The next day arrived.

  Lian sat with the gang, slumped over his desk, stifling a yawn.

  “Yo, you didn’t sleep or what?” Nox asked.

  I was planning my next actions in this world using the combined memories and skills from both lives.

  He didn’t say that out loud.

  “Still feeling kinda tired,” Lian muttered instead.

  The teacher walked in and immediately started attendance.

  “Sunny.”

  “Present.”

  “Nox.”

  “Present.”

  “Lian…”

  No response.

  “Lian…”

  “Damn, is this Lian guy deaf or something?”

  Wait—shit. That’s me.

  “P-present,” he said quickly.

  An awkward silence followed.

  The teacher stared at him for a solid five seconds while Lian avoided eye contact like his life depended on it.

  “Hmph.”

  The teacher turned back to the board. “We’ll be revising all history topics for the semester exams once again. You’d better memorize everything and write it perfectly.”

  A collective groan rippled through the class.

  “Oh, and one more thing,” the teacher added casually. “The exams have been preponed. They’ll start the day after tomorrow.”

  The room froze.

  “…We’re fucked,” Sunny whispered.

  “We don’t even have a week anymore,” Nox muttered.

  Everyone began to panic the moment they realized the exams were in one day instead of a week. Desks rattled. Whispers spread. Some people were already mentally preparing their funeral.

  Lian leaned back, expression blank. Not a hint of panic. He’d been in situations like this too many times.

  At this point, you’re probably thinking he’d just lock in and score a perfect hundred, But no he would fucking fail.

  There was no way to absorb an entire semester’s worth of material in a single day without slipping up. Misspelled words. Awkward phrasing. Obvious mistakes too crude to belong to someone like him might make academy suspicions of him.

  At best, he could blame memory loss from the fragmented domain. At worst, sharp eyes from the academy would notice subtle shifts—gaps in knowledge, small cracks in behaviour, the certainty that this wasn’t exactly Lian.

  That was the real danger.

  Questions would follow.

  And from experience, he knew one thing: being different was never an advantage unless you already had the power to back it.

  Right now, he didn’t.

  And being noticed was dangerous.

  So instead of standing out, he chose to disappear.

  Blend in. Observe. Keep options open.

  The exam structure made that easy.

  Written exams were 60%, practical 40%. A combined 40% was enough to pass—landing at the bottom of Class D. which is the lowest of low but it can prevent him from getting expelled.

  He was guaranteed to fail most of the written exams.

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  History. Literature. Theory-heavy subjects specific to that world. All gone.

  Except rune engineering.

  That one was different.

  The previous Lian had been an absolute genius in engineering.

  Having the memories didn’t mean he could summon every detail or skill. Formulas, exam syllabus, obscure theories—all of it floated just out of reach, blurry like the movie watched while being half asleep.

  He could clearly recall Lian’s favourite food, but he couldn’t remember what Lian ate four days ago, or what he did last month on a Sunday at three. short-term memory and small details most people ignored.

  Skill inheritance had limits. Only what the previous Lian had truly mastered—what had become instinct—was fully accessible. Even if he inherited the memories of a top fighter or painter, all he gained were fragments: the motions, the techniques, the sequence of steps. His body and mind weren’t aligned, and anything outside his natural affinity remained unreachable.

  It would be like copying a professional painter stroke for stroke from YouTube video.He could mimic the process, but not the intent behind it, the result would look like absolute shit.

  He still had to spend countless hours practicing to reach that level in engineering, grinding the previous Lian’s memories into his own—until borrowed knowledge turned into instinct.

  Three days passed in a blur.

  The written exams were finally over.

  Everyone had been forced to write two exams a day. Sleep became optional. Panic became normal.

  Lian stayed calm.

  Too calm.

  Inside the exam hall, he casually scanned the room. Everyone was suffering. Sunny had given up entirely, staring blankly at the motivational posters on the wall as if they might write the answers for him. Nox kept whispering to Lin Ling, who was risking his life to help him cheat—only for Nox to ask how to spell the words afterwards.

  Lin Ling’s face grew paler with every minute, despair slowly crushing him.

  Lian looked away, he coud'nt help but smile.

  His friends assumed he’d secretly studied during hospital bed rest. No one questioned it. Only Lian knew the truth—how many subjects he’d fail.

  There was a one-week gap after the written exams, and the practical combat exam was already announced in advance along with other exams.

  A battle royale where all four classes would be dropped into a ruined city.

  And Lian already knew who his squad would be.

  He knew their strengths. Their weaknesses. More importantly, he knew they’d trust him—and follow his plan without whining halfway through. That alone made them valuable.

  They were sitting together in the cafeteria when Nox slammed his tray down.

  “We already fucked up the written exams,” he said. “But who cares about that lame-ass shit. The four of us are gonna cook everyone in the battle royale and score full marks.”

  Lin Ling looked at him like he’d lost brain cells.

  “Are you serious? We’re near the bottom of Class B. There are monsters above us. And don’t even start on Class A. If we spawn near them, we’re getting wiped in the first five minutes.”

  Nox snorted. “They’re probably just nerds who can write essays.”

  Sunny leaned back, unfazed. “Doesn’t matter. We can farm Class C and D easily. That’s free points. I’m good at escaping—if we see someone scary, we run. Simple.”

  Lian had been listening quietly.

  “I know a way,” he said, “for the four of us to score a perfect hundred.”

  That got their attention.

  He slid three attack-type runes across the table, one to each of them.

  Nox raised an eyebrow. “Alright, I’m listening. But if you say power of friendship or some corny bullshit, I’m leaving the squad.”

  Lian smiled faintly.

  Lian leaned back. “Don’t you think our odds improve if we coordinate with stronger people?”

  “And how exactly do you convince someone stronger than us to cooperate?” Lin Ling asked.

  “By leaving them no other choice,” Lian replied calmly. “Just follow me. We’re going to gang up and beat the shit out of someone.”

  Nox grinned. “LOL. Yeah, I like where this is going.”

  Sunny frowned. “Are you guys serious? Who are we even targeting?”

  “Kair from Class D.” Lian replied.

  Lin Ling stiffened. “No way. He’s Sequence 2, mid-stage. The top dog bully of Class D. He’ll wipe us. We’re all Sequence 1 mid-stage—and you’re still initial.”

  Nox thought it over. “If he’s with his gang, we’re cooked. But if he’s alone… we’ve got a shot. Still, we need a plan. Let’s hear what Lian cooked up.”

  Lian tapped the table. “I have a trick. Something that can cause rune activation to fail.”

  Lin Ling’s eyes flicked to the runes in their hands. “So the three you gave us earlier—”

  “—are exceptions,” Lian finished. “Tuned to your fighting styles.”

  Sunny stood up, excitement finally winning. “Then what are we waiting for?”

  Lian rose with them, expression unreadable.

  --

  Lian already knew where Kair would be and what he’d be doing all day. He gathered info and tracked his habits, studied his routines. By the time the exam announcement hit, Kair was already part of Lian’s plan.

  Information was power. With enough of it, you could exploit gaps, weaknesses—both physical and psychological.

  By 6 PM, they were in the courtyard. Kair had just finished his gym session, walking in a sleeveless shirt and shorts, tall, muscular, a year older than the four of them. Strength-wise, the gap was obvious. But timing was on their side—he was alone.

  The sun cast long, pleasant rays over the empty courtyard.

  Kair glanced at them briefly and looked away. No business with strangers.

  Lian stepped in front, blocking his path. Calm, confident.

  “Hey,” he said, voice sharp and arrogant. “Why don’t we join forces for the battle royal?”

  Kair stopped. A smirk played on his face, suspicion flickering in his eyes. “And why the hell would I do that?”

  Lian’s smile didn’t waver. “Because you don’t really have a choice.”

  “Nah. I’ll pass,” Kair said.

  He grabbed Lian by the collar, yanked him close, breath hot with irritation.

  “You don’t fuck around with people who are way stronger than you. Ever.”

  He shoved Lian away.

  Lian stumbled back a few steps—light, slim, barely any weight behind him—but he didn’t fall. He straightened, brushed imaginary dust off his uniform, and smiled.

  Then he spoke again. Calm. Cold and in an intimidating tone

  Do you really think a loser like you can just walk way after rejecting us?

  Kair’s jaw tightened. Veins popped along his neck.

  “Say that again,” he growled. “I dare you.”

  Lain said calmly. "Stop testing my patience, It wont end well for you"

  Already in a foul mood from the exams, seeing a sequence-one nobody order him around pushed Kair over the edge.

  He raised his hand. Rune circuits flared.

  Click.

  Nothing happened.

  For a split second, the courtyard went dead silent.

  Then pain detonated through Kair’s body.