Chapter 18: What Use Do I Have for You?

Long Night’s gaze fell upon the coffee table. There had just been a small vial set there—her latest research, “S13”—and now it was missing. Taken away by someone in a huff...

On the training field, Lin Xiaosu maintained an ostentatious pose for about ten seconds. That posture was the very one he’d struck after his final shot blasted through Crescent’s defenses. Was it because he thought he looked impressive and flamboyant? Nonsense—he’d simply thrown out his back.

This body, truly, could not keep up with his reflexes or his sharp eyes. Heaven’s Insight let him perceive the subtlest detail; no matter how complex the environment, he saw through it at a glance. Mortal Intuition, analytical and integrative, rivaled the most sophisticated computers—and those two gifts were why he’d torn through special ops so effortlessly.

But the body he’d been given was simply inadequate. It couldn’t keep up with his speed at all. After that intense exchange, to have wrenched his back—how humiliating...

Hopefully, no one had noticed.

Lin Xiaosu withdrew from the firearms area and returned to his room.

His assistant, Xiao Luo, hurried over, full of concern. “Sir, are you all right?”

“I’ve pulled my back... Do you have any remedies for injuries?” Lin Xiaosu stretched out on the sofa.

Xiao Luo beamed. “I can use electrotherapy and acupuncture. Ten seconds and you’ll be as good as new. It’s a healing art from our ancestors of the Grand Xia.”

“Perfect. Treat me, then.”

She replied, “I’m sorry, sir, but you haven’t unlocked that permission yet.”

Lin Xiaosu glared at her. “So as my assistant, when your boss is injured, all you can do is stand by and make snide remarks, without lifting a finger?”

“I could sing for you,” Xiao Luo said, “to ease your pain.”

“Fine. Sing ‘What Use Are You to Me’...”

As the sun set, Lin Xiaosu welcomed his first night in Room 101. After dinner, he wandered by the lakeside, still clutching his back, and ran into Zhou Zhen.

Zhou Zhen regarded him with surprise. “Xiaosu, have you unlocked the assistant’s ultimate function?”

“What ultimate function?”

Zhou Zhen blinked. “She’s a humanoid, you know... ultimate function, you get what I mean...”

Damn!

Lin Xiaosu understood... But he was being maligned. His little assistant was nothing if not principled. Even with his back out, she could have helped with acupuncture or electrotherapy, but she did nothing. And yet Zhou Zhen thought he’d unlocked some ultimate function, and that’s why he was clutching his back? As if he was physically spent for that reason?

And this guy called himself a hacker, or even a red-hat hacker? With a mind full of tabloid fantasies, was he not afraid of becoming a “yellow-hat”?

Feeling that an injury during training was nothing to boast about, Lin Xiaosu said nothing more. They exchanged a few words before returning to rest.

Fortunately, by the next morning, his back had eased somewhat.

Lin Xiaosu did a set of warm-up exercises and headed for the firearms section again. But this time, his eyes were on the vehicles.

Vehicles, too, were equipment—and of the most profound kind.

When on missions, Qianlong members naturally had to use all sorts of transportation, so driving was an essential skill.

Lin Xiaosu had no license. He hadn’t even learned to drive before. Few college graduates these days couldn’t drive, but unfortunately, he was among them.

Why? Lin Xiaosu glanced at his family’s humble brick house, at the vegetables his mother grew, and realized he wouldn’t be able to afford a car any time soon—so he gave up on learning. But now, wasn’t the opportunity right in front of him?

He couldn’t drive in real life, but in the simulation, he could—and not just cars, but planes as well.

The Qianlong training system was just that formidable.

Step into any vehicle, and the world outside transformed completely. The vehicle itself didn’t move, but once you sat inside, all sorts of scenarios were projected for you. The most impressive aspect? Every movement you made provided a tangible, immersive experience.

Hit a bump, and the car jostled. Speed up a hill, and you’d feel weightless. If the car rolled over, spinning several times in the air, the simulator car beneath you would really flip, too.

In other words, sitting in the cockpit felt exactly like driving out on complex roads—no difference at all.

Lin Xiaosu’s learning ability was extraordinary.

In just half an hour, he was driving like a seasoned veteran.

An hour later, his car entered the expressway, swarmed by countless other vehicles.

Suddenly, a window rolled down in a nearby car—a gun barrel pointed right at him.

Lin Xiaosu was startled. He slammed the brakes.

The car in front sped away, and the gun barrel swiftly tracked him.

With a swift motion, Lin Xiaosu’s hand found his pistol. The window rolled down, wind roaring in. Bang!

A single shot—straight through the adversary’s head.

That car lost control, colliding with a pile of others. Ahead, a chain-reaction crash unfolded, just like a real expressway disaster. Lin Xiaosu seized the moment, calculated the opening, floored the accelerator, and shot through beneath the flying wreckage, dodging seven or eight cars in rapid succession, and raced away down the highway.

“Brilliant!” Long Night exclaimed, clapping her hands in the courtyard.

She’d witnessed the entire scene once again.

In fact, all of Lin Xiaosu’s training was under her watchful eye—including his injuries.

She hadn’t treated his back because injury itself was part of the training; everyone needed to experience it firsthand to truly learn and adapt.

One day, two days, three days...

For seven consecutive days, Lin Xiaosu adapted to all manner of vehicles—cars, hovercrafts, planes, and even the latest models.

He drove through city streets and wildlands, piloted boats across the sea, flew aircraft in the blue sky, and faced enemies ranging from lone soldiers to squads, and even opposing tanks and warships.

He was already operating weapon systems at the missile level.

Lin Xiaosu himself felt nothing special—just another game.

But outside, Long Night and Number 88 were drenched in sweat.

“Eighty-eight, how long did it take you to reach this level?” Long Night asked, her voice probing deep.

“There’s something rather discouraging I hesitate to admit...” Number 88 replied. “In fact, I still haven’t reached his level. So asking how long it took me is meaningless.”

“In just seven days, he’s reached a level others can’t match in seven months!” Long Night breathed out softly. “I really don’t understand. With his insight and learning ability, why did he fail the civil service exam the first time?”

“Indeed, with his learning ability, a perfect score on the written exam wouldn’t be out of reach. Maybe it’s just a matter of interest—he’s naturally drawn to high-intensity competitions like this, and has no patience for dry academic knowledge.”

Yet Lin Xiaosu was about to shatter Number 88’s expectations once again.

His next stop was the library.

There, he discovered a newfound passion for book learning.

The library was organized by category and had virtual assistants as well.

Pressing a button, the assistant would appear as a hologram. Whatever book or subject he wanted, she’d provide it, either as an e-book or a physical copy.

For physical books, Lin Xiaosu’s fingers flew like lightning—page after page. A dense, 300-page tome on “The Principles of Genetics”—he finished in half an hour.

Then he switched to another, even drier, “The Complete Compendium of Medicine.”

Long Night and Number 88 exchanged baffled glances.

“What does this mean? Interested? He’s not even reading closely. Not interested? Then why plow through book after book?”

“I suspect he’s memorizing them,” Long Night said.

“Finishing ‘The Principles of Genetics’ in half an hour? That’s impossible,” Number 88 replied.

“It’s undeniable that certain mysterious genes can unlock hidden doors in the brain. The brain is the most enigmatic domain of the human body—even the most advanced human mind of this era, Kelson, only reached 18% development. He once asserted that if humanity ever reached 20%, miracles would follow.”

Number 88 gazed skyward. “If his brain really is at 20%, maybe his whole path will change.”

“Yes. In Qianlong, we have no shortage of special operations soldiers—any type you like. But we lack true genius-level researchers and developers. It’s the researchers who can, by themselves, drive humanity’s progress.”

No one knew that Lin Xiaosu’s speed flipping through physical books was only limited by his fingers, not by his ability to read or comprehend.

His hands could only turn the pages so quickly—what could he do?

But with e-books, it was different. Wearing a pair of glasses, and with the assistant setting the display to maximum speed, the words flowed past like a river—illegible to any normal person. Yet to Lin Xiaosu, it still felt too slow. With the intense training of recent days, his Heaven’s Insight and Mortal Intuition had both entered a whole new stage...

The assistant was not human, and thus felt no surprise.

She certainly wouldn’t reveal his secret.

Another seven days passed.

Lin Xiaosu seemed the laziest of trainees, spending an entire week in the library.

But anyone tallying up his achievements over those seven days would be left speechless.

He’d mastered seven languages, each with perfect fluency—an essential skill for espionage.

He’d absorbed “Principles of Genetics,” “Genetic Conceptions,” “Complete Compendium of Medicine,” “The Emperor’s Inner Canon”...

In the cutting-edge field of genetics, he’d already developed his own unique insights and understanding...

He deeply regretted not valuing Mortal Intuition when he first acquired it, thinking it less practical than Heaven’s Insight. But now, he realized—how could Mortal Intuition even be compared to Heaven’s Insight?

With Mortal Intuition, his speed of learning and depth of understanding had multiplied a thousandfold, reshaping his knowledge, his perspective, and his entire worldview.

He found particular fascination in espionage lore.

So, when he’d had his fill of other subjects, he relaxed with a book on spycraft.

The tea had gone cold; music drifted softly in the air. He seemed to slip into a vibrant, multifaceted world of espionage...

The book in his hands used pseudonyms.

The places, too, were disguised.

But he knew that every story it contained was true.

One spy, for the sake of the nation, had personally killed his wife.

One undercover agent watched his own son beheaded, and cheered with the crowd.

One researcher, to mislead the enemy, carried out “Operation Trojan Horse”—murdered his superior, defected with a trove of genuine secret documents, but all with the intent to lead the enemy astray, thereby winning invaluable time for the Grand Xia.

One of the most promising genetic savants crossed the sea to Roba, infiltrated the notorious “Hydra” branch there, assassinated Hydra’s “Bone King.” His body was shattered, but after being rescued by his comrades, his skeleton was reforged with liquid metal, and thus he became a legend...

“What are your thoughts?” Five words drifted from behind him, accompanied by a faint, lingering fragrance.