Pop Quiz

Zhou Ke raised the gun and pressed it against his temple.

The barrel was cold, and he felt the icy touch against his skin.

Five empty chambers remained, with one bullet loaded.

The odds of firing it were one in five—20%.

Not terribly high, but luck was unpredictable. A single shot could still be lethal.

Zhou Ke closed his eyes and pulled the trigger.

Click.

He exhaled softly.

Second shot.

Nothing.

After all, 20% wasn’t that bad. He couldn’t be that unlucky.

Zhou Ke rolled his shoulders and moved to hand the gun to the figure across from him—

Then the examination hall’s system chimed abruptly.

[Beep! Emergency question issued!]

[The student currently holding the gun must complete a minor task before transferring it!]

[Failure to comply will result in another self-inflicted shot!]

An emergency question?

Complete a task to pass the gun?

...

“We’ve got a live feed from the classroom!”

After a few quick maneuvers by Zhuang Xingyao, a large screen flickered to life, broadcasting the deadly examination in real time.

“Russian roulette was supposed to be the school’s standard luck-based test…”

“But now, the gun’s been swapped for a real one. If the bullet fires, someone will die.”

Zhuang Xingyao muttered under her breath, a trace of unease in her voice.

It wasn’t that she particularly cared about the examinee’s life—but this second round of testing was her responsibility.

No fatalities had ever occurred during freshman evaluations before. If something went wrong now, she’d be the one held accountable.

At this moment, every freshman in the school was glued to the screen, watching the life-or-death game between Zhou Ke and the Skull Society’s assassin.

When Zhou Ke’s first shot turned out empty, Professor Chen Yun let out a long breath.

“A student dying on the first day of testing would be a catastrophic educational incident.”

Then, the screen displayed the [Emergency Question] prompt.

“An emergency question? Professor Chen, was this part of the plan?” Zhuang Xingyao looked up.

Professor Chen Yun frowned, her eyes locked on Zhou Ke’s figure on the screen.

“Absolutely not. The luck test is purely about chance. So…”

“This emergency question must have been planted by the assassin.”

...

Inside the examination hall.

An emergency question?

Zhou Ke furrowed his brow as he read the blackboard.

Why was he the only one being forced to do an extra task?

Was this still part of the luck test?

A penalty for the unlucky?

[Emergency Question:]

[Within the 5-second time limit, locate a ‘red’ item and place it at the center of the desk!]

[Countdown: 5…]

A red item?

Just find something red and put it on the table?

Simple enough—except…

Zhou Ke’s eyes darted across the classroom. The space was stark and utilitarian.

Desks, chairs, the gun… all gray. Not a trace of red in sight.

[4…]

He couldn’t leave his seat to search.

The initial rules had been clear: attempting to stand would trigger the hidden blade behind him to strike.

He wasn’t keen on testing his reflexes against a knife.

Even if he could search freely, there was no guarantee he’d find anything red.

Zhou Ke’s gaze shifted to the black-clad figure across from him.

Beneath the shadow of the hood, the assassin’s lips curled slightly.

[3…]

Something was wrong. This exam was all wrong.

Because… this was supposed to be a [Luck] test.

The emergency question had nothing to do with luck.

And singling him out like this violated the test’s fairness entirely.

[2…]

No time to dwell. Survive first, think later.

A red item… a red item…

Truthfully, Zhou Ke had already thought of one. He just didn’t want to use it.

But as the seconds ticked away, he had no choice.

Without hesitation, he raised a finger to his mouth—

And bit down hard.

[1…]

Expression unchanging, Zhou Ke withdrew his bleeding finger.

Calmly, he placed it at the center of the desk. A drop of blood fell.

Blood was [red].

[Red item detected. Task complete!!!]

Zhou Ke wordlessly handed the gun to the assassin, then asked:

“You didn’t seem surprised by the emergency question.”

“And your voice doesn’t sound like an 18-year-old’s. Care to explain why you’re hiding your face?”

...

“Whew, that was close!”

Zhang Yang slapped his chest in relief as Zhou Ke narrowly escaped danger.

“Don’t die on me, man! I finally made friends with a genius—I was counting on copying your homework!”

Professor Chen Yun pulled a handkerchief from her LV bag, dabbing her forehead.

“Thank goodness… Of course the student I picked would pull through.”

Zhuang Xingyao remained silent, her eyes fixed on Zhou Ke.

When she saw him bite his own finger without flinching, solve the emergency question effortlessly, and call out the assassin’s disguise, her eyebrows lifted slightly.

“Zhou Ke… just who are you?”

...

Back in the examination hall.

The Skull Society assassin ignored Zhou Ke’s questions. He took the gun and, without hesitation, pressed it to his own temple.

Four chambers left. One bullet. 25% odds.

Click.

Third shot.

Empty.

Zhou Ke’s frown deepened.

Too calm. The assassin hadn’t hesitated at all.

Was it possible… he already knew where the bullet was loaded?

“I’m not a student,” the assassin said abruptly.

“But this isn’t personal. I’m just following orders.”

Zhou Ke’s grip tightened as he took the gun back.

Again, he pressed it to his temple.

He had no choice—the blade behind him twitched, ready to strike if he broke the rules.

“You’ve tampered with the exam’s parameters, haven’t you?”

“So, what’s your mission?”

Zhou Ke asked quietly.

Three chambers. One bullet. 33% chance of death.

High enough that the next shot could be the end.

Without pause, he pulled the trigger.

In that split second, he saw the assassin’s eyes—cold and murderous beneath the hood.

The assassin whispered three words:

“Kill you.”

Click.

Fourth shot.

Empty.

The assassin sighed, disappointment heavy in his voice. “Pity.”

Zhou Ke set the gun down slowly, never breaking eye contact.

“So… you’re an assassin. And if I’m not mistaken, the classroom’s safety protocols have been disabled?”

“If the bullet had fired, I’d really be dead?”

The assassin tilted his head, revealing half his face—one cruel, predatory eye locking onto Zhou Ke.

"You're quite clever. But... being too clever can be a bad thing."

"I think I’m starting to understand why 【that person】 wants you dead."

Zhou Ke ignored the black-clad assassin’s words and simply handed the pistol over.

But the other side didn’t take it.

Because...

【Beep—Another surprise test question incoming!】

The system voice rang out again.