Chapter 44: Simulated Battlefield

All through the night, the others gradually emerged from the awakening chambers. Some had failed in their awakening, but they too stepped out. Only Zhang Xingmin’s chamber remained unmoving, and as the deadline approached, the awakening room’s doors were about to close. The three teammates kept their anxious gaze fixed on Zhang Xingmin’s chamber, worry etched on their faces.

Within the chamber, time held no meaning, and Zhang Xingmin had no inkling that he’d far exceeded the allotted duration. Guided by his consciousness, he continued searching for the direction that would trigger resonance.

By eight o’clock the following morning, instructors from the Special Operations Division arrived, ready to clear the site and shut down the awakening room. Surprised to find three people still present, one asked, “What’s going on? Why haven’t you left yet?”

“Hello, Teacher! Our teammate is still inside. We’re not sure if there’s a malfunction. Could you take a look?” Zhao Nana rushed forward to seek help.

“Still not finished? How long has he been in there?” The instructor was startled upon hearing that someone’s awakening hadn’t ended.

“About eleven hours!” Brother Long replied hastily, his tone betraying his anxiety.

The instructor inspected the equipment thoroughly and found nothing amiss. He told them to wait and not to leave, then went to fetch more specialized personnel.

Soon, a crowd of experts arrived, including an elderly professor with reading glasses. They discussed among themselves for a long time and finally concluded that there was no problem—just an exceptionally rare case of deep awakening. They advised patience.

“Deep awakening? Does that mean the skill will be extraordinary?” Hearing this, the three were instantly transformed from worried to curious.

“No, not really. It’s just a bit of mischief from the developers, who buried some weapons deeper than others,” explained a young man with glasses and a lab coat, his expression cold.

“Who would do something so pointless?” Brother Long couldn’t help blurting out his thoughts.

“I did,” said the young man, and promptly left.

The group had come in a flurry and departed just as quickly, leaving the three teammates to continue their vigil.

Zhang Xingmin remained oblivious to everything happening outside. Suddenly, he found the spot that triggered resonance. It appeared to be some sort of whip. He tugged at one end for a long time, finally catching sight of his weapon. But it looked just like a metal chain—how could this be considered a weapon? He shook his head, recalling the textbook instructions, and stored the chain away, thus completing his awakening process.

Outside, it was already evening. The three had taken turns standing guard several times, and at last saw the progress bar on Zhang Xingmin’s chamber reach its end. The door opened, and Zhang Xingmin emerged, drenched from head to toe.

Seeing the chamber open, the three finally snapped out of their daze.

Brother Long looked at the soaked Zhang Xingmin, his clothes clinging to his muscles, and joked, “Big Min! Did you go for a swim in the sea?”

Zhang Xingmin glanced at himself—he did look rather bedraggled. He looked at the sky, now just turning dark, and asked, “How long was I inside?”

Lin Xiaofeng checked his watch. “An hour and fifteen minutes short—a full day!”

Hearing that he’d been inside for nearly twenty-three hours, Zhang Xingmin was taken aback. “That long?”

“Yep! You broke the record! What treasure did you get in there? Let us see!” Lin Xiaofeng asked, full of curiosity.

“First, promise you won’t laugh!” Zhang Xingmin eyed their odd expressions, sensing something was about to go wrong.

“We won’t, we won’t!” Brother Long quickly assured him.

Still uneasy, Zhang Xingmin glanced at them again before reluctantly channeling his consciousness. The weapon emerged—a heap of metal chains clattered to the ground, with a handle resembling a sword hilt in his hand.

Zhao Nana couldn’t hold back any longer and burst out laughing. She’d seen the equipment display suggesting it was a chain, but hadn’t expected it to be true.

Brother Long and Xiaofeng were rolling on the floor, tears streaming down their faces.

“I knew you’d react like this!” Zhang Xingmin said, helpless.

“Sorry—just imagining you spending a whole day in there, only to get a metal chain, I…” Xiaofeng couldn’t finish his sentence, overcome with laughter.

At that moment, the awakening room door opened. The instructor, having seen from the control room that all chambers were empty, hurried over. He entered to find a drenched young man, about twenty-seven or eight, holding a chain-like weapon, while his three teammates laughed themselves to tears.

That chain hardly looked like a weapon, but the instructor felt it was oddly familiar. He racked his brain, then exclaimed, “Longevity Lock? No wonder it took so long!”

“You call this thing a lock?”

“Teacher, you recognize it?”

...

Faced with a barrage of questions, the instructor was flustered. He wasn’t responsible for weapon management and knew little about such specifics. Why did these students have so many questions? Unable to help, he advised them to rest and suggested they ask the equipment center staff when updating their records the next day.

As for the Longevity Lock, even the equipment center had scant information. Since the awakening system and weapon repository were established, the Longevity Lock had rarely appeared, and a batch of weapon design documents had gone missing—including those for the Longevity Lock. With no answers, Zhang Xingmin could only practice and explore its properties on his own.

After awakening, Institute 211 assigned no further tasks, except for one: self-training. This allowed students to familiarize themselves with their new weapons and tested their professional discipline and self-control.

The students were excited, eager to practice with their new weapons, study the textbook instructions, and cooperate with teammates. Zhang Xingmin, in particular, needed to explore his weapon’s unique traits.

This laissez-faire approach didn’t last long. Once they’d mastered their weapons, the Special Operations Division introduced a new course: battlefield simulation. They hadn’t announced it beforehand—a sudden exercise to test the students’ self-learning and to help them gain real combat experience.

The simulation equipment was ready: a newly upgraded second-generation holographic system. It was similar to a multiplayer game, but the sensory experience was far more realistic. When students died in-game, the realism reached ninety-five percent—according to the first batch of testers, it was terrifying.

Of course, students could end the simulation early using a personal opt-out device, but doing so would result in a failing grade and a retest.

All students were prepared. The test began. They participated as squads, grouped as their original Special Investigation Teams, while those sent individually could form teams or go solo. Falcon Squad, however, cared little for these details.

Their main concern was the maps. According to the instructors, each squad would be assigned a randomly generated map, with difficulty varying. This uncertainty tested their adaptability.

Let’s shift perspective to Zhang Xingmin. As he lay in the holographic pod, he was tense—especially when the door closed and everything went pitch-black. His mild claustrophobia made it uncomfortable.

Finally, light appeared. He looked around and found himself in a remote forest, with not a soul in sight. Checking his wrist device, he saw four red dots scattered in different locations—clearly his three teammates.

He decided to rendezvous with them first, then figure out a way to escape together.