"Where is this?" Jett Gale stared intently at the scroll, becoming more and more entranced. In a trance, he felt as if he had been transported back to Star City High.

  It appeared to be break time, with students streaming endlessly back and forth.

  Amidst the bustling crowd, a clear thread of discussion drifted into Jett's ears.

  "Have you heard? The results for the mid-term exams are out."

  "Really?"

  "You bet. The ones at the top of the grade are still those same few geniuses. But some of the so-called prodigies who were acting all high and mighty before? Who knows where they've fallen to now. It’s a complete disaster!"

  "Who are you talking about?"

  "Oh, come on, it's obviously that..." As he spoke, the gossiping student glanced around warily, his gaze locking directly with Jett's inquiring eyes. A look of awkwardness flashed across the student's face, and he hurriedly grabbed his companion, dragging him away from Jett. "Shh... keep it down. You can't just say whatever you want. If you get entangled with him, you'll be in big trouble."

  Jett wrinkled his nose slightly, vaguely guessing that they were talking about him. Since the start of the school year, he had been constantly challenging people all over the place—not just the top-ranked students in his own grade, but even many seniors from the second year. In fact, as early as the first day of school, during his "Battle at the Cafeteria Entrance" with Fly Ansel, he had already shot to fame in a single stroke. Although... it was fame earned as the loser.

  Because of his fearless, challenge-happy attitude, his classmates had privately given him the nickname "Madman Jett." The rumors spread further and grew more bizarre, with many students believing he was a "genuine lunatic" who wanted to fight at the drop of a hat. Consequently, most students gave him a wide berth, terrified of getting entangled with him and wanting nothing to do with him. Jett knew all of this, but he simply didn't care.

  Hearing the discussion of those two students just now, he suspected they were discussing him. How could that be? He thought to himself. How could my mid-term exam results have tanked completely?

  Just then, the voices of those two students drifted over from the distance again.

  "Nowadays, in this era where martial arts are revered by all, the Beast Warriors are the most noble profession in every walk of life. These days, if you want to get anything done, it's really hard if you don't have a Beast Warrior in the family or some connection to one."

  "Exactly. Some people have parents who are ordinary workers, yet they rely on their unique talent and unremitting effort to carve out a bloody path for themselves. And then there are others... their father is a great warrior renowned throughout the city, yet they themselves are disappointments, destined to fade into mediocrity..."

  Hearing these words, Jett no longer had any doubts. He confirmed they were talking about him and immediately decided to go over and demand an explanation.

  But suddenly, the scenery before his eyes shifted, and he found himself standing in front of a bulletin board. Many students were gathered around it, pointing and whispering incessantly.

  Curiosity piqued, Jett pushed his way through the crowd with both hands. There, boldly written on the bulletin board, were the words: "Mid-term Exam Grade Rankings."

  Jett's eyes scanned from the top down.

  "First Place: Fly Ansel. Second Place: Valerius Tarantino. Third Place: Genevieve..."

  Seeing this, Jett paused for a moment, thinking: They are as stable as ever. How long will it take for me to catch up to them?

  Thinking of this, Jett's cheeks began to burn with a flush of shame. Losing to 'Emperor' Valerius and Genevieve was one thing, but in terms of family background, his was more than just a little bit better than Fly's.

  But the gap in talent was like the difference between clouds and mud—worlds apart.

  After the Power Assessment Test and the Freshman Invitational, Jett had already acknowledged Fly's strength. But privately, whenever he thought about it, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of unwillingness.

  "Phew, it's fine," Jett exhaled, beginning to comfort himself. "Even if I can't compare to Fly and the others, with my talent and resources, if I work hard, I might still have a chance to enter one of the eight elite universities of The Tulip League in the future!"

  But what he never expected was...

  His eyes scanned past the list of the top ten, yet he surprisingly did not find his own name!

  "No me?"

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  "I'm not in the top ten?"

  A sense of absurdity instantly enveloped him. His eyes widened, staring incredulously at the rankings before him.

  His gaze continued to scan downward.

  He wasn't in the top twenty.

  He wasn't in the top thirty.

  Top forty, top fifty, top sixty... none of them held his name.

  Jett Gale's name seemed not to belong here at all, as if it had never existed.

  His expression gradually shifted from initial confusion and bewilderment to sheer terror.

  How is this possible!

  He had always been training hard in the Martial Dao. His father was a prestigious Beast Warrior. His Grade Director, Dean Sterling, was his private tutor, costing a massive sum of eight thousand buck per lesson!

  With so much thought and so many resources poured into him, how could he fail to reach even the top sixty in the grade?

  Star City High's spots for the eight elite universities of The Tulip League were limited each year.

  If he couldn't even break into the top sixty, what point was there in talking about the eight elite universities?

  The more he thought about it, the more despair Jett felt.

  However, what made him even more desperate was...

  The top seventy, top eighty... even within the top one hundred, his name was nowhere to be found.

  Not just the eight elite universities—even the slightly better martial arts universities were now out of his reach!

  "Impossible! Impossible!"

  "Impossible!"

  Jett squatted down violently, clutching his head, feeling the world spin around him. At this moment, he only wanted to rush into Dean Sterling's office and demand answers. Why was his name not in the top one hundred? Was there a mistake? Was someone targeting him?

  But the moment this thought arose, he felt a wave of weakness in his limbs. Breathing became difficult, and everything before his eyes began to blur.

  Then, his legs gave way, and his entire body pitched straight forward.

  An abyss!

  He had fallen into a bottomless abyss!

  His body kept falling, dropping endlessly.

  His father's twisted face floated before his eyes. "A piece of trash like you... what right do you have to be my son?"

  "Your old man is such a hero, who would have thought his son would be such a spineless coward? It is truly a case of a tiger father begetting a dog son!"

  "A disgrace to the family! A disgrace!"

  ...

  Such words circled ceaselessly around Jett's ears.

  Finally, his vision went black, and he fainted right there on the stage of the exhibition.

  Standing beside Jett, 'Emperor' Valerius also began to lose his footing, retreating again and again, moving away from the scroll.

  "Hah... hah..." Valerius gasped for air, his elegant curls long since drenched in sweat.

  "Brother... damn it... Brother, why can I still not defeat you? Must I always follow behind you, remaining a shadow for my entire life?" Valerius clenched his fists, speaking with deep unwillingness.

  Staff members came onto the stage, carrying Jett away on a stretcher and gently supporting Valerius to the rest area.

  Seeing this, the students below the stage felt even more apprehensive.

  If geniuses like 'Emperor' Valerius and Jett Gale couldn't hold on, what made them think they could survive the trial?

  Meanwhile...

  Inside Lance Wolfe's Sea of Consciousness.

  He was desperately chasing after Preston York.

  "Preston York! As long as I pass this trial, I can become Grandmaster Muse's personal disciple!"

  "From now on, I will never lose to you again!"

  "When we get to Harford University, I will be the right-hand man that Senior Lysander Thorne trusts the most!"

  Lance roared, seeming to vent all the frustration he had suffered over his three years of high school in one go!

  However, no matter how he shouted in his delirium, Preston York remained silent, simply walking leisurely ahead.

  "Damn it, you bastard! Don't look down on people!"

  Lance desperately quickened his pace, wanting to run in front of Preston, wanting to surpass him completely, wanting to make him hear the screaming of his heart.

  But the harder he tried, the wider the distance between him and Preston grew.

  The feeling was as if he were exhausting all his strength chasing an illusion, a dream that could never be touched.

  "Damn it!"

  Lance gritted his teeth. Since high school began, he had defeated countless opponents and crossed hurdle after hurdle to reach his current position.

  But... was this Preston York truly a mountain he could never cross?

  "Vice-President Lance, what are you waiting for?"

  Suddenly, a young voice drifted into his ears.

  "Damn it, I am..." Lance was just about to explain something, but when he turned his head, he found Fly Ansel walking toward him from behind, strolling idly like he was in a garden.

  "Vice-President Lance, why are you spinning in circles in the same spot?" Fly looked calm and breezy, teasing him incessantly.

  "I'll be going ahead, then!"

  Fly didn't stay long. After exchanging a few simple sentences with Lance, he calmly continued to walk forward.

  "Damn it, you guy!" Lance was simultaneously shocked and enraged. He stretched his arm out long, wishing he could drag Fly back.

  But just as he extended his hand, he found that Fly's figure had already become unreachable.

  No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't touch even a hair on Fly's head!

  He ran wildly, his body covered in sweat.

  His heart pounded violently, and his mouth and throat went dry.

  He finally reached his limit, and his speed began to slow down, bit by bit.

  Fly, unbeknownst to him, had arrived at a position where he was running neck and neck with Preston York.

  Lance Wolfe not only failed to catch up to Preston York but was also easily overtaken by this latecomer, Fly.

  "No!!!" Lance roared madly, his heart unable to accept this reality.

  But immediately following that, another familiar voice came from his side.

  "Trash!"

  The ones who came were none other than 'Emperor' Valerius and Genevieve, who were in the same grade as Fly. They hurried past Lance's side, leaving behind only that cold word: "Trash!"

  "Who are you calling trash?" Lance was so angry his features twisted. Just as he was about to retort, he realized that Valerius and Genevieve didn't stop either, leaving him far behind in the dust.

  That single word, "Trash," seemed to possess a life of its own, echoing in his ears for a long time.

  Trash.

  Trash.

  Trash!

  "Ahhhhhhh!"

  With his mental state pushed to the breaking point, Lance could no longer bear it. He covered his ears and fled desperately in the direction away from everyone.

  "I am not trash! I am not trash!"

  "I, Lance Wolfe, am not trash!"

  By the time Lance came to his senses, he had already run off the stage, far away from the scroll.

  His wretched appearance was fully captured in the eyes of everyone present.

  It was only due to the prestige of the Star City High Student Council that no one dared to laugh out loud on the spot.

  Lance felt overwhelmed by shame and fled the main exhibition hall in a panic.

  And on the stage, only three people remained: Fly, Genevieve, and Preston York.

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