I'll join.
With Nan Fusheng's decision, pressure shifted immediately to Gu Yue.
Tang Wulin and Xie Xie both looked at her, wondering if she'd accept. Wu Zhangkong watched, too—of all the candidates, Nan Fusheng and Gu Yue had shown the most promise.
A single medium‑level trial appearance would have secured their Tang Sect membership. The remaining trials were tests of upper‑limit potential.
Nan Fusheng said yes—and if Gu Yue did too, it would be perfect.
But Gu Yue calmly shook her head:
"Sorry, Teacher Wu. I already have a place I want to join. Tang Sect isn't the right fit for me."
Her tone wasn't regretful—just matter‑of‑fact.
Tang Wulin started to speak, but Wu Zhangkong interjected:
"Very well. Everyone has their path. Gu Yue, with your talent, you'll shine anywhere. I'll arrange alternate practical training for you."
Gu Yue offered a polite nod:
"Thank you, Teacher Wu."
Tang Wulin, ever the Tang Sect fangirl, edged beside her:
"Gu Yue, it's the Tang Sect—two millennia of tradition, profound legacy…"
Gu Yue looked at him and added something to her gaze, but shook her head again:
"Sorry, Wulin. Before I got here, I chose to join the Spirit Tower. It's their rule—I can't be part of two groups."
Tang Wulin blinked—so the Spirit Tower had reached out to her already.
Wu Zhangkong clarified:
"What Gu Yue said is accurate—Tang Sect and the Spirit Tower are both top-tier organizations. You must choose one. If you leave the Tang Sect later, you must return everything they gave you, including training techniques. Take your time deciding."
Nan Fusheng didn't hesitate:
"No need—I want to join the Tang Sect. It's my dream."
That was honest—joining the Tang Sect, the Spirit Tower, even the Federation were all dreams of his. Maybe too many dreams, but he was confident he could achieve them—he'd just parasitize more people.
Tang Wulin followed suit:
"Joining the Tang Sect is my dream too. I'll join."
Xie Xie looked at Gu Yue, then said:
"Teacher Wu, I... I'll join the Tang Sect as well."
Wu Zhangkong smiled slightly:
"Very well. That completes today's exam. You'll fill out membership forms, and you'll become outer‑sect members of the Tang Sect. I'll explain rules, benefits, and responsibilities soon."
On the return bus ride, Tang Wulin sat gloomily. Gu Yue turning down the Tang Sect had affected him.
Gu Yue noticed and pulled Xie Xie aside, ignoring his protests, and told Tang Wulin:
"You're emotionally fragile."
Tang Wulin hesitated:
"Maybe…"
Gu Yue's expression softened:
"My choice doesn't mean I'm leaving Class Zero. Joining or not doesn't change anything—I'll stay with you all."
Her reassurance helped Tang Wulin cheer up again.
That evening, Nan Fusheng lounged in the dormitory scrolling through his soul‑guide communicator, one of his rare leisure moments.
He had just fully metabolized his "Dream Thief" potion, reaching level 22 (see Chapter 9 for details). Now that preparations were nearly complete, he allowed himself a few moments' relaxation, costing him nearly 10,000 Federation coins in data usage.
But nearly all headlines he scrolled past were dire:
"Tragedy: Soul‑guiding train from Sunset City to Sunrise City attacked by terrorists—heavy casualties."
"Shocked: Line from Ice City to Vast Sea City attacked again this month. Is this moral collapse or human nature twisted?"
"Anger: New line from Northwind City to Sunset City overtaken by terror attack. No survivors."
"Prayer: New Moon City train struck mid‑journey—many severely injured, only a few deaths. Let's pray for recovery."
"Celebration: A train to Shrek City was hijacked, but an anonymous hero subdued the attackers. When asked his name or academy, he said: 'Good deeds need no name—it's our Shrek Academy tradition. We act for justice."
Nan Fusheng frowned: Why do I keep seeing these stories? Are soul-guides trains so dangerous?
He thought about the original story's Tang Wulin "train‑killer nickname"—but these attacks seemed widespread, not just because a protagonist was involved, but a genuine trend.
At the end of the feed:
"Federation‑backed insurer 'Trust Me' now sells soul‑train insurance: low premium, high payout upon train‑attack death…"
"Experts urge the Federation to introduce a 'train life‑and‑death contract': anyone boarding declares responsibility for their risks, to save Federation resources."
Nan Fusheng opened the second article—comments were full of outrage from ordinary citizens.
Terrifying. Terrifying. To ride a train, you have to sign a death waiver? What happened to chilling out in this world?