Chapter Twenty-One: The Path of the Backboard Demon Begins

The evolutionary path of ordinary life forms is always extremely slow. Most evolutionary demands arise from the pressures of the natural environment, forcing living beings to adapt in order to survive rather than out of any subjective desire to evolve. The consequence is a passive process—when the environment undergoes drastic change, the advantages gained through long-term evolution can vanish in an instant. It’s much like updating a game: with every new version, the old champions are left behind—there’s simply no helping it.

The emergence of the Hunter System was intended to solve this problem. First, it virtualized the threat of death, ensuring that the user would not truly die, while still allowing them to experience the sensation of mortal peril, thus spurring evolution. Moreover, it offered precise evolutionary options, putting the direction of evolution under the user’s control. If, at this point, one could supplement with source energy, users could genuinely and rapidly evolve.

Without the aid of source energy, however, and with the system continually subjecting the host's cells to the threat of death—creating an acute need for evolution—the ultimate result could only be “devouring oneself.”

Yet Zhou Shu discovered something peculiar about his own mental attribute: while other attributes increased by only 0.01, his mental attribute would increase by 0.02. This seemed to be the norm, not a coincidence as he had first thought.

Even the Hunter hadn’t encountered such a state before. According to its fragmented data records, super soldiers should have physical attributes that grow the fastest, while mental attributes develop more slowly. Zhou Shu, however, was the opposite.

Could this be related to some unique trait of humanity? After all, humans, with too much time on their hands, imagine civilizations invaded by monsters, make movies for their peers to watch, and then earn money from it, only to make more films. Of course, given the incomplete data, it was hard to say if this was indeed the reason. It could also be due to Zhou Shu’s individual traits.

Fortunately, there was no sign of monster invasions in this world at present, so Zhou Shu’s need to improve his combat strength wasn’t urgent. The Hunter could afford to observe, record, and optimize at leisure.

Still, the absence of a monster invasion might be a mixed blessing. The benefit was obvious: at least human civilization on Earth remained safe. But without monsters, there was no source energy, and according to the limited data available, 1.37 units would not suffice.

Thus, the Hunter found itself troubled, or rather, its operational logic had hit a bottleneck—this was a situation it had never encountered before.

As for Zhou Shu, having grasped the basic technique of acquiring attributes and already experienced a round of the storyline, it was much simpler for him to re-enter the military camp. This time, he hesitated no more, nor was he troubled by the language barrier. He walked straight up to the familiar sentry, stated his purpose, and was promptly taken to Sergeant Farrell.

With the prior experience, he knew which plans worked and which did not, sparing himself from wasting time on redundant actions. At first, he’d thought ten lives were plenty, but after being blown up on the plane just now, he’d been forced to face reality—ten was hardly enough to act recklessly.

Given his limited source energy, he had to calculate carefully to make the most of every opportunity.

Because he acted decisively this time, he met Sergeant Farrell and “Tom” much earlier. They hadn’t even reached the barracks when he intercepted them. It was the same routine: volunteering to join, no identity, a promise of citizenship and perhaps hero status after the war—Zhou Shu was handed over to the sergeant again.

He also learned why the sentry brought him: a shortage of recruits was one reason, but more importantly, the sentry wasn’t responsible for such matters—Sergeant Farrell was.

After rejoining the official storyline, Zhou Shu noticed something odd about Tom this time: he seemed absent-minded, sometimes interrupting the sergeant, and his gaze toward Zhou Shu was somewhat off.

Then it dawned on Zhou Shu: his ten lives were being “saved and loaded” alongside the movie’s protagonist—this wasn’t just individual training. The first time, he’d passively entered the simulated battlefield, but didn’t count it, ordering Hunter to conceal his presence. His first active entry was what he considered the beginning.

Hunter had indeed obeyed, for last time, Tom clearly had no memory of him. This time, Tom’s eyes betrayed surprise; not only had Zhou Shu’s “save-load” journey begun, but so had Tom’s.

Soon, the sergeant led them into the barracks—still J Squad. Tom’s gaze grew even more peculiar. In his mind, Zhou Shu was just someone he’d met, and Zhou Shu’s conduct differed from last time, yet the events unfolding with J Squad and the sergeant were identical to his memory—how bizarre.

But since Tom still hadn’t figured things out, he was preoccupied with finding a way out. The “familiar” events occurring he could only chalk up to his own mental confusion.

After all, being a perfectly fine major and suddenly thrown into a frontline base as a second-class “deserter” would throw anyone off balance.

Back in the physical training session, Zhou Shu realized he already held an edge over “deserter” Tom—he could monitor Tom just like J Squad, neither the sergeant nor J Squad treated him as an outsider.

So Zhou Shu rolled his eyes, and quickly hatched a plan.

“Ah, ow!”

“Zhou, what’s wrong?” The members of J Squad hurried over, seeing Zhou Shu fallen from the horizontal bar.

With their help, Zhou Shu stood up, clutching his right wrist with his left and grimacing, “It gave out—I dropped and braced myself on the ground, might’ve twisted it. Hiss…”

“Go to the infirmary at once. I’ll ask the sergeant for leave on your behalf,” said Squad Leader Grave.

“Do you know where the infirmary is? Need me to have someone take you?”

“Thank you, Captain. I spotted the infirmary during our run—I can find my own way,” Zhou Shu replied politely.

“Alright, then.”

With a few words, Zhou Shu left the training ground alone. Tom, beside him, was dumbfounded—was it really that easy?

He, too, rolled his eyes, quickly coming up with a brilliant scheme.

“Ah, ow!”

“Private Cage, what are you doing? No slacking off!” Sergeant Farrell immediately roared at him.

Tom was stunned. This wasn’t how he’d envisioned the scenario, but still, clutching his hand, he said, “Sergeant Farrell, I—I think I’ve twisted my hand. I need to go to the infirmary.”

“Not a word you say can I believe, you bastard! Since you’re already on the ground, stay there—fifty push-ups, now!”

“Uh…”

By now, Zhou Shu had only walked a few paces, and naturally caught Tom’s little stunt.

The development caught him off guard—when it came to antics, Tom was still the master, no wonder he was the comic relief in this sci-fi action film.

Watching Tom begin his push-ups, Zhou Shu shook his head and left in high spirits.

“It’s good to have a decent reputation. I must’ve overthought things before—I can get away with any excuse and move freely in the recruit camp.”

“It makes sense, though. Humanity’s enemy is the ‘Mimic’ alien monster, whose appearance is so distinctive that infiltrating humans is impossible. The camp doesn’t need to be especially wary of humans.”

“Of course, rules still apply. Someone like Tom, branded a ‘deserter,’ is watched like a hawk, but a normal recruit like me has nothing to fear—especially given the current situation.”

Leaving the physical training ground, he quickly turned a corner and headed straight for the mechanical maintenance center.

The place was right next to the equipment depot—another steel world, with girders, containers, racks everywhere, and the star of the show: damaged powered exoskeleton suits.