Chapter Nine: I Want to Be a Scientist

On the entire panel, only the "Mind" attribute seemed to have a faint connection to intelligence, and it was the only one with a plus sign, indicating that Zhou Shu could allocate points to it.

This left him scratching his head. If he couldn't add points to intelligence, how was he supposed to become a super scientist?

He remembered how, as a child, being a scientist had been his dream, making his grandparents so proud and happy! But as he grew older, he came to understand what reality meant, and realized he hadn't been wrong in calling it a "dream." Even though he came from another world, he still couldn't compare to those legendary scientists. In fact, they seemed more like true transmigrators than he did—ones who even had their own systems.

The more information he absorbed growing up, the clearer it became that he would never be a super scientist. Even becoming a second-rate scientist seemed unlikely, so he decided to approach his childhood dream from another direction.

Maybe through comedy... No, through art.

He studied art in high school, then aimed for an industrial design major in college. Ideally, he'd get into the Imperial University of Science and Technology's industrial design program, and after graduation, design slick exteriors for scientists' research achievements.

All his life, he'd noticed that domestic scientists seemed to care only about performance, indifferent to the look of their creations—as long as they worked, that was enough. Some technologies were already veering into the "sci-fi" realm, but their appearances were anything but futuristic, even a little rustic.

It wasn't just the exteriors; the packaging lacked care too. Wrapping naval electromagnetic cannons in tricolor striped cloth—sure, it showed combat readiness, but it looked so ugly.

To Zhou Shu, aesthetics were part of combat power. Precision technology was beyond him, so he resolved to excel in aesthetics.

Now, his own looks were more than adequate. Despite wearing glasses, his temperament and appearance weren't suppressed—he even gained a touch of scholarly... no, gentlemanly charm.

He was handsome enough, and after studying, he intended to bring that handsomeness to industrial products.

Facing reality, his dream became much more reasonable, and progress was promising. He ranked first in art in his class, had already participated in the provincial art exam and the entrance exam for his preferred university before the New Year, and his provincial results were excellent—he could choose almost any art-focused school locally.

As long as his academic scores passed the threshold.

He would soon be able to check his university entrance exam results, and as for his most coveted Imperial University of Science and Technology industrial design major, by his estimation, he should be... just about there.

After that, it would depend on academic scores again.

Dongyuan No. 1 High School was a comprehensive high school with classes in science, arts, sports, and arts—art classes were further divided into fine arts, vocal music, dance, and so on.

His academic scores were decent too—first in his class, though his total ranking in the senior year for liberal arts... well, not in the top fifty.

Studying art took up time otherwise devoted to academic subjects.

Of course, his poor English scores were a major reason.

Except for English, his grades in other subjects were really good; otherwise, he wouldn't be at the top of his class.

He had checked the previous years' cutoff scores for Imperial University of Science and Technology's industrial design major, and if he performed steadily, he was likely... probably... eighty percent sure—he'd be fine.

If his art scores could rise a bit more, he'd be in the clear.

But the problem was, they just wouldn't budge.

He also knew that to be a super scientist, he needed English, since the Great Qin Empire had missed the first industrial revolution, and by the time it tried to catch up, the second was already underway. To catch up, foreign technology had to be learned.

Though translated materials were available, the most accurate and cutting-edge information came from abroad, hot off the presses, so to learn it, he had to first understand their language.

Because he never managed to learn English well, he gave up on his dream of being a super scientist.

That was his path before he got a "golden finger." In recent years, as domestic tech products' aesthetics improved rapidly, it proved he'd chosen well.

But now, with a golden finger, his dream of being a super scientist was rekindled.

Yet, he couldn't find an option to add points to intelligence on the attribute panel.

What kind of nonsense was this?

He’d read plenty of online novels where the settings allowed protagonists to add points to intelligence... though even those who did often ended up relying on brute force.

According to the system, its purpose was to cultivate super warriors and assist them; cultivating super scientists wasn't in its job description.

This made Zhou Shu somewhat disheartened, even making him feel that the system’s localized name had become a silly, clunky name—not pleasant, memorable, or easy to pronounce. He suspected the system was just padding its stats, so a name change was in order.

Given its current function—as an assistant system for monster-hunting super warriors—he figured it was much like hunters tracking animals. So why not call it the "Hunter System," or for short, "Little Hunter"?

This was Zhou Shu's stubbornness as a user!

If he’d been in a typical fantasy or martial arts world, one where survival depended on force, a system like this would send him soaring.

But he lived on Earth, in the age of science and technology, where the "monster wars" Little Hunter understood were just works of entertainment in the human world.

No monsters meant no source energy. Even if he put all his 1-plus points into agility, making his reaction speed astonishing—able to dodge a shooter’s movements and nearly “dodge bullets”—someone just had to press a button and he’d still be obliterated by a missile.

Not even a heavy missile with a nuclear warhead—just a small missile, an RPG, or a grenade exploding nearby, and he’d be riddled with shrapnel.

Even if he could dodge a few bullets, with several guns pointed at him, he’d still be killed in a hail of fire.

Compared to other countries, the Great Qin Empire was a very peaceful place; boosting combat power here would probably just get him watched by the Six Gates’ police.

Foreign countries were chaotic, but was it really necessary to leave home just to practice martial arts?

And who would choose to leave a good life—food, drink, entertainment—only to chase after war and chaos?

So in this tech age, being a super scientist was still the way to go.

Unfortunately, the golden finger just wasn’t up to it.

Hunter System: [……]

Well, Zhou Shu didn’t stay disappointed for long. No matter what, Little Hunter was still a “golden finger.”

Since it was here, it deserved some respect.

If he couldn’t be a super scientist, boosting his physical stats to become a super athlete wasn’t a bad option. It didn’t have to be about fighting.

Plus, he hadn’t tested the limits of the Hunter System yet. Maybe with further research, he’d find another path?

“Can a system meant to cultivate super warriors really not cultivate a super scientist?”

Until he fully understood the true function of this assistant system, Zhou Shu decided to keep an open mind.

After all, that famous blue pill was a case in point: scientists originally intended it to treat heart disease, but since it wasn’t effective, the project was nearly scrapped. Who could have guessed it would shine in a completely different arena?

So he focused on the two values with plus signs: Mind and Constitution.

He wanted to see if increasing Mind would be equivalent to increasing Intelligence.

But he was still in class. Would boosting Mind cause some strange phenomenon?

Like making the whole class faint, objects levitating, or a massive explosion?

Staring.jpg

"……"

Well, 0.91 was still a ways from the general human limit he estimated—1. Further still from the genius limit. The increment, 0.02, was small. Adding it would probably not cause any unusual events.

Those dramatic scenarios he’d imagined would at least require someone like Professor X or Magneto—people who could pull off such feats.

Magneto certainly wouldn’t fear bullets, bombs, or missiles, but to reach that level, Zhou Shu guessed attributes of at least 5 or 10 might be needed—or maybe even 100.

For Mind, the comparison was more to Professor X. That would require not just high stats, but perhaps a head full of hair.

He touched his own hair and decided to try.

His Mind attribute was so low, he shouldn’t lose any hair.

He acted immediately and said inwardly, “Little Hunter, raise Mind to the limit.”

Once he issued the command, he saw Mind go from 0.91 to 0.93, and then he suddenly shivered.

And that was it—just a single twitch.

If anything changed, it was simply that his mind felt much clearer after increasing the Mind attribute.