Chapter 228

Chapter 228

*Whoosh!* The smart folding window slid open along its tracks, flooding the room with pale golden morning light that gilded half her body, nearly blinding in its brightness.

Eve calmly fastened the top button of her school uniform jacket, the high collar completely covering her slender neck. While First Empire Academy’s representative color was purple, both the school uniform and the team uniforms for major competitions were predominantly white. However, given that the team uniforms could change color to match the environment during combat, Eve didn’t dwell on why the school insisted on using the primary color of the neighboring Imperial Arts and Sciences Academy for their uniform designs.

After all, conflicts between the two schools extended far beyond this single issue.

As she clattered down the stairs, she strapped her terminal to her wrist. Her butler robot had been sent for repairs a few days ago, but fortunately, Eve wasn’t the type of hardcore cyber-junkie who couldn't function without robots or the StarNet. Without robotic assistance, she grabbed a bag of fruit-flavored nutrient solution from the fridge and headed out.

The league committee hadn’t disclosed the specific location of the supplementary league, only notifying participants to assemble at the port at a fixed time. From there, they would board official starships arranged in advance to travel uniformly to the league venue. Since the league teams had already been divided into Empire and Alliance factions, the group transportation also allowed the participating students some time for internal strategizing.

First Empire Academy had the most qualifiers for the supplementary league. The Five-School League had selected the top thirty contestants, and with the return of those who had participated in military training, there were a total of 35 spots. First Empire Academy alone secured 19 of them. To ensure the students’ safety during travel, the school had chartered buses in advance to take them to the assembly point.

Of the remaining 16 spots, Imperial Arts and Sciences took 5, Capital People's University 4, Imperial University of Science and Technology 4, and Blue Star Comprehensive 3. This distribution aligned with their overall rankings and perceived strength.

It remained unclear, however, whether gathering these students again so soon after the Five-School League would ultimately have a more positive or negative impact.

Eve left early, and when she arrived at the auditorium, aside from a few scattered staff members checking in for work, there was no one else—just as she’d planned.

With no other students around, the rows of dark-colored seats were empty. She found a secluded spot in the back row of the westernmost section, where she could easily see everyone entering but remained relatively hidden. Soon enough, the person she was waiting for arrived. A streak of fiery red hair appeared at the auditorium entrance. Eve nonchalantly pressed a button on the right side of the armrest, and the large silver screen at the front of the auditorium, which had been in standby mode, instantly lit up. A large red circle appeared on the screen, with bold black text indicating the seat number:

“Section C, Row 31, Seat 2.”

Isabella turned and saw Eve raising her hand, half her head visible above the seats, her silver hair shimmering under the overly bright chandelier lights. She gave a lazy wave and said, “Good morning, Senior.”

She had initially wanted to say “Ohayō, Senior,” but worried Isabella might not understand her humor, so she settled for a standard interstellar greeting instead.

“Good morning,” Isabella said, making her way across the rows of empty seats toward Eve. “It’s been a while. Time is tight, so let’s cut the small talk and get straight to business.”

Once she reached Eve, she pulled a small black box, no larger than a palm, from her coat. Flipping it open revealed a crystal panel resembling a fingerprint scanner, with a grain-sized indicator light embedded beside it, giving off an inexplicably cold vibe.

A gene collector.

Eve glanced at it and, without hesitation, pressed her fingerprint onto the panel. A blue light flashed, accompanied by a slight stinging sensation—not particularly sharp, just like a tiny needle prick.

The indicator light turned green, signaling the successful collection of her genes. She lifted her finger and turned her hand over, finding no visible wound.

“It uses a micro-needle for blood collection, taking only a tiny amount, so you don’t have to worry about us misusing your genes,” Isabella said, putting the collector away and slipping it into her pocket, letting it slowly transmit the genetic data to the other end. “Though you’re quite bold to voluntarily let the military collect your genes for a virtual model. Most people only do this when they think they’re about to die.”

To put it nicely, it was about leaving valuable personal genetic data for the Empire. To put it bluntly, it was like writing a will. Who in their right mind would think of creating a digital clone of themselves? Only those worried they might not return from battle would proactively apply to the military to leave their data behind, as a digital memorial for their loved ones if they died in combat.

Of course, the Empire hadn’t seen a large-scale war in many years, so this gene collection ritual was often performed during the inauguration ceremonies of high-ranking officers. Being entered into the Empire’s genetic database was considered an honor.

The current Legion Commanders and Deputy Legion Commanders had their genes collected during their inauguration ceremonies. Qin Mengde was an exception, as there was an unofficial rule in the military: gene collection only occurred during an officer’s highest-ranking appointment ceremony. The fact that she hadn’t had hers collected suggested that, in the military’s plans, she still had room for promotion.

Eve shifted to a more comfortable sitting position. “I’m still young, and my abilities have room to grow. I’ll have to do it eventually, so I might as well get familiar with the process early.”

So confident. Those who met the collection criteria were either high-ranking military officers or nobles with significant influence. While this standard likely meant little to Eve, Isabella couldn’t help but feel a bit irked by her straightforwardness.

She frowned imperceptibly. “More than that, I’m actually more curious about how you convinced my mother to pull strings for you... I didn’t find any record of your visit in the Cavendish family’s recent visitor logs.”

This meant that Frigga had agreed to collect Eve’s genes without any prior negotiation between them. Eve had simply submitted a request, and the military had approved it immediately. Given the relationship between the two sides, this was highly suspicious. At least from Isabella’s perspective, Frigga wasn’t the type to be so accommodating.

Eve replied, “It’s tuition.”

Isabella was momentarily confused. “What do you mean?”

“Literally, it’s prepaid tuition,” Eve said, not elaborating further since even Frigga wasn’t entirely clear on the details. “Your family is just paying on someone else’s behalf.”

The First Princess had agreed to let Ling Ling study under Lu Qing. Eve had given her two options: one was to nominally find a teacher just to avoid the royal succession struggle, and the other was for Ling Ling to genuinely learn Alchemy from her. The First Princess had chosen the second option.

If it were merely a nominal exchange of interests, a simple gesture would suffice. But if she wanted Ling Ling to learn real skills, the First Princess had to offer some “tuition.” Helping Eve with the gene collection was one of the conditions.

From the First Princess’s perspective, “Lu Qing” had explained that she wasn’t interested in the league and had delegated a classmate to compete on her behalf. For Frigga’s side, the First Princess personally handled the explanation. This league, like the third round of the Five-School League, used a combination of simulation systems and real environments to construct the competition grounds. The entire league planet was essentially a massive simulated combat chamber. Once the data was collected, it would be transmitted directly to the Fourth Legion, which was responsible for the competition. All three parties received limited perspectives, making it easier for Eve to muddy the waters and conceal her dual identity.

Coincidentally, the Fourth Legion was under Qin Mengde’s command, bringing the narrative full circle to the original question of “why Lu Qing chose to collaborate with Eve instead of someone else”—if you want to pull strings, it’s fastest to deal with the person with the most connections.

In the eyes of the First Princess, this young Alchemist who dared meddle in royal affairs was capable of anything. A small transaction with the Chief Princess’s aide was nothing in comparison.

Isabella had never been fond of such opportunistic behavior. Seeing that Eve had no intention of explaining further, she felt a surge of displeasure and pride.

“Suit yourself,” she said coldly. “Just coordinate with Qin Mengde and make sure you don’t embarrass yourself in front of the entire Empire.”

“Her Highness no longer goes by that name. Out of respect for the royal family, you should use her current name,” Eve retorted teasingly. “Don’t you have a cousin who’s the Crown Prince? Aren’t you afraid he’ll get jealous if he hears you using the old name?”

Frigga’s private support of Qin Mengde had already displeased the Empress. If Anthony found out Isabella was still using the old name for her in private, it could cause an uproar.

Isabella clearly remembered how terrifying her aunt could be when angered. Her face fell immediately, and without even acknowledging Eve’s teasing, she turned and left.

Soon, as the official gathering time approached, other students began trickling into the auditorium. The last to arrive was Luo Wenqing, who looked like she hadn’t fully woken up, yawning as she entered.

“What were you up to last night?” Eve, who had been listening to Jessica boast, couldn’t help but ask as Luo Wenqing approached.

“Playing games. Accidentally stayed up until dawn,” Luo Wenqing said, though the “accidentally” was clearly an exaggeration. She showed no remorse. “In the legion, I used to play games late at night to combat insomnia, and now I’ve accidentally developed a gaming addiction. Games are terrifying. Can I lean on your shoulder and sleep for a bit once we’re on the bus?”

“......”

Could this person be any more shameless?

“No, students from the same department should sit together,” Jessica said, eyeing Luo Wenqing warily, clearly aware of her reputation for appreciating beauty. “Besides, Senior, aren’t you from the medical department?”

“What’s the big deal? Aren’t we all classmates?” Luo Wenqing brushed off her attitude and turned to Eve with a meaningful smile, drawing out her words. “Besides, our department’s Chief is so cold. As a human pillow, how could she compare to Chief Eve? Hmm... What do you think, Junior Eve?”

Wasn’t this a threat?!

Eve’s eyelid twitched violently. Before Jessica could retort, she decisively ended the provocation: “Jessica, why don’t you go sit with Liz? She’s probably lonely sitting alone, and you two get along well. Keep her company!”

“Hey? Eve, you—!”

Under Jessica’s disbelieving gaze, Luo Wenqing laughed heartily, slung an arm over Eve’s shoulder, her drowsiness completely gone, and triumphantly walked off with her.

Once they reached the entrance, she turned to Eve, who wore a stern expression, and winked playfully, lowering her voice. “Don’t look at me like that. I really brought you aside to talk. Aren’t you the least bit curious about the Alliance group?”