“I know one person will change my world. That person is destined to be special.” Cen Chi gazed at Chi Zhan, a new light shining in his eyes. He smiled and said—
“Only you, Chi Zhan.”
“Gege, why don’t I have that someone?”
“It’s been a long time, boyfriend.”
“Please don’t break up, okay?”
“Even if I lose my memory again, I will still love you—now, in the past, and in whatever future comes.”
Every voice, every image, flashed through his mind like a rapidly flipped book. Then, one by one, they were erased, disappearing as if deleted.
[Player Chi Zhan has completed the hidden achievement: all romance targets’ Blackening Value exceed ninety. Triggering hidden world…]
[World danger level: SSS. Adjusting player identity…]
[Changing identity to… NPC mode. Loading…]
***
Imperial Military Academy, Intelligence Division
Third‑Year Building.
At that exact moment, every student on campus received an urgent broadcast on their neural interface.
“I heard the Crown Prince himself is coming to the academy today to choose a secretary-officer! I can’t believe it’s true! Being picked would be an incredible honor.” A red-haired boy exclaimed. “You need outstanding grades to get noticed! Moy, you were top in our department—your chances are huge!”
Moy flicked through the message, unsurprised, and replied proudly, “Of course.”
“But they didn’t say it must be the top scorer,” Tao Ran chimed in. “If not for that sudden problem, the top score should’ve been Xiao Chi.”
“Hmph, you might as well be the prince then—pick whoever you want.” Moy rolled his eyes.
“You!” The three nearly erupted into argument. A red exclamation mark flashed above their neural displays:
[Martial Alert Mode—Do Not Disturb!]
Chi Zhan emerged from the professor’s office, his interface pinging with messages—it was Tao Ran.
Tao Ran: Damn it—Moy only beat you by one point in the written test. What’s he so proud of!
Chi Zhan replied with a question mark. Tao Ran instantly spilled out the whole story.
Tao Ran was always straightforward, and Chi Zhan felt a mix of helplessness and warmth at his friend’s loyalty.
But Moy… must be a player.
Chi Zhan was a third‑year student at the Imperial Academy’s Intelligence School, about to graduate. His role? A completely ordinary NPC.
This was a romance simulation game. Players entered the world and freely courted romance targets. NPCs existed as support, villains, cannon fodder, or tools to advance the plot. Someone like Chi Zhan was as common as a grain of sand in the sea.
Even NPCs had tiers. High-level NPCs were closely tied to romance targets; low-level NPCs never even saw them. Their role was simply to maintain immersion. Romance plotlines never involved them.
Players in this world were easy to identify.
Generally, they looked better than ordinary NPCs, spoke bluntly without concern for others’ perceptions, acted rashly—completely at odds with the academy’s culture.
The Intelligence School’s core philosophy was to be invisible—the less noticeable, the easier to complete missions.
Yesterday had been the third-year entrance exam. Scores and ranks were released instantly when the test ended. Chi Zhan found such exams easy—but yesterday, he suddenly felt weak all over, his vision darkened, and he could barely hold his pen.
Leaving early meant failing by default. But Chi Zhan forced himself to endure the full three-hour test, but still missed one question—landing him in second place.
Then today, news arrived that the Crown Prince would personally visit the academy.
One twist of fate.
For Intelligence students, the best outcome was joining the royal household. But even the best positions carried extreme danger.
Few who completed missions and returned survived. As a result, they were always the least applied for—and had the highest casualty rates.
Yesterday was the written exam; today was physical combat trials. At the test center’s entrance, students viewed their matchups on a 3D intelligent screen. Tao Ran peeked and immediately looked sour.
“Chi‑Chi, did you really get Moy? He’s an Omega!”
The academy has only recently accepted Omegas. They face stricter standards, are usually nobility, and in the academy often add prestige rather than participate—qualified for Intelligence or Arts, but not Combat or Strategy.
For fairness, Omegas are normally grouped together. But if numbers don’t allow, they’re mixed into Betas’ groups—meaning Chi Zhan, a Beta, had been matched with Moy, the Omega.
“If he loses, he’ll probably blame you for being a Beta and harassing him!” Tao Ran warned. “Don’t go easy on him just because he’s Omega!”
Chi Zhan responded with a quiet “Hmm.”
Still, he was uneasy. Lately he’d felt dizzy at times. He’d visited the infirmary, but they found nothing—he just walked away with two vitamin C tablets.
A deep roar sounded overhead. Hundreds of starships gracefully arced above and docked at the starport.
Their pure white hulls bore golden flags and celestial emblems—a cold brilliance signifying the royal flagship fleet and escorts. It meant the Crown Prince was arriving.
Chi Zhan couldn’t examine them further—his test time had come.
He turned away, a pang of regret in his heart.
***
Starport Entrance
“Your Highness, you’ve arrived.” The academy’s director and several others standing nearby brought their hands to their chests and bowed deeply.
