[Reboot Volume] Chapter 215: Girls Affect the Mindset!

No, no! I can’t think like this! I already have Shiyan! Mo Xing shook his head.

...

“Come in,” the invigilator on the podium smiled gently.

“Th-thank you, Teacher Su.” Under everyone’s watchful eyes, the girl entered hurriedly with her head lowered.

“Li Xiangcao, you haven’t verified your identity yet!” The invigilator handing out exam papers suddenly called after her.

“Ah... w-where do I verify?” Li Xiangcao stammered, prompting a ripple of laughter among the students.

“Xiangcao, this way please.” Teacher Su held the crystal orb behind her. Xiangcao turned back to complete the candidate verification, then lowered her head to find a seat.

*Ding—dong—*

The chimes sounded through the window, signaling the start of the exam. Mo Xing’s attention had been drawn entirely by the earlier incident; now he finally lowered his head to the exam paper.

He realized that the questions seemed familiar—everything they had reviewed, the key points Shiyan and Senior Brother Cai Hong mentioned, all appeared in the test. A sudden wave of relief washed over him. It seemed the revision had truly paid off.

The soft rustling of pen against paper, faint wisps of ink scent drifting in the air, accompanied by the occasional furrowing of brows among the candidates—all combined into a harmonious yet tense atmosphere. The sound of pages turning rippled through, breaking the rhythm momentarily, only to be restored by the relentless scratching of pens.

Having finished the exam, Mo Xing glanced up at the clock on the wall—there was still half an hour remaining. He stretched lazily.

He noticed Teacher Su watching him intently, perhaps suspecting cheating, so he quickly resumed checking his paper.

*Ding—dong—*

The bell rang again. Pens dropped, and the two invigilators collected the papers. Teacher Su clapped her hands from the podium.

“Students, the theory exam is over. Next, the student council representatives will address you.”

Mo Xing’s gaze shifted to the door, where a familiar senior stood—more precisely, Chen Anye.

“Fellow juniors, I am Chen Anye, representative of the student council,” he bowed slightly.

Applause broke out among the students. Mo Xing joined in, wondering if there was some important announcement.

“The theory exam has concluded. The student council will now lead you to lunch and prepare you for the practical course assessment,” Chen Anye continued. “Please line up at the door and follow me and the other seniors closely.”

Everyone rose and queued by the door. Mo Xing positioned himself at the back of the line. Chen Anye was overseeing the rear students, so they walked and talked together.

“Mo Xing, how did you find the theory exam?” Chen Anye asked.

“Not bad. I was well prepared; it wasn’t as difficult as I imagined,” Mo Xing replied.

“That’s good,” Chen Anye smiled. “I felt the same back then and did quite well.”

“By the way, senior,” Mo Xing inquired, “how is the freshman assessment scored?”

“Well,” Chen Anye paused, “it’s divided into three parts, each contributing differently to the total score. Classroom performance accounts for twenty percent, the theory exam thirty percent, and the practical exam fifty percent.”

“So the practical exam is especially important,” Mo Xing nodded.

“The practical exam consists of two rounds: an individual contest in the afternoon and a team contest in the evening,” Chen Anye explained. “Matchups were prearranged by drawing lots. Just follow the schedule and listen for your turn. The mentors will score you during the matches.”

“Oh, the full score is 100, right?” Mo Xing asked.

“Yes, the higher the score, the better. It affects your priority in course and mentor selection,” Chen Anye said.

“I see,” Mo Xing was surprised.

“There will be many spectators, including representatives from other academies,” Chen Anye shrugged.

“Other academies will come too?” Mo Xing inquired.

“Our school, as the foremost among the four great academies, makes the freshman assessment quite attractive,” Chen Anye explained. “Besides watching the competition, other academies come to recruit students.”

“Why is that?” Mo Xing was puzzled.

“You probably know—our school’s freshman assessment eliminates nearly half of the students. Those who are eliminated aren’t truly out of options; they still have chances to sign contracts with other academies and continue their studies. However, any contract requires approval from our school,” Chen Anye said.

“I see now,” Mo Xing realized.

“The school has assigned our student council to escort you during entry and exit, preventing other academies from approaching you prematurely to arrange private contracts—”

“Trouble! Anye!”

Before Chen Anye could finish, a breathless student council member rushed over.

“What happened?” Chen Anye frowned. “We thoroughly checked fire safety, food hygiene, lighting, and other aspects yesterday. There are dedicated guards on duty around the clock. Even if President Zhang returns early, we have multiple contingency plans. Nothing should be amiss.”

“It’s... not that. It’s the vice president—” the student council member gasped.

“Shiyan’s in trouble!”

“What!”

Mo Xing was shocked, shouting louder than Chen Anye.

“What’s going on?” Chen Anye’s brow furrowed deeply.

“What happened?” Mo Xing was equally tense.

“Apparently, she was poisoned and has been taken to the campus hospital!” the student council member reported.

“Take me there immediately!” Chen Anye ordered.

“I want to go too,” Mo Xing urged anxiously.

“Mo Xing, stop causing a scene and focus on the exam!” Chen Anye shouted over his shoulder.

“...”

Biting his lip, Mo Xing slowly turned and rejoined the main group.

“She’ll be fine! She’ll definitely be fine! She’ll definitely be fine!” Mo Xing kept repeating in his heart, though unease lingered.

---

At the Hades Training Grounds.

Temporary arenas had been set up throughout the training area. Each ring was surrounded by mentors and referees exchanging notes, lighting technicians and cameramen testing equipment, and engineers conducting final inspections.

One by one, spectators took seats—some holding banners, others clutching snacks, some accompanied by their children.

In a less conspicuous corner, the freshmen gathered for lunch. The cafeteria staff handed out boxed meals; student council members maintained order while the newcomers sipped hot soup.

Everyone was merrily engaged, except Mo Xing, who curled up in a corner, biting on a piece of lean meat but unable to swallow.

“Shiyan will definitely be okay! Shiyan will definitely be okay! Shiyan will definitely be okay!” he repeated silently, his chopsticks trembling in hand.

“Y-you’re Mo Xing?”

Mo Xing looked up to find Li Xiangcao standing before him, her face brimming with surprise.

“Is there something I can help you with?” Mo Xing asked.

“Wow! It really is you!” Li Xiangcao became excited. “I... I’m your number one fan!”

“Uh... really?” Mo Xing replied.

“Can you sign an autograph for me?” Li Xiangcao offered a pen.

“Uh... where should I sign?” Mo Xing took the pen hesitantly.

“Right here... on the sleeve!” Li Xiangcao rolled up her sleeve.

“My handwriting’s a bit messy...” Mo Xing signed his name on her sleeve. “Please don’t mind it...”

“N-no, I definitely won’t mind!” Li Xiangcao smiled brightly. “After all, I’m your fan!”

“All done,” Mo Xing set down the pen.

“Great!” Li Xiangcao jumped up excitedly. “I finally have my idol’s autograph!”

“Li Xiangcao!”

At that moment, two student council members approached. Li Xiangcao quickly apologized.

“I-I’m sorry! I shouldn’t disrupt meal time!”

“We’ve been calling for you! Turns out you were here!” one said. “Hurry to Arena 12. You have a match in half an hour.”

“Oh, okay!”

Li Xiangcao left the dining area with them.

Mo Xing sighed, thinking the girl reminded him a bit of his former self—shy, sometimes stammering, but growing with time.

---

One hour later.

“Next up, Mo Xing.”

A referee called out. Mo Xing stepped onto the arena, releasing his staff from the Titan’s Ring.

“Is that Mo Xing?”

“He’s been in the news these days.”

“Looks like he’s from the Apocalypse class.”

“Then he should be pretty strong.”

The mentors in the audience whispered among themselves. Mo Xing glanced at them. He was at Arena 6, preparing to face his first opponent in the practical exam’s individual competition. He must stay calm and not be swayed by public opinion. But how was Shiyan doing? She should be fine!

She has to be fine!

“Contestants must shake hands before the match.”

Snapping back to reality, Mo Xing saw his opponent standing before him, hand extended. He quickly shook it. The school required both contestants to shake hands before and after matches, symbolizing friendship and respect.

Forget it—don’t overthink. Shiyan will be fine. He needed to focus on the match and not be distracted. But why did his mind keep drifting to her?

“Let’s begin!”

His opponent was a berserker, the same class as Senior Brother Mianhua. Having watched their sparring yesterday and combined with his own training, Mo Xing was confident he could win.

“Raging Flame Trio!”

The opponent swung his greatsword forward. Mo Xing released a row of water jets to block the charge—a downgraded version of the “Ice Blade” technique: the “Cold Water Blade.”

“Furious Flame Assault!”

The opponent’s greatsword ignited with blazing fire as he launched a fierce attack. Mo Xing quickly countered with a lower-tier “Ice Pillar” technique—the “Cold Water Pillar.” Yet the water element didn’t offer much resistance, and Mo Xing was knocked down.

This won’t do! Too passive! He had to find a way to counterattack! He couldn’t lose so easily—he’d promised Shiyan he would pass the freshman assessment! Wait... how was Shiyan doing? She should get better, right?

“Why isn’t Mo Xing fighting back?” one mentor frowned.

“What is he hesitating for?” another looked on anxiously.

Hearing their murmurs, Mo Xing snapped out of it. His opponent was charging at him, greatsword swinging wildly amid swirling fiery elements.

“Dragon-Slaying Strike!”

Mo Xing was blasted off the arena, drawing gasps from the audience.

Lying on the ground, Mo Xing stared up at the gray sky, faint rain drifting down.

This... this match was over?

I... I lost?

Others seemed to be discussing something.

He heard the referee blow a long whistle.

*Beep—*

Yes, it was the referee’s whistle.

The match was indeed over.

He had, indeed, lost.