Gao Yang closed his eyes.
[Entering System]
[You have gained 61 new Luck Points]
Roughly what he'd calculated. Forty-eight hours meant forty-eight points. The doubled gains from Pang Jun's ambush added another thirteen or so.
—I want to draw a talent.
[Comprehending a new talent requires 30 Luck Points. Confirm?]
—Confirm!
[Comprehending...]
[Comprehending...]
[Comprehension Failed]
—Damn! That's harsh! This difficult?
[To comprehend again: 30 Luck Points]
—Swindler! Fine. Remaining 31 points, dump them all into Luck.
—Interview's coming up. Every edge matters.
[Allocation successful. Luck: 132]
[Congratulations! Bonus: 20 permanent flexible attribute points]
—Then add more Luck.
[Infinite recursion prohibited]
—Fine. Let me think... Charm.
[Allocate 20 points to Charm. Confirm?]
—Confirm. Only twenty points—other stats won't show meaningful improvement. Better to boost first impressions.
[Stamina: 27 | Endurance: 28]
[Strength: 17 | Agility: 27]
[Mental: 37 | Charm: 39]
[Luck: 132]
[Session ended. System concealed]
[Beep—]
Gao Yang opened his eyes, turning to Qing Ling. "Does my face look different?"
She gave him a cursory glance. "No."
He pressed on: "Look closer. There should be changes. More spirited eyes. Sharper jawline. Smoother skin..."
"Thicker skin," she said.
This woman has no aesthetic sense. Forget it. Not worth the argument.
Gao Yang inhaled deeply, straightened his collar, and strode into the arcade.
Before him: a twenty-square-meter storefront. Two rows of vintage cabinets lined the walls, their screens cycling through lurid attract modes, washing the dim space in retro fluorescent camouflage. Overhead, a ceiling fan turned lazily, creaking occasionally with each rotation.
A young man sat in the corner, absorbed in his game.
Gao Yang and Qing Ling exchanged glances. He stepped forward. "Hello. We're here for the interview."
No response. No hostility either.
Gao Yang approached for a better look. The man was playing Knights of Valour, Zhuge Liang selected, Ice Sword equipped, exploiting a bug to infinitely freeze the final boss Cao Cao.
Damn. Youngsters these days have no martial ethics.
The gamer appeared slight, dressed head-to-toe in studded leather. His hair was shaved at the sides with a tall strip down the middle, bleached bright yellow. Classic broom cut. His chest, nape, and arms were covered in tattoos—bizarre abstract designs. Though Gao Yang did recognize one: a hairdryer-shaped pig's head.
"Aaagh—"
Cao Cao screamed in-game, health bar depleted. Game clear.
The youth remained seated, looking up at him. "Just you?"
Gao Yang felt somewhat deflated. He'd just invested twenty points in Charm—shouldn't that command basic respect?
"And me." Qing Ling spoke.
The young man craned his neck, spotted her behind Gao Yang, and immediately perked up.
"Well, well! A beauty!" He sprang to his feet, running both hands through his broom cut with elaborate, theatrical flair. "You two, then."
"And me?"
Officer Huang entered through the blue curtain. "Apologies for the delay. Haven't started?"
"We just arrived," Gao Yang said.
Officer Huang was deferential toward Broom Cut: "Allow me to introduce. This is tonight's interviewer, Mr. Wu Dahai."
Broom Cut stuck his hands in his pockets, assuming an insouciant posture. "Brother Hai works."
"These are new companions—Gao Yang and Qing Ling." Officer Huang smiled. "I lost my last challenge, so I'm bringing backup this time. No objections?"
"None. But lose tonight, and don't darken my door again this month." Wu Dahai's tone was imperious.
"Agreed."
"Let's begin." Qing Ling raised her hand; a Tang dao materialized in her grip.
"Whoa, that's some hardware! Retractable too!" Wu Dahai's eyes lit up. "Not yours, is it? Where'd you get it?"
"None of your concern." Qing Ling assumed a combat stance.
"Beauties are so cold!" Wu Dahai wasn't angered, digging lazily at his ear. "You three—who's first?"
"I'll go," Officer Huang said.
"Fine. Old rules—three challenges!" Wu Dahai spread his arms. "Choose freely. Defeat me three times, you pass."
"Choose what?" Qing Ling asked.
Officer Huang smiled. "Forgot to mention—the interview is an arcade competition. Any three cabinets. Beat him, you're in. I've challenged several times already. Lost every time. You're young; gaming should be your forte. Much better odds this round."
"Officer Huang, when you said you were weak, you meant... gaming?" Gao Yang was incredulous.
"Yes."
Qing Ling frowned, genuinely perplexed: "Why not simply kill this idiot?"
"Hahahahaha... Kill me?" Wu Dahai laughed until breathless. "Beauty, you understand nothing of power! I'm giving you a chance! Don't refuse face when offered! If we actually fought—forget all three of you together..."
Wu Dahai shouted: "Even one at a time, I couldn't beat any of you!"
Gao Yang broke into a cold sweat. Was this the legendary "most arrogant delivery of the most cowardly lines"?
Wu Dahai was quite pleased with himself: "Hmph, this bro isn't combat-type. Obviously can't compare. But harm one hair on my head, and the organization has plenty of heavy hitters to handle you."
"Enough, enough. We're all Awakened. Harmony above all, no infighting." Officer Huang hastily mediated. "I'll start. I choose shmup."
He seated himself at a cabinet, inserting a coin. Wu Dahai joined him, coin ready.
Gao Yang approached to observe. Strikers 1945. This game was practically his childhood nightmare—one coin, minutes of life, death. He despised scrolling shooters.
Officer Huang and Broom Cut each selected fighters and entered together.
"Old rules. Three lives available, but match is single-life. No bombs. First death loses."
"No problem."
Game start.
Stage one: simple. Sparse bullet patterns. Both cleared easily, maxed their firepower.
Stage two: bullet density intensified. No bombs for screen clearance, pure dodging required. Pressure mounted. Both weaved, movements agile.
Stage three: the competition clearly heated.
Officer Huang possessed the Gun God talent; shooting games should offer synergy. He remained composed, operations precise, finger reactions crisp.
Facing the stage three boss, Officer Huang abandoned offense entirely. His strategy was transparent: let the boss's bullet hell eliminate Wu Dahai.
Wu Dahai's control was nimble too, but desperation showed—outputting damage frantically while dodging curtains.
Officer Huang controlled the joystick one-handed, cigarette in the other, purely evading.
That pose. Full marks.
Amid intense bullet hell, Wu Dahai's fighter fell. Officer Huang released his controls—his own ship destroyed the instant he let go. He'd outlasted Wu Dahai by exactly one second.
He stood. "Concession accepted."
"Hmph. You're only good at shmups." Wu Dahai was somewhat petulant. "Continue, continue."
"You two next," Officer Huang said.
"Weren't you playing well?" Gao Yang asked.
"Can't. I've challenged everything." Officer Huang smiled bitterly. "Besides shmups, he crushes me at every other game."
"Next. Who's up?" Wu Dahai asked.
Gao Yang and Qing Ling exchanged glances. She spoke flatly: "I will."
---