Volume Two: The Youth with a Thousand Faces, Truth and Falsehood Chapter Thirty-Six: Racing Around the School

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After leaving Jiang Feng’s residence, Huo Ye had originally been prepared to spend the whole night in deep conversation with him, and if that failed, to resort to force. After all, someone as focused and brilliant in intelligence work as Jiang Feng was a rarity, and Huo Ye had only ever seen such individuals listed among the special departments of Bancroft. The Reaper Hunting Corps was sorely lacking in this area, so Huo Ye was determined to secure Jiang Feng at any cost.

Yet Jiang Feng’s easy agreement had taken him entirely by surprise, a stroke of unexpected luck for Huo Ye. With nearly the entire night now free, and it being only one o’clock in the morning, there was nothing pressing for him to do if he returned. He decided instead to wander about; his impression of the academy’s geography was vague, and there were many places he had yet to visit.

Consulting his crystal-brain for a map of the academy, Huo Ye traced his finger along the display, muttering to himself, “I’m here… that’s the interstellar cinema—no interest. The bar—hmph. Casino? Why would a school have a casino?” He scoffed, thoroughly uninterested.

Only when his finger lingered on a road encircling the academy did his eyes light up. In bold, striking letters, the words “Campus Racing Circuit” were emblazoned across it. The school Huo Ye and Alice had attended for years was their father Eddie’s alma mater—a rough, working-class institution filled mostly with ruffians. Though both siblings had used aliases and no one knew they were scions of the Halls family, their aristocratic air was inherent. Even thrust into poverty, living at a boarding school, eating meals worth eight solas and dressing in scratchy, coarse clothes, the pampered siblings were always conspicuously out of place.

Among the poor, cunning abounded. It wasn’t long before some students, noticing their difference, sought ways to curry favor. Huo Ye, precocious and level-headed, was not taken in by flattery, but as classmates, he eventually joined in their amusements. Thus, Huo Ye developed a passion for an exhilarating sport—racing.

On the Sola Colony, racing was legal; one needed only a license and a racing certificate to compete openly on sanctioned tracks.

“I wonder if it’s car or bike racing,” Huo Ye mused. He had a license and a certificate, though only for hoverbikes. If the campus circuit allowed only cars, he’d be left out.

“Oh well, let’s go take a look,” he thought, setting out with the mindset that, even if he couldn’t participate, it was worth seeing. The circuit had a single management office at the starting point, where students also maintained, repaired, and stored their vehicles; naturally, there were shops selling vehicles as well.

Arriving at the office, Huo Ye found it occupied a spacious three-story building—befitting a circuit over a hundred kilometers in length. The first floor housed thousands of cars and bikes, some belonging to students, others for sale. The second floor was a parts store, offering a dazzling array of components and tools to suit every need. The third floor was a lounge, stocked with drinks and snacks for students.

Glancing around, Huo Ye noticed that while the place brimmed with vehicles, every parking slot bore an electronic nameplate, clearly indicating he’d found the storage area. He needed to find the sales section. His previous hoverbike had been destroyed, and during the Bancroft defense, he’d only used academy-provided vehicles—not his own.

Hoverbikes had originally been developed for high mobility, designed to navigate the treacherous terrain of the Wilds and equipped for the Disaster Hunting Corps. They were still used in that capacity, but over time, the technology had spread to civilian vehicles of almost every kind.

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Huo Ye finally located the bike sales area, but before he could start browsing, a deep, booming voice called out, “Well, well, could this be young master Huo of the Halls family?”

Turning, Huo Ye saw a portly middle-aged man approaching. The man’s round, honest face was offset by narrow, shifty eyes that darted slyly from side to side—he had the look of a sharp and calculating businessman, and indeed, he was one of Bancroft’s most successful entrepreneurs.

The rotund proprietor chuckled, “What an honor, young master Huo! My humble shop is graced by your presence. I am Zhang Haiqing, as you can see, the owner here.”

“Oh, hello, Mr. Zhang,” Huo Ye replied, puzzled. Wasn’t he just here to buy a bike? Why would the owner himself greet him? Did someone of his stature personally attend to customers?

This, in fact, highlighted Huo Ye’s own limitations. Someone of his background, should they ever visit a vehicle or luxury store, would at the very least be attended by a floor manager, if not the proprietor themselves—such was the protocol among the elite. But the most upscale place Huo Ye had ever visited was a marketplace in the slums, a chaotic, noisy bazaar where it wasn’t uncommon for someone to pull a knife and rob another in broad daylight—hardly comparable to this refined dealership.

“My selection is quite comprehensive,” Zhang Haiqing said. “Allow me to personally introduce you to our models. I hope you’ll find one to your satisfaction.”

Zhang Haiqing insisted on giving Huo Ye a personal overview of the inventory, and Huo Ye did not refuse. The purchasing process was straightforward: after Zhang’s exhaustive and enthusiastic explanations, Huo Ye paid no heed, settling almost immediately on a Ghost T-5000 and preparing to buy it.

The Ghost T-5000 had been released about five years prior. It wasn’t the most powerful, nor the most fuel-efficient, nor the most durable, but it was the most agile. The Ghost T-5000 was the most responsive and adaptive hoverbike on the market, ideal for tearing through harsh environments. Many Disaster Hunting Corps soldiers chose its military variant.

Huo Ye’s previous bike had been a modified Ghost T-5000, and he was most familiar with it, so he chose it without hesitation. Zhang Haiqing’s extensive sales pitch was, in effect, falling on deaf ears.

As Huo Ye paid, Zhang continued to flatter him, “Excellent choice, young master Huo! The Ghost T-5000 is the most well-rounded model there is. You must be quite the racer yourself.”

“I suppose I’m not too bad,” Huo Ye replied modestly.

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In truth, Huo Ye’s riding skills were anything but ordinary. His father, Eddie, was a legend—able to cut down the mightiest disasters on the battlefield, undeterred by any obstacle—so naturally, his son’s skills were formidable as well.

Zhang Haiqing now seemed to arrive at his true purpose. “In fact, we hold a campus racing tournament here every month. Would you be interested in joining, young master?”

“Campus racing tournament?” Huo Ye hesitated. “Tell me more.”

“It’s a monthly event hosted by our dealership. The format changes each time and is only announced on the night of the race. Winners receive prize money or awards. Since we’re at Bancroft, the prize is always issued as points—usually five thousand.”

“How much?” Huo Ye was taken aback.

“Five thousand. Of course, there are at most four races per semester, so even if one person won them all, it’s still less than what a major club president earns in a term—so it’s not excessive.”

“I’m definitely joining. When’s the next race?” Huo Ye was overjoyed at the mention of five thousand points. What was he lacking most at the moment? Talent! And what did he need to attract talent at Bancroft? A club! And what was the foundation of a club’s appeal? Points!

For days, Huo Ye had been racking his brain for ways to earn points—he was new here and desperately short on them.

Now, someone was telling him that by winning a single race, he could earn five thousand points? How could he possibly pass that up?