Chen Gang lowered his head, not saying a word.
Zhang Yi sighed, walked over, and clapped him hard on the shoulder.
"Head up, Gangzi."
Zhang Yi's expression was complex. He gazed in the direction Han Feng and the others had disappeared, the arrogance of a senior technician returning to his face.
"There's something uncanny about that Han Feng."
"But you must remember, maintenance and R&D are two completely different paths."
Chen Gang lifted his head, his eyes filled with confusion.
"He relies on Perception, on 'feel' for the work. To put it bluntly, he's just running on nebulous luck."
Zhang Yi's voice was low, but every word was a dagger to the heart.
"But R&D is about creating something from nothing!"
"It's cold, hard theory! Massive amounts of data! Logic refined to the point of absolute precision!"
"Relying on Intuition?"
"Can he draw a brand-new Spiritual Energy Circuit Map on Intuition alone?"
Zhang Yi extended a finger and tapped Chen Gang on the head.
"The project team—that's where you'll really be in your element."
"In the realm of knowledge, what does he have that can possibly compare to you?"
Little by little, the light began to return to Chen Gang's eyes.
'That's right!'
'Maintenance is just finding faults.'
'R&D is creation!'
'He might be able to fix a plane on Intuition, but could he design an engine from scratch the same way?'
"I understand, Teacher."
Chen Gang took a deep breath and clenched his fists, the dejection in his eyes completely swept away.
"Once I'm on the project team, I'll make him understand the true gap between us."
Zhang Yi finally broke into a gratified smile.
"That's the spirit!"
He may have lost face, but as long as he could crush Han Feng in R&D, he could repay today's humiliation twofold.
"Come on! Let's celebrate!"
Zhang Yi waved his arm grandly, doing his best to imitate the magnanimity Liao Ming had shown earlier.
An apprentice beside him asked cautiously, "Teacher, are we going to the second floor?"
"The second floor?"
Zhang Yi snorted, glancing in the direction Liao Ming's group had disappeared, his face full of disdain.
"That's where the nouveau riche go."
He pulled a shimmering silver card from his pocket and flicked it between his fingers, producing a sharp SNAP.
"A Spiritual Food Coupon, courtesy of a favor from a B Level Engineer."
"We... are going to the third floor."
"To eat a true High Tier Spiritual Meal!"
The apprentices' eyes lit up in an instant, their breathing becoming ragged.
The third floor!
The dishes there were supposedly all cooked with Tier Two Spiritual Materials. A single plate was worth a month of their living expenses!
"Teacher, you're incredible!"
"Now *that's* how you show some class!"
Listening to the flattery, Zhang Yi's wounded pride was finally soothed.
Even if his wallet was about to be annihilated, his dignity had to be reclaimed.
"Let's go!"
Zhang Yi led the group, heads held high and chests puffed out, toward the exclusive elevator for the third floor.
His retreating form had a hint of tragic grandeur to it, a dignity propped up by sheer force of will.
...
「Meanwhile, in a private room on the second floor of the East Sea Martial Arts University cafeteria.」
The atmosphere was so lively it threatened to blow the roof off the building.
In his left hand, Pang Hu held a glistening Iron Feather Bird leg; in his right, a saucy red Wind Wolf rib. His face was smeared with grease, but he still managed to raise his glass and mumble, "Fengzi! To you! Don't forget us when you get rich!"
Han Feng laughed, raising his glass of juice to clink with Pang Hu's. "Don't worry. With an appetite like that, how could I ever forget you?"
Xiaoli, meanwhile, was on his personal terminal, eyes gleaming as he ran some quick calculations. "Fengzi, I looked it up. If a C Level Technician takes a side hustle with an Outer City Mercenary Corps to repair a combat vehicle, the pay starts at..."
Zhou Wen quietly placed a piece of the tenderest fish belly onto Han Feng's plate. "Focus on getting into the project team first. Don't listen to that money-grubber. Your health is your most important asset."
Liao Ming sat at the head of the table, watching the vibrant group of young people, beaming from ear to ear.
After a few rounds of drinks, the mood settled.
Liao Ming put down his chopsticks, his expression turning serious.
"Han Feng, I've looked into Zhao Yu's project. It's meant to counter a new type of Flying Demon Beast from the Fog Area, and it's extremely difficult."
"The theory involved is much more profound than what we normally handle."
Han Feng nodded, his smile fading. "Don't worry, Director Liao. I know what I'm doing."
'And he certainly did.'
'Others relied on theory and data for R&D. He relied on his cheat.'
Seeing Han Feng's confidence, Liao Ming said no more and opened his terminal.
BEEP!
"Your stipend from last month, 1,500 points. It's been transferred."
"Now that you're on the project team, don't you dare embarrass me."
Han Feng's terminal lit up. Seeing the new numbers in his account, his smile grew even wider.
When the meal ended, Liao Ming announced they could have the afternoon off.
Pang Hu and the other two cheered, throwing their arms around each other's shoulders as they planned to go splurge at the virtual combat center.
Han Feng said his goodbyes and returned to his D Level dorm alone.
The dorm room was empty.
He drew the curtains and opened his personal terminal.
In his account were the 500 points from the assessment reward, plus the 1,500 points Liao Ming had just given him.
A total of 2,000 Contribution Points.
Without a moment's hesitation, he opened the university's internal store.
[Basic Level Qi Blood Potion: Rapidly restores 200 points of Qi Blood over 10 minutes. Price: 100 Contribution Points per vial.]
He placed an order for four vials.
400 Contribution Points vanished in an instant.
Looking at his remaining balance of 1,600 points, Han Feng's gaze became incredibly intense.
'This is enough for me to fly for more than an hour.'
Without the slightest hesitation, he changed into a faded, gray training uniform and walked out the door.
The maglev car glided silently along its track.
Inside the car, the refinement of the Inner City residents and the weariness of the Outer City laborers mingled, creating an invisible wall between them.
Han Feng leaned in a corner, opened his personal terminal, and sent a message to a contact saved as "Uncle Sun."
"Uncle Sun, it's Han Feng."
"Booking the 'Initial Training-3' for one hour. I'll be there in thirty minutes."
The reply was almost instantaneous, a single word.
"Done."
Han Feng put away his terminal and turned his gaze out the window.
The maglev car passed through a massive alloy gate, leaving the Spiritual Qi-rich Inner City behind.
The world outside the window instantly switched from a gleaming, glamorous metropolis to a drab, oppressive jungle of steel.
One wall, two different worlds.
This was the place where he had struggled to survive right after he'd transmigrated.
Every time he returned, it served as a reminder.
If he wanted to fly higher, he had to remember that he once came from the gutter.