Otaku Translation: Literary Genius: This Kid Was Born Smart C154

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Chapter 154:

"With Her Eyes," "," "," "Full Spectrum Barrage Jamming." Just from the titles, Zhu Xiang found two that piqued his interest.

He decided to read them in order. The first story began with a strong opening—the protagonist, "I," was asking the director for leave.

"So, what’s the cost?" Zhu Xiang mused aloud, half-wishing he could take a break and go chase poetry and fields himself. For the protagonist, the price of the journey was carrying a pair of "eyes."

[The so-called "eyes" referred to a . When you wore it, everything you saw would be transmitted via ultra-high-frequency waves to another person wearing the same device, allowing them to see through your perspective as if they were there with you.]

"This must be the core concept of this piece," Zhu Xiang thought. Compared to other soft sci-fi works that often delved into soul technology, this felt a bit underwhelming.

But even the most advanced tech descriptions were useless without substance. This compact setting unfolded methodically in the short story—I carried the "eyes" and traveled around.

Zhu Xiang recalled : If a gun appears in the first act, it must fire by the third. As he read, he noticed how the character seemed to cherish every detail of the world intensely.

She gave names to every flower "I" encountered, interrupting my sleep just to gaze at the moon, her enthusiasm bordering on obsession.

And then—the gun fired!

She was the sole survivor of the , a subterranean exploration vessel venturing deep into . Trapped thousands of kilometers below the surface, her ship was encased in rock, unable to move.

Most crucially, she was the only one left alive…

Her fellow crewmates had sacrificed their lives to complete the mission, transmitting the navigation logs back to the surface before perishing.

Zhu Xiang hadn’t expected this "gunshot" to turn out to be a machine gun!

The ship’s hull, made of neutron material, could withstand the immense pressure of Earth’s core. Its life support system would last another fifty to eighty years—her entire remaining life—trapped in a control room no larger than ten square meters.

To make matters worse, the neutrino communication device had run out of power. This meant the few days I spent traveling with the sensory visor were her final glimpses of the surface world.

No wonder she named every flower. No wonder she cried when she couldn’t look at the moon in time. No wonder…

Her last recorded message ended with: "I’ve adapted to life here now. It doesn’t feel cramped or closed off anymore. The whole world revolves around me. When I close my eyes, I can still see the vast grasslands above, and every flower I named. Goodbye."

"I… wasn’t prepared for this," Zhu Xiang muttered, genuinely blindsided.

The most terrifying thing wasn’t death—it was ultimate isolation. Being trapped alone in a place where temperatures reached five thousand degrees Celsius, with no air, no companionship, and nothing but memories to sustain her for the rest of her life while completing her research.

"Isn’t this too cruel? Why did her last chance to see the surface have to be on a rainy morning without a sunrise?"

That day, rain clouds obscured the sky, denying her even a glimpse of an ordinary sunset, something people took for granted every day.

Zhu Xiang felt a pang in his chest. "Closing her eyes to see the grasslands… living off memories for decades to come. This author is ruthless."

He glanced at the name of the contributor—.

"A familiar name," Zhu Xiang murmured. "Come to think of it, there was that rising fairy tale writer recently… also named Gu Lu. Surely not the same person?"

Regardless, Zhu Xiang turned to the remaining three submissions. He couldn’t deny feeling nervous. Were all of these going to cut deep?

At the same time, he couldn’t help but feel excited. As an editor at , discovering standout works was always a thrill. This particular piece—a quintessential example of soft sci-fi—blended speculative elements seamlessly into a poignant human story.

Wiping the corner of his eye, Zhu Xiang moved on to the next submission, For the Benefit of Mankind. Suddenly, a thought struck him. "Why a instead of an astronaut? If the setting were swapped to space, it wouldn’t feel out of place."

"But somehow, being on the same planet yet completely cut off creates a different kind of impact. Being buried under layers of earth feels like being squeezed inside a tin can—a suffocating sensation far more visceral than floating in the vacuum of space."

Perhaps it was collective cultural memory tied to burials. Both scenarios involved suffocation, but being buried alive evoked a deeper, more personal discomfort.

"Even just from this one setup, Gu Lu—this guy knows how to manipulate emotions."

After taking some time to finish reading all four pieces, Zhu Xiang arrived at a single conclusion: Science Fiction World had stumbled upon a hidden gem. Who would’ve thought someone this talented still existed in the wild during these times?

Famous writers usually submitted directly through internal channels, but finding such raw talent required bringing this to the attention of the chief editor. Regular writers followed the magazine’s standard three-step review process, but exceptions were made for exceptional cases.

Bursting into the chief editor’s office, Zhu Xiang wanted to witness firsthand how the knives would pierce even the boss’s heart!

Knives didn’t disappear—they simply transferred. That’s why was considered a healing anime and a perfectly satisfying masterpiece.

Speaking of which, this world hadn’t seen To Live yet…

---

Outside the classroom.

By the edge of the playground.

There weren’t fields stretching endlessly toward the horizon, but looking at the students scattered about, each one a budding flower of the nation’s future, they were far more interesting than blades of grass.

The question remained: when exactly was the future arriving?

"Why are we suddenly frog-jumping two laps today? Did lose his mind?" Tian Xiao wheezed, his words coming out in broken gasps.

Old Black was the nickname of the gym teacher—a fitting moniker given his imposing physique. Gym teachers in grades 10 and 11 tended to be in peak condition.

"I don’t know…" Over the past few months, Gu Lu’s body had grown significantly stronger, with noticeable muscle development in his arms and legs.

But after one lap of frog jumps, his thighs burned painfully. At first, Gu Lu had managed to keep his movements precise, hands clasped behind his back. Now, he resembled less of a disciplined athlete and more of a clumsy toad.

Stretching would be critical tonight—he was already thinking about how to alleviate tomorrow’s soreness.

Gu Lu and Tian Xiao lagged behind in the fourth group. Many classmates, seizing moments when the gym teacher wasn’t watching, resorted to crawling on all fours.

At first, they tried to maintain appearances—but eventually, reverting to quadrupedal movement felt natural, almost instinctual.

The inner track of ’s field was a standard 400 meters. A leisurely jog around it wouldn’t tire anyone out, but frog jumps were a different story entirely.

"Holy crap, why are they fighting?" Someone ahead exclaimed, stopping abruptly. Tian Xiao, head down and focused on hopping, nearly collided face-first with someone’s rear end.

"Fighting? What fight?" Tian Xiao snapped his head up.

Looking forward, it wasn’t quite a fight yet—more like a scuffle. Lü Ping and Zeng Jie were shoving each other aggressively. Judging by their expressions, if no one intervened, things would escalate quickly.

Seeing the commotion, Old Black hurried over. "What’s going on? No fighting!"

He swiftly pulled the two apart. While Zeng Jie and Lü Ping were both physically imposing, they were no match for the muscular gym teacher.

Lü Ping remained silent. Old Black turned to Zeng Jie. "You’re usually talkative. Tell me, what happened?"

Zeng Jie clenched his jaw, refusing to speak. Left with no choice, Old Black questioned nearby students to piece together the story.

"So, Lü Ping was the one who started it?" Old Black concluded—an adult’s verdict.

From the students’ perspective, though, Lü Ping had playfully bumped into Zeng Jie during the frog jumps, hoping to mend fences the way boys often did.

The problem? Zeng Jie was already simmering with anger. The bump lit the fuse, sparking the altercation.

"Lü Ping, apologize to Zeng Jie," Old Black declared bluntly. "Then get back to jumping."

"Sorry, Zeng Ha'er," Lü Ping muttered unenthusiastically.

The once tight-knit friendship between Ma Xuanyou, Lü Ping, Zeng Jie, and Li Guyuan—forged during military training—was clearly fraying.

Ever since Guyuan defected and Ma Xuanyou got preoccupied cooking with the girls from the food club (as Zeng Jie put it), the quartet had drifted apart.

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