Qianzi. Why’re you so familiar with Bailong? Planning to defect?

At the elevator, another sign:

660-: Prohibited.

So sub-660s aren’t even human here.

As tourists, they bypassed the rules, riding the elevator to the underground arena.

The venue sprawled—ten meters high, thousands of square meters. Competitors from elite schools milled about.

"Compared to the Magic Aptitude Competition, this Martial Arts one’s practically a private league for the Big Three", Zhang Yu muttered.

The audience seats held scattered students, but three disciplined blocks stood out—Bailong, Ziyun, and Hongta students, rigid as soldiers.

"Big Three students actually skipped studying to watch?" Zhang Yu gaped.

"Observing peers’ battles sharpens one’s skills", a voice explained.

Lian Tianji of Ziyun approached, smirking at Zhang Yu. "Knew you’d show up. Only a few from Songyang, huh?"

He glanced at their group, nodding. "Understandable. Songyang, after all."

There goes my Songyang uniform being insulted again.

But I’m no Songyang loyalist. I’m an Inspection Division contractor.

"Who else came from the Big Three?" Zhang Yu asked.

Lian pointed. "All ten per school. We’ve already held internal qualifiers. Only top ten advanced."

After parting ways, Lei led Zhang and Bai to the competitor lounge.

The lounges mirrored class divides:

Big Three: Sofas, snacks, drinks.
Other key schools: Plastic chairs, water.
Ordinary schools: Wooden benches.

White Dragon’s really hates commoners sneaking free food.

Meanwhile, Qian wandered the audience seats until spotting a familiar figure—hat, sunglasses, mask.

"611’s He Dayou?" Qian blurted.

He Dayou sighed, turning away. "Didn’t expect you here, Qian Shen."

"Here to watch Zhang Yu and Bai Zhenzhen?"

"Please. Their skills can’t even reach the average. I’m here for a junior classmate’s invitation."

Qian sat beside him. "Which school? What score bracket?"

He Dayou turned away, silent.

Backstage, the organizer announced:

"To prevent early elimination of strong competitors, we’ll start with a scoring round."

A golden, two-meter-tall figure stomped in.

"This is the Yellow Turban Enforcer", the referee declared. "It’ll fight each of you for one minute at 1.98 Physical Strength Level—the current average. Judges will score your performance."

(End of Chapter)

Chapter end