Half an hour later, the starship finally completed its jump—no longer a high-speed spinning agitator, but the howling noise persisted in waves.
Outside the window, darkness gave way to dawning light. Blue sky and golden morning sunshine streamed in. They had arrived at a strange island, viewed from high above: a vast land of dense jungle, surrounded by the ocean.
The instructor emerged from the forward cabin. He was no longer surprised by how weak this group of trainees was. He handed each of them a military exercise kit. Chi Zhan hefted his twice—these were heavy packs. Next, they distributed parachutes. Someone frowned and reported, “Instructor, I’ve never used this before. What if it fails to open mid‑air?”
“If you don’t know, learn on the spot,” the instructor said expressionlessly. “When your name is called, step forward.”
Chi Zhan studied the parachute closely, while the instructor whispered something to the prince.
…He no longer felt queasy. Back at his seat, reality felt oddly surreal. What had just happened seemed like a hallucination caused by dizziness.
Still, one patch of fabric, more wrinkled than the others, burst through Chi Zhan’s self-deception. He glanced covertly—regret washed over him. How could he face the Crown Prince after succumbing to temptation?
He raised his head again and met a pair of deep, mischievous eyes.
He’d been caught.
“Chi Zhan.”
Hearing his name, he composed himself, cleared his mind of foolish thoughts, rose, and walked toward the ship’s hatch.
Yet a burning gaze remained fixed on his back.
The instructor briefly explained how to use the parachute. Chi Zhan nodded, checked the straps again, inhaled deeply…and leapt.
“Your Highness, we’ll hover the starship near the drop point. If you need it, you may board directly.”
The prince watched Chi Zhan shrink into a tiny speck and curved his lips.Â
“Isn’t there a parachute? Trying it out now could be interesting.”
Hardly anyone had ever seen a royal act so recklessly. Those at the top usually valued their safety—never venturing where it was dangerous. But this crown prince did the opposite, not caring for his exalted status.
Still, somehow it inspired respect.
What the prince didn’t know was that he had never planned to take part in this drill. To him, it was mere child’s play. The command center had full-screen tracking—but he preferred to get personal, to spar with Chi Zhan again.
More pressingly, he wanted to know who had touched “his little friend” and left an Alpha’s pheromone signature.
It had been applied carefully and wasn’t a low-level pheromone. Had it not been for the prince’s elevated level and the fact that he deliberately released pheromones on Chi Zhan yesterday, the signature would never have been detected.
The academy had been on lockdown all of yesterday—no outsiders could enter. The list of suspects was limited to students.
Who dared touch him…
The prince narrowed his eyes, a chilling bloodlust shining through.
Best not to get caught.
Chi Zhan was in a stroke of bad luck today.
The island’s wind was fierce, sending him sprawling onto the beach. Everyone knew that, compared to landing in jungle cover, an open sandy beach offered no hiding places.
But given the wind and Chi Zhan’s first parachute jump, he had no control over his landing—and disaster struck.
As soon as he hit the ground, a hard object pressed against his back.
A gun barrel, it seemed.
“Don’t move!” the voice behind him trembled, despite sounding aggressive.
Chi Zhan froze, surveying his surroundings.
Landing first and being discovered wasn’t all bad—after all, supplies were limited.
The gun barrel vibrated as it pushed harder. “Hand over your kit and your name tag. Quickly!”
Chi Zhan exhaled softly. In the next moment, lightning fast, he spun around without hesitation, seized the gun’s grip, and shoved it skyward. A thunderous BANG echoed as birds startled into flight and thick gunpowder smoke billowed around them.
The recoil rocked the weapon. The attacker, unprepared, released his grip. He took a moment to register how foolish that was—then lunged to snatch the gun back.
Chi Zhan’s face remained placid as he delivered a swift, flying kick that sent the man crashing to the sand. The movement was fluid, executed without a second’s hesitation. He stomped a foot onto the man’s chest to prevent a surprise attack as he searched for the name tag—but it was gone. Likely the reason the attacker had struck first, though in a rash moment.
Chi Zhan grabbed the supplies bag and didn’t forget the gun. He sized up the man quietly and said, “Better luck next time.”
Frozen in shock, the man was knocked out by a precise blow.
Chi Zhan never engaged in robberies—but these were the rules of the exercise: survival of the fittest. Every point would be hard-won. If he didn’t score early, it would be harder later.
Still, he held back enough to stop the man from pursuing. In mere minutes, he’d awaken.
What he hadn’t anticipated was just how heavy this bag was.
It taxed his strength. Now was not the time to examine it. The loud gunshot had surely attracted others. Finding a hidden spot to regroup was paramount.
Chi Zhan disliked direct confrontation—perhaps the Intelligence Academy bred caution, or maybe growing up in an orphanage had taught him that drawing attention was dangerous. He preferred to hide and seek his opportunity.
The sand was soft and thick. His military boots were heavy and sunk deep, making every step laborious. Add two packs to his back and movement became painfully slow. He staggered until he finally reached the forest’s edge. He froze mid-step and glanced back.
