The Shooting Simulation Device was something Mu Chenxing had applied for.
It had been incredibly easy—no need to argue or persuade anyone. He just sent an email to the school’s asset department. After all, it was merely an old device the Service Academy had discarded.
And not even one discarded in the last two years.
The version was too outdated; it had simply gathered dust in a warehouse with no takers.
Mu Chenxing had been hunting for supplies to liven up the event. He rummaged through listings from various school departments and websites until he stumbled on the asset department and discovered this pile of discarded equipment available for claiming.
He’d immediately gone through the entire list and applied for everything he could.
The Shooting Simulation Device was one of the sets, and several of the event’s activities that day had actually come from the school’s asset department too—modified into mini-games and rolled out.
So, aside from the equipment they’d rented and assembled themselves, that’s how the event had broken even and turned a profit.
—Universities just cycled out gear too slowly. If it’d been the Military District, he would’ve milked the system for freebies countless times over by now.
That said, only the Shooting Simulation Device required such a massive space, so he’d gotten approval to place it in the Gymnasium’s O-Zone. The rest he’d crammed into the office—he still needed to host a few more fun sports meets to recoup the funding.
The office-stored stuff was out of reach for now, but the Gymnasium gear? He was definitely using it to turn a profit.
Though it was discarded equipment, the Shooting Simulation Device had one killer feature: adjustable recoil. That was why Mu Chenxing had zeroed in on it—and why it could go in an Omega venue.
But when the application got approved, a teacher from the asset department had contacted him right away, explicitly warning they’d lock out the high-pressure zones to ensure Omega safety.
After Mu Chenxing pushed hard, the teacher relented and added a smart lock program: once a single player’s score crossed the set threshold, the high-pressure zone would auto-unlock.
Unlockable was good enough for now; Mu Chenxing didn’t press further.
The ten lowest-scoring Omegas chose shooting. After dinner, they gathered at the Gymnasium.
But more than ten showed up.
Mu Chenxing swept his gaze over the crowd of tagalong Omegas and raised a brow. “What’re you all doing here? It’s not even eight yet.”
“Heh heh, just wanna watch.”
“Your balloon-shooting video was so cool. I wanna try too.”
“You watched the video? Me too~”
“Right? Shooting can’t be harder than running. I just wanna give it a shot.”
“Me too, me too!~”
Mu Chenxing got it. “Since you’re all here, go ahead and try—come on, I’ll show you how.”
He demonstrated a few times, adjusted stances for a couple Omegas, then let them have at it.
In the simulation, the guns had no bullets—just virtual cursors. Zero safety worries.
No risks meant minimal recoil settings, plus friends to compete with. Everyone laughed and goofed around, having a blast.
Mu Chenxing figured interest was the best motivator, so he ignored their all-crooked postures and prepared to grab some other equipment for practice.
Right then, his wristband buzzed.
It was Pei Yao.
We were supposed to meet after my run… A message at this hour…
He had a hunch.
He stepped aside and opened the Holo-Screen to read it—
Pei Yao: Little Star, something came up last minute. Gotta leave City A—can’t make our date tonight~ Miss me~ [Flying Kiss.gif]
Attached: a photo.
…Knew it.
An Admiral gallivanting to school every day from his post? Totally inappropriate.
Mu Chenxing opened the photo.
A high-altitude night shot overlooking the city. Speed blurred the buildings and streets below into gorgeous streaks of light.
He hesitated, then typed: You okay?
Pei Yao: Fine.
Pei Yao: All to see you for our date~ [Blush.jpg]
Pei Yao: Little Star cuddles and snuggles with me every night. So cute~
Mu Chenxing: …
He ruthlessly closed the chat.
Time was about up. Mu Chenxing headed toward the hyped-up Omegas and started logging their scores one by one.
…A string of them: highest 58, lowest 12, average around 32.
Hitting the target is 3 points!!!
They’d been at it for an hour!!!
Facing a gaggle of thrilled, pastel-clad Omegas, Mu Chenxing forced a smile. “Impressive. First time and you’re already scoring this well! Way better than I ever did.”
The Omegas went wild with joy:
“Really? I think I’m awesome too—I actually hit a few shots!”
“Me too! Hit several!”
“Do we actually have talent?”
Mu Chenxing clutched his chest and nodded firmly.
The Omegas shrieked and cheered.
“Gonna come play tomorrow!”
“I’ll come with you tomorrow~”
“I only got 32. Think I can hit 800?”
“32 your first time touching a gun? You’ll rack up more soon.”
“See, Star hits 10 per shot. He’s at 300+ after a bit—practice a few days and you’ll be there.”
“Yeah, 800? Piece of cake!”
Mu Chenxing: …
He quietly sidled away, waited for them to chat themselves out, then clapped to grab their attention and herded them out for a run.
These Omegas now handled running with ease, even chatting as they went.
Big group, endless topics.
Yesterday’s event, today’s shooting, School Forum buzz about their Association, even classmate romances—everything under the sun.
Mu Chenxing had been swamped lately, and with them so used to it they didn’t need his chants, he zoned out and just ran.
Mid-stride, his wristband buzzed again.
Xu Zhicheng sent an audio file.
Not convenient to listen now, so he replied: Will listen later.
Xu Zhicheng: Oh.
Xu Zhicheng’s tone was unusually gentle: Sigh, I was harsh before. Sorry.
Mu Chenxing: ?
Double-checked the contact. Definitely Xu Zhicheng.
You lose your marbles? Suddenly so polite?
Xu Zhicheng: …
After a long pause: You… whatever. Point is, hit me up if you need anything. I’ll help if I can.
Mu Chenxing was baffled.
Run over, he led cooldown stretches, solo-trained another half hour, hit the vending cafeteria for midnight snacks as usual, then headed back to the dorm. Only then did he remember Xu Zhicheng’s thing.
Tong Xiao and the others were there. To be safe, he plugged in earbuds, linked his wristband, and played the audio.
Shen Mingshu’s impatient voice burst out immediately.
“Don’t keep asking. Like him? Then go chase.”
“That pitiful thing? Toss him a bone and he’ll follow you. What’re you scared of?”
“Bully him? If I hadn’t pitied him, he’d be dead already. Him calling me pitiful?”
“Advice: if you just want a fling, don’t pick him.”
“Someone even his dad and daddy ditched? You get involved and wanna bail later? Don’t kid yourself—he’d really suicide.”
“Fights? Toughness? Everyone knows that’s Alpha Pheromones talking.”
…
Short recording—under two minutes—but packed with info.
…No wonder Xu Zhicheng sounded so tentative earlier.
Mu Chenxing looped the audio three times, ensuring he caught every nuance, then opened his notes app and listed key points:
1. Shen Mingshu pities him, helped him—maybe even saved him.
2. Original body’s father and daddy both abandoned him.
3. Original body craves love but is fragile.
4. Original body may have attempted suicide before.
Mu Chenxing’s finger lingered on the last line, brow furrowing.
The scene he’d woken to in this world—was it an accident? Deliberate harm? Or… someone who didn’t want to live anymore?
He’d assumed Shen Mingshu and his crew had massive pull, covering all traces so the “accident” stayed clean, no casualties.
The Shen brothers hailed from the same planet as him—he’d checked lately. Their dad was just a city-level official on Galaxy Star; higher up was unclear. Central Star’s bigwigs had two Shens, but photos and records linked them nowhere near Galaxy Star.
A mayor was high up, sure—but across the Alliance’s dozens of planets? A drop in the bucket. Certainly outmatched by a peak-power Admiral.
He didn’t know Pei Yao well, nor if the man’s interest was pure lust or real feelings. But he knew men: one who’d hold back desire out of respect for others wasn’t total scum.
With Pei Yao tangled in the “accident,” no one would’ve dared fish in those muddy waters.
Yet when Pei Yao recapped the case results, his expression had held hesitation, words unspoken. Mu Chenxing had figured hidden angles, puppet masters. Now… maybe not.
Mu Chenxing mulled it over, then reopened comms. He messaged Luo Chen and Mu Yifan separately:
Dad/Daddy, been doing Association events lately. Running low on allowance money [Teary.jpg]
Sent. Time: 9:51 PM.
He hopped in the shower, tidied up, even scrubbed the bathroom on impulse.
When he emerged, Xia Weizhen was glaring daggers at him.
Mu Chenxing: …What?
Xia Weizhen rapped the little whiteboard on the wall. “I was on cleaning duty today, and you stole it!!”
Mu Chenxing: …Same deal. You cover mine next time.
Tong Xiao poked his head from his bunk: “Yeah, not cool.”
Tao Xirui: “I agree.”
Mu Chenxing: …Next time for sure.
“No next times—”
Bzz bzz~~
Mu Chenxing dodged around him. “Someone’s calling—lemme check~”
He bolted to his desk, wristband unlocked. Caller: Luo Chen.
Here we go. Mu Chenxing shushed his roommates.
Tong Xiao and crew nodded eagerly.
Mu Chenxing accepted the video call—
A young man appeared on the Holo-Screen.
Refined features, silver-rimmed glasses, deep furrows between his brows. Textbook serious type.
Mu Chenxing played the timid shrink, eyes downcast, voice soft: “Dad.”
A grunt. The man sized him up. “They not wiring you allowance over there? Suddenly short on cash?”
Over there? Mu Yifan?
Mu Chenxing’s mind raced, but he whispered: “N-no…”
Luo Chen: “Got it. Sending some now. I’ll check what’s up later.”
…Mm.
Luo Chen again: “How’s school? Mingshu doing okay?”
Mu Chenxing: !
Luo Chen knows Shen Mingshu too?
He bit his lip, murmuring, “D-donno. We… we fought.”
Luo Chen paused, then: “If it’s bad, grab a gift as apology. Short on cash, just say. Don’t be petty or sulk all day.”
…Oh.
Luo Chen checked his watch: “Getting late. Rest up. I’ll sort it with them.”
…Okay.
Nearly two months no contact; first call lasted 52 seconds.
Mu Chenxing frowned, ended the video.
Tong Xiao and the others crowded in cautiously.
“Star, your dad? Kinda stern.”
“Why’s he telling you to apologize to Shen Mingshu with a gift? No asking what happened?”
…Star, your dad acts like he’s tight with Shen Mingshu?
Mu Chenxing: Beats me.
He eyed his roommates earnestly. “If I message Shen Mingshu, will he even reply?”
All three shook their heads:
“Dunno.”
“Not sure.”
“No guarantees.”
Mu Chenxing: …
Still, he opened comms, found Shen Mingshu, and sent voice: “Shen Mingshu, my dad wants me to apologize and send you a gift. What do you want?”
Roommates: …
That direct?
At this hour, students were either surfing the net and binge-watching dramas on their wristbands or cramming for classes. Shen Mingshu was probably no exception, and his reply came quickly—
“Like hell! Stay the fuck away from me!”
Mu Chenxing shrugged at his roommates. “Looks like he rejected my apology and gift.”
The three roommates: “…”
Right then, Mu Chenxing’s wristband vibrated.
【October 17th, User Luo Chen transferred 1000 Alliance Coins. Balance: 51,782 Alliance Coins.】
With school prices, a thousand coins would cover his meals for two months.
Just a few words over video, and Luo Chen had sent the money. It showed he wasn’t that awful to the original body, but…
Luo Chen had just mentioned “that side”—sounded exactly like post-divorce talk.
Lost in thought, his wristband vibrated again.
This time, it was a video call—from Mu Yifan.
Mu Chenxing picked up in a hurry. “Fa—”
“Why the hell did you video call Luo Chen?” Mu Yifan, with his proper features twisted in fury, laid into him right away. “Short on cash? Why not hit me up? You trying to make me lose face?”
Mu Chenxing: “…”
The roommates caught the scolding, rubbed their faces awkwardly, flicked open their Holo-Screens, and turned away, pretending they hadn’t heard a thing.
Mu Yifan kept going. “And didn’t I give you five thousand at the start of term? Why’s it gone already?”
Mu Chenxing: “…”
He lowered his gaze, feigning guilt. “Spent it.”
It was spent. The original body had burned through it.
Mu Yifan: “I told you from the start, don’t go to Military Academy. Study nursing on Galaxy Star, graduate, and marry some Alpha or Beta—done. But no, you had to go, had to go. Now look at you. Central Star expenses eat up five thousand like nothing, Luo Chen’s over there snickering, and I should’ve just aborted you back then!”
Mu Chenxing kept his eyes down.
Family wasn’t well-off, and the original body’s spending had been brutal. He deserved the chew-out.
But Mu Yifan’s choice of words… the original body had it rough.
Mu Yifan: “And stay the hell away from the Shen family. Don’t pull that shit like your dad, trailing after Alphas like a desperate slut.”
Mu Chenxing: “…”
Mu Yifan: “Think hard about what you did. Write me a two-thousand-word self-criticism. If you don’t figure out where you went wrong, get your ass over to your dad’s.”
He spat a curse—”Bitch and her bastard spawn”—and cut the call.
Mu Chenxing: “…”
The three roommates, who’d eavesdropped on the whole thing, suddenly seemed to load up a gossip module. They launched into loud chatter about dumb shit from the dorm next door.
Mu Chenxing quietly pulled up the Alliance Legal Code.
Tao Xirui, sharp-eyed beside him, yelped in shock. “Xingxing, what the hell are you reading?!”
Mu Chenxing, deadpan: “…Just checking if killing your birth father is illegal.”
The three roommates: “…”
