Less than five days after her "second awakening," Vivienne Cross was packed up—person and luggage—and shipped off to the capital star of the A sector.
—"Freshmen have already started classes a month ago, Miss Cross. It's best you enroll as soon as possible, so you can better integrate with your classmates." That was how the smiling, squinty-eyed doctor had put it.
Standing at the door of the Imperial Military Academy's Student Affairs Office, Vivienne tugged at her suitcase—the same one she had brought with her when she left X-298. She had thought she'd never have the chance to see it again. She hadn't expected that the Empire's army would rescue the HGSH498 civilian vessel, which had been banished to a deserted star, and that this suitcase would, after going through so many twists and turns, end up back in her hands.
But aside from a few clothes and daily necessities, anything of value inside was long gone.
She touched the basic model terminal on her wrist and couldn't help but feel a surge of sorrow.
All her star coins were gone.
This terminal—barebones as it was—had even been sponsored for her by William and the others.
If only I'd bought insurance before I boarded that ship…!
…
" Knock knock. "
"Come in."
Vivienne pushed the door open and followed the voice to a middle-aged female teacher's desk. The teacher put down the documents in her hands, glanced her over quickly, and asked, "You're the new student enrolling today?"
Vivienne nodded obediently: "Yes. Hello, Teacher. I'm Vivienne Cross."
"Wait a moment."
The teacher spoke without looking at her again, her attention returning to the computer screen as her fingers flew over the keyboard. Out of the corner of her eye, Vivienne saw that it was some sort of school operations system.
While waiting, Vivienne thought back to her conversation with that smiling doctor.
…
Ian Yale, who had eagerly "collected data" during her physical exams for the sake of publishing papers, had said to her with a grin, "Congratulations, S-rank mental power. You'll start as a junior lieutenant when you enlist."
The prerequisite being enlistment, of course. What a blessing. Want it or not?
No—no matter how you looked at it, she was already in the army.
Vivienne had responded helplessly: "Please stop joking with me."
"Oh, and let me kindly remind you." Ian Yale had added, "Your enrollment qualification was applied for by the Major General himself."
Hmm?
So what?
Vivienne had looked at him, puzzled.
Did they expect her to be grateful to Major General Augustus for forcing her into the military?
During her recovery period, she had already learned from these people that the blond "dragon-blooded aristocrat" who'd once pressed a gun to her head was Augustus Campbell—the seventh-ranked Irises Major General among the Empire's military leadership.
Young and successful, or as Vivienne had interpreted it when she heard: "Not even forty and already a major general. In a society where promotions can take 150 years, this man is terrifying."
Ian Yale had smiled faintly: "The Major General has a straightforward personality. He doesn't get along well with those old, rigid fossils…"
Vivienne understood.
Upper line: S-grade mental power, destined for the military, pre-ordered lieutenant.
Lower line: Enrollment under the Major General's name, pre-ordered political sabotage.
Horizontal text: That's life.
She wanted to cry. She hadn't even started school and was already destined to be tripped up.
Vivienne, bound unwillingly to the pirate ship, had sincerely asked: "Is it too late to drop out now?"
Ian Yale had laughed so hard he bent over: "Hahaha… you're hilarious. I'm really looking forward to seeing you enlist."
"Regardless of what you do, in others' eyes, you're part of the Major General's faction." Ian Yale had reminded her, "If you encounter any special trouble you can't resolve, contact me."
He'd even pointed solemnly outside: "You've got people backing you."
…
Just as Vivienne was still trying to figure out whether this female teacher in front of her was friend or foe, the woman finally looked away from her screen.
She stood up, walked to the cabinet by the wall, and handed Vivienne a palm-sized freshman welcome box: "Inside is your student terminal and school badge. You can use this terminal directly, or transfer the chip to the one you're currently using."
"The school expanded enrollment this year. You're enrolling too late; all the lower-year dorms are full, and rearranging would be troublesome. So, we've placed you in a third-year dormitory."
Third-year…
Vivienne silently hoped there was no upperclassman bullying in the Imperial Academy. She quietly accepted the welcome package, thanked the teacher, and left.
The dormitory building was located at the southwest corner of the academy. Classes had already been in session for a month. Military training had just ended, and on her way there, Vivienne saw many young people full of vitality—men and women alike, sharp in appearance and quick in their stride.
The athletic field was filled with the heat of sports competitions.
Dragging her suitcase along, Vivienne felt vaguely in awe. She was still trying to angle her suitcase so that the wheels could carry more of the weight and relieve her tired wrist, while the students on the field were casually leaping meters into the air, swinging their rackets effortlessly.
Vivienne couldn't help but feel a bit of reverence.
...It feels like they could knock me out with one punch.
"Didn't get to join military training, no chance to participate in dorm bonding…"
Vivienne didn't know whether this dormitory arrangement was pure coincidence or some deeper scheme.
But regardless, she had no choice but to accept the result. These damned factional struggles—her paranoia was about to drive her crazy.
If the conservative faction that clashed with Augustus wanted to pick a fight, why not go directly at him? Why take it out on a lowly recruit like her? How conservative could they possibly be?!
Suddenly, an urgent warning snapped her out of her thoughts.
"Watch out!"
"Get out of the way!"
Out of the way? From what?!
Vivienne's mind was dragged back to reality. She turned her head and saw a dark ball hurtling toward her at terrifying speed.
Time seemed to freeze.
The crowd around her gasped, but all Vivienne could do was stare helplessly as the ball roared toward her.
"Move!"
If she were agile like a space dog, would she even be here in the first place?!
Bang!
…
"Miss! Are you alright?!"
"Hey, are you okay?"
"Miss?! Miss?"
Vivienne never even got to see her dorm room. She was escorted straight to the infirmary.
The school doctor, dabbing anti-swelling ointment on her forehead, questioned her soulfully:
"Hit by a ball? What kind of ball were you using?"
"It's just an ordinary inflatable basketball, doctor—look, this one." The student patted the basketball twice. "We usually play with tracking balls that have metal cores, but those get blocked by the field's electric energy net. This one's just a regular ball…"
"Alright, alright, stop." The school doctor sounded skeptical. "This little one's physical condition really needs improvement."
Leaning against the bed's headboard, Vivienne stared blankly, dead inside. The bruise on her knee from Scarface's kick had just healed, and now she'd been knocked down by a high-speed basketball…
What a cursed life.
The curtain rustled open, and a guilty face appeared in her line of sight "Miss, I'm so sorry!" The boy, hands pressed together, apologized repeatedly: "I didn't mean to! I didn't think it'd hit you!"
The boy was tall and well-built. The muscles under his sports vest flexed with every movement, making the fragile Vivienne feel even more overwhelmed. But his apologetic posture was sincere. He seemed like a good-natured person.
Vivienne shook her head: "It's fine. Thank you for bringing me here."
"I saw you dragging your luggage. Are you a late-enrolling freshman?" The boy offered sheepishly, "My name's Tony Zane, first year. I can help you take your luggage to your dorm."
Turns out they were in the same year. Vivienne thought for two seconds: "Then thank you."
…
As the two newly acquainted students were still chatting, a voice interrupted them: "Tony Zane, I heard you hit someone?"
Vivienne and Tony Zane both turned their heads. At the door stood a red-haired boy.
His gaze immediately locked onto Vivienne's face. She clearly saw the flicker of surprise in his red eyes.
They stared at each other.
Tony Zane pulled a grimace: "Brother Jan, you heard too?"
But the red-haired boy continued to stare intently at Vivienne:
"You're the new student?"