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Chapter 22: An Absurd Score
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Before Mithra had time to think, the next moment a deep azure light engulfed her.
When her vision returned, she found herself back on the cloud-covered platforms of the Void Domain.
Above her, clouds gathered in clusters, blending with the resplendent sky, their edges fading into infinity. It was as if floating continents orbited an invisible pillar, forming an eternal staircase.
Ever since people first stepped foot into this Void Domain, they began their endless ascent. Tavern rumors and grand legends alike claimed that the end of the sky held truth and miracles.
Now, gazing up at the same sky countless great figures had once looked upon, Mithra’s mind was filled with one question.
“How did my island just… disappear?”
Was it a malfunction?
But she had never heard of a Void Domain island malfunctioning, not even artificial ones.
Countless doubts flashed through Mithra’s mind. She had originally planned to put on a good show for her future classmates.
After all, the Past Island didn’t just test strength—it also challenged participants’ intelligence.
Mithra had been counting on the chance to showcase her “clever tricks.”
“I remember the completion time was negative…” Mithra tapped her cheek thoughtfully.
The timer started when the challenger opened the envelope.
Even under ideal conditions, where the task was simple and high-ranking Ascenders completed it in the blink of an eye, the speed would only approach zero.
But what was this negative number?
Had the objective been completed before opening the envelope?!
Impossible! Even on the same island, the specific tasks were randomized each time, so pre-studying wouldn’t work in the Past Island.
What on earth was going on…? She turned to Viya, who had just emerged:
“You said you grabbed some dessert earlier—did you do anything else afterward?”
Mithra reviewed every action she’d taken after regaining consciousness in the island but couldn’t find an answer. She then shifted her focus to her teammate.
“I killed someone,” Viya said plainly.
“Oh, so it doesn’t seem like the issue was with you…” Mithra trailed off, then suddenly exclaimed:
“What did you say?!”
“I killed someone,” Viya repeated. “My intuition told me he was suspicious. Since I was already there, I figured it was just a small thing to take care of.”
Small thing?... Mithra didn’t know how to respond.
She seemed to have arrived at an awkward conclusion.
This was probably a typical Past Island scenario—a case from the past requiring challengers to follow clues and find the culprit.
But Viya had killed the “culprit” before the task officially began, resulting in an instant clearance.
“That… that’s pretty impressive, I guess.”
After much thought, Mithra could only muster this dry response.
She easily accepted Viya’s explanation because, in Mithra’s view, those who lived long in chaotic regions often developed extraordinary “intuition.”
It was a result of subconscious habits.
Still—
“This feels so anticlimactic,” Mithra sighed. “It ended so abruptly, without any real sense of accomplishment. It almost feels theatrical.”
“Like war?” Viya suddenly asked.
“War… why would you think of that?” Mithra pondered for a moment, then nodded in agreement:
“True. In literature, to depict the absurdity of war, authors often use a special technique. For example, on an ordinary afternoon, a little girl is rummaging through the ruins when an airplane flies overhead. Everyone assumes it’s about to bomb again, but instead, it announces the end of the war.”
“The camera zooms in on the girl’s helpless, numb eyes as she clutches the remains of her parents… The war ends suddenly, and so does her suffering, but she feels nothing.”
Mithra couldn’t help but praise:
“How did you come up with such a clever analogy?”
“A real-life case,” Viya replied with a nod.
“It seems you enjoy reading,” Mithra said, attributing the so-called real-life case to an autobiographical book.
Her wrist vibrated, and she glanced down to see the score on the small screen slowly increasing.
50
55
60
70
…
“It looks like we’ll get a decent score.”
Mithra was curious about how many points this situation would earn.
Hopefully, it’ll be a hundred—equivalent to completing a Lord’s Island for free.
She stared intently at her bracelet.
The numbers on the screen grew faster and faster, quickly surpassing three digits.
100
150
200
…
The exponential growth blurred the numbers, making them look like garbled text.
Soon, this long string of “garbled text” surpassed four digits, five digits, six digits, seven digits…
“BOOM—”
A sharp pain shot through her wrist, causing Mithra to instinctively frown. A click sounded, and black smoke billowed out of the bracelet, which then unlocked itself and fell to the ground.
“Broken… broken?”
Staring at the bracelet on the floor, occasionally sparking with magical currents, Mithra’s face was filled with disbelief.
Another click sounded, and another smoking bracelet dropped to the ground. Its screen flickered, occasionally revealing numbers still rising at a terrifying rate.
What now…? Mithra looked blankly at the source of all this chaos.
“…” Viya shrugged innocently and averted her gaze.
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Rothesia Academy, Glory District, Building Three.
A faint fragrance wafted around the office, unable to mask the heat generated by the machines inside.
A dozen professors bustled about the room, processing data from the practical exams.
On the left wall, a massive screen was embedded, accompanied by a strange-looking alchemical construct. Cables connected them, channeling endless information from the Magic Web into the central machine. On the large screen, hundreds of green dots represented the candidates’ physical conditions; when they completed their Void Domain exploration, the corresponding dots would dim.
“The thirty-six candidates I’m responsible for have all exited the Void Domain,” Monisha set down her pen, her face showing faint fatigue.
She placed the paper recording the candidates’ scores on the right side, weighted it down with a book, and rubbed her temples.
“I’ve still got three people left… Hmm, they’re out now,” another younger teacher said.
“I remember you’re handling Ascender candidates, right? How did they perform?” Monisha asked curiously.
“The usual—reckless, rigid, always thinking they’re special. They averaged 24 points. Not bad, I guess.”
The young teacher rolled their eyes, clearly unimpressed.
Monisha sipped her tea:
“They’ll improve after a few months of training in the academy.”
Time passed, and the green dots on the screen gradually disappeared. When the last two finally dimmed, Principal Haggai stood up to take charge of the scene.
“All right, hand over your score sheets,” Haggai tapped his fingers on the table, his expression stern.
One by one, the sheets were placed on the desk.
After hours of hard work, the teachers finally relaxed. They sat in their chairs, relieving their fatigue in various ways—some stared out the window, others conjured snowflakes on their fingertips, and some closed their eyes to rest.
Without exception, they remained silent, save for the faint hum of the alchemical construct reading data.
Once the data was processed, a sheet was printed.
Haggai calmly picked it up, drawing everyone’s attention.
They were all curious about the semester’s average score, which determined the quality of the new batch of candidates. In ideal cases, the average could reach eighty or so, though it sometimes dropped to the sixties during poor performances.
The teachers held their breath, watching Haggai intently.
This elderly, deeply experienced, and naturally authoritative principal revealed an expression no one expected after reading the report.
It wasn’t anger at a poor average, nor joy at an excellent score.
It was an expression of existential doubt, bordering on the absurd.
Under everyone’s watchful eyes, Haggai spoke slowly, word by word:
“This semester’s average score…”
“Seventeen million points?”
As soon as the words left his mouth, identical expressions appeared on every teacher’s face.
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