He knew exactly how much effort Chi Zhan had poured into preparing for this assessment. Every single break throughout the day had been spent training. Only the first-place finisher would have the privilege of choosing their post-graduation assignment—and naturally, the chances of serving the royal family increased significantly with that honor.
Who wouldn’t want to work for the Crown Prince?
Chi Zhan, enduring his physical discomfort, glanced at Tao Ran’s anxious expression and offered a soothing remark. “I’m not upset about the competition results, don’t worry. I just don’t feel well.”
“Chi-Chi, are you running a fever? Your face looks a bit flushed.”
Chi Zhan blinked, then raised the back of his hand to his forehead. He seemed puzzled.
“I don’t feel hot… probably not a fever.”
“You’ve got all these injuries. You need to go to the medbay and get checked out.”
Chi Zhan chuckled lightly.
“It’s just a few scrapes. No need to trouble the medics. I’ll clean up a bit.”
Just as he said that, both his and Tao Ran’s comm bands buzzed with a light vibration. Tao Ran tapped his screen and immediately looked surprised.
“Chi-Chi, the Crown Prince just announced he’ll be using the Central Matching System to select his secretary. All third-year students can apply.”
Chi Zhan murmured thoughtfully, “The Central Matching System…”
How exactly was a system like that going to determine the best match for a secretary role?
Tao Ran was excited.
“This gives everyone a fair shot. It’s way better than hand-picking candidates.”
Chi Zhan’s lips curved faintly.
Tao Ran, oblivious to the subtle change in Chi Zhan’s expression, urged him on.
“Chi-Chi, you’re so outstanding. The system will definitely pick you. Let’s apply! I wonder what kind of info we need to submit?”
When they clicked into the application form, they were met with a daunting three full pages of data fields—everything from family lineage all the way back eighteen generations, to blood type, hobbies, and even every address they’d ever lived at. Tao Ran stared, wide-eyed.
“Why is this so complicated?”
It was an incredibly rigorous screening process.
Expected, but still daunting.
Chi Zhan scrolled down, and when he saw the line noting that Omegas would receive a 50% weighting bonus, his expression dimmed.
So the Crown Prince was clearly looking for an Omega secretary.
And he… was far from fitting that requirement.
A chasm that couldn’t be bridged by hard work alone had already been brutally placed in front of every Beta before they even graduated.
No matter how much effort they put in, no matter how hard they tried, Betas would always remain the most ordinary demographic in society. They could take on the most dangerous jobs, but they would never be recognized. There were no Betas among the upper ranks of the military or the elite echelons of society.
Principal Rhodes had originally planned for the Crown Prince to tour the academy and admire its most outstanding students—preferably Omegas. If one happened to catch his eye, even better. After that, he would watch a cultural performance that had taken three months to rehearse, and finally, a grand ball would wrap things up perfectly.
It wasn’t that Rhodes underestimated the prince.
The royal family’s tradition of indulgence and luxury had long since become the norm. With advanced technology inherited from their ancestors and unmatched military strength, even a life of idleness wouldn’t cause unrest. Everyone had simply grown used to the leisurely, laid-back pace.
But based on the Crown Prince’s behavior so far… things didn’t quite match that image.
Once he issued the order, Rhodes immediately set things in motion. Then the Crown Prince added, “Thank you. That’s all for today.”
“Yes, Your Highness. Your lounge has been prepared. I’ll escort you there.”
“No need,” the prince replied, lifting his eyes. His sharp gaze swept over Rhodes, and then he gave a faint, cold smile. “I don’t like being scheduled. Nor do I like being followed or having my every move monitored.” The prince’s voice was chilling. “If I catch someone tailing me, I might not care much for royal decorum. Rhodes, do you understand me?”
In that moment, Rhodes felt as if he’d been completely seen through. A chill crept over him. But before he could respond, the Crown Prince had already looked away, idly fiddling with a metal insignia in his hand.
“Once the matching results come out, I expect you to take it seriously.”
“Yes, Your Highness.” Rhodes’s voice trembled slightly. “I understand.”
The prince stood and left, with Rhodes escorting him respectfully the entire way.
As he watched the Crown Prince’s departing figure, Rhodes raised his hand and keyed a string of numbers into his comms device, sending out a secure transmission in ciphered code.
Modern medical technology was highly advanced. Most procedures had long been replaced with automated treatment pods. Treating external injuries was even easier—just spray a little healing mist and the wounds would quickly seal up.
That was, assuming the wound was cleaned properly first to prevent secondary infection.
Chi Zhan’s combat uniform was already soaked through with sweat. He hated the feeling of being sweaty. Fortunately, a sterile cleansing room stood right next to the assessment grounds for students to use.
The room was empty—everyone had probably gone off to fill out their application forms. Chi Zhan took off his outer combat jacket, leaving only a dark, tight-fitting military T-shirt. The shirt was slightly oversized, tucked into his waistband, yet still left some slack, emphasizing his slim waist and long legs. His posture was impeccable, spine straight out of habit, the outline of his shoulder blades faintly visible beneath the thin fabric. His limbs were lean and evenly proportioned. But the abrasions and bruises along his arms marred the otherwise flawless look like blemishes on white jade.
Scars from close combat were inevitable. Chi Zhan’s body had a unique sensitivity—even the faintest marks would linger for days before fading, which made the injuries appear more alarming than they were.
He folded his jacket neatly and placed it into a storage locker. Just as he was about to take off the loose T-shirt—
His movements suddenly halted.
Chi Zhan narrowed his eyes. Reflected in the silver touchscreen panel of the locker, he caught a glimpse of a figure silently approaching him.
There hadn’t been anyone here just a moment ago.
Unfazed, Chi Zhan continued lifting his shirt—when a gust of wind suddenly rushed at him. His pulse jumped. His hand slipped, and the raised shirt fluttered down again, concealing the strip of pale, taut waist beneath.
On instinct, without thinking, he swung his elbow backward in a sharp strike toward the intruder’s face. If it had been an ordinary person, that blow would’ve knocked them down instantly. But clearly, his opponent wasn’t just anybody. The incoming figure dodged the blow effortlessly.
