No surprise—Xiang Nan seized the championship of the military district's latest combat tournament.
Just as he'd hoped, he was "upgraded" from a medic to a combat medic and a special operations field medic, receiving a higher rank.
Initially, once the tournament ended, upper management wanted to transfer him out of the logistics department. After all, a soldier of his caliber serving as a mere medic seemed like a waste of talent. But Xiang Nan's direct superior refused to let him go, and Xiang Nan himself wasn't willing to join any other unit. Despite multiple attempts at negotiation, the leadership couldn't sway him.
So he stayed in his original unit—but now, compared to before the tournament, he was indisputably the district's brightest "rising star." Even some high-level officers treated him with utmost courtesy. Xiang Nan got the "special treatment" he'd been aiming for.
It wasn't just because he had won the tournament; more importantly, the combat prowess he showcased was, in everyone else's eyes, borderline superhuman. When someone's that exceptional, it isn't a matter of "Do we cultivate him or not?" It's "We must do whatever it takes to meet his requests."
Upper management's attitude toward him changed dramatically, and so did that of the rank-and-file. After the tournament, each day brought a huge line of soldiers asking Xiang Nan for combat tips. Any time he showed up at the training hall, it was packed.
Xiang Nan was happy with this arrangement—it fit his plans perfectly. Using these soldiers for practice was part of his plan.
Now, aside from certain special medical cases or critical missions, most of his schedule was his own to manage. As a combat medic and special ops field doc, he participated in certain specialized drills and missions with small squads, ensuring their physical well-being. The rest of his time, he continued enhancing his body and sparring with soldiers to improve his martial technique.
However, the soldiers' skill levels had a ceiling, so they couldn't help him progress much. Mainly, Xiang Nan used live combat to experiment with and refine his fighting moves. In addition to building denser qi and blood while training, he focused on overriding certain "physiological instincts."
He understood that in lethal combat, certain instincts could save your life—but just as easily, they could kill you. Like during the tournament, when he exploited those soldiers' reflexes: not all instincts are "good."
His days in the military seemed to fly by. Others thought he was like a machine, an "Iron Man" who embraced the intense training and missions. But internally, he was genuinely enjoying himself. He felt he was slowly growing stronger—gaining deeper experience and improving.
The more he dazzled the camp, the more he could leverage that status and authority.
…
Three months later, Xiang Nan received a "gift" from the Republic of Padokea's military.
"Sir, here's the custom coat you requested," a logistics soldier said, saluting Xiang Nan with an admiring gaze. He handed over a garment just as Xiang Nan was stepping out of a classroom in the unit's administrative building.
These days, Xiang Nan was the big name in the entire unit. Everyone in the district knew who he was. Rumor had it that even the top leadership of the Republic of Padokea's military had heard of him.
Not only was his combat ability astounding, but in a few large-scale exercises, every squad he was part of achieved record-breaking results. His resumé was so impressive it made everyone else look like amateurs. On top of that, his medical skill was outrageous—any patient he treated had excellent outcomes, and the toughest cases were no problem for him.
Thus, even though Xiang Nan enjoyed a host of "privileges" as a special case, everyone accepted it as natural. With such overwhelming ability and achievements, no one could complain about his age or background.
Xiang Nan nodded, unfolding the black coat. He'd had some free time earlier and was teaching a simple medical class to the medical staff. Now, he draped the coat over his shoulders.
The black coat was surprisingly heavy. From the outside, it looked ordinary, but on the inside were numerous loops and pockets of various sizes—a design meant specifically for carrying all sorts of medical instruments and surgical tools. The storage capacity alone far surpassed a normal field pack or medical kit.
He'd felt carrying around several bulky packs during military drills was inconvenient, even if they weren't that heavy for him. So he'd casually suggested to his superiors that they create a specialized coat according to his ideas. He didn't expect them to take it so seriously. Less than half a month later, they delivered the final product.
He ran his fingers over the material, raising an eyebrow. It was definitely custom-made. Even with his grip strength, it wouldn't be easy to tear. It felt cold to the touch, almost metallic—clearly no standard fabric.
He took out a small knife and tried to slice the surface. It neither cut nor left a mark. Xiang Nan chuckled quietly.
That's the advantage of having a nation's resources at your disposal; a mere single player can't compare to a government. This custom black coat was a prime example of some advanced military tech. Simply put, Xiang Nan was very pleased. This would now be his personal gear.
"Oh, right, sir—just a moment ago, the Field Ops unit at the district headquarters asked if you'd come help them train. Whenever you're free, even for just a day, they'll accommodate your every requirement," the logistics soldier said, recalling the request.
"Mm..." Xiang Nan murmured in thought, about to agree—when suddenly, his expression changed slightly.
"Tell them I'm not available," he corrected.
"Yes, sir."
After saluting again, the soldier left.
Xiang Nan's gaze shifted to the air before him, where the system interface flickered into view.
After half a year of quiet, that familiar chime sounded again. On the panel, the player count—originally under three hundred—began to climb. In just a couple of minutes, it returned to a full thousand.
"New players have arrived," Xiang Nan mused.
That also meant his second-round trial would likely begin soon.
Since the end of the first round, the number of players had gradually dipped below three hundred. The death rate was quite slow, barely one or two each month. The highest battle-power player, still at Extinction Level 8, never changed—indicating it was the same Nen user.
Over the past six months, Xiang Nan had been analyzing the system's rules, backstory, and any hidden clues. It seemed that whoever was at Extinction Level 8 represented having beaten the eighth round of the Extinction Game. He couldn't guess how long they'd been in Hunter x Hunter—certainly long enough to settle deeply into the world.
Judging by both time and difficulty, that person had to be a Nen user. Also, since no new players had arrived until now, those two hundred-odd people left must have included veterans. As time goes on, those who survive become ever more familiar with this world, blending in and growing stronger, making further planning and progress easier.
Xiang Nan didn't know if high-level players faced the same trial schedule or difficulty as new players. Did everyone's rounds start simultaneously? Or did veteran and newbie players operate under different rules?
If the difficulty or round intervals changed for high-level players, it meant the stronger someone got, the less likely they were to die, becoming even more deeply rooted in Hunter x Hunter. Eventually, with each new wave of players, a few rookies would survive and turn into veterans as well. Given enough batches, the day might come when all 1,000 players in this world were hardened veterans.
"Stronger players would push the system to ramp up difficulty, so the deeper you go, the more terrifying survival becomes. It's basically a big 'raising gu' scheme," Xiang Nan thought, narrowing his eyes.
But from the elimination rate of his own entry round, it seemed he'd joined relatively early. The "player arms race" wasn't yet too extreme—like entering a game not long after launch.
If he was correct, he needed to exploit this timing. While the system's challenges hadn't yet increased in complexity, he had to ensure he passed each round, unlocking more resources in the world, gaining a head start.
"To test my theory, I'll watch how the new players fare—whether the elimination rate goes down. As more veterans accumulate, if the difficulty remains static, the elimination rate should keep dropping, until a certain threshold forces the system to escalate," Xiang Nan mused, closing the system screen and rubbing his fingers.
"Until the system updates that difficulty level, ranking up will be much easier."