The Strongest Brain in the Interstellar

Outside the training grounds, the spectator area remained lit throughout the night as countless people continued to watch this intense orienteering battle. This was a grueling 36-hour exercise where contestants faced constant challenges, never allowed a moment’s rest. Meanwhile, spectators, glued to multi-dimensional screens, eagerly followed each participant’s performance, many of them staying up through the night.

Of course, unlike the contestants, the spectators could take breaks, return the next day, or even review the competition through campus network feeds. But who would want to miss such an exciting live event? Most were determined to stay, each one intent on witnessing the entire competition in real-time, excited to see which lucky contestant would ultimately secure the enviable top prizes.

For the instructors, however, this was more than a spectacle—it was an essential evaluation process.

These students were all newcomers, fresh recruits who had barely undergone basic training. They were barely students yet, and their inexperience was evident. The competition wasn’t called a “campus battle” but rather an “orienteering race” because there were no mechas or star beasts involved—this was all about raw human capability. It was an intense test of individual skill, resilience, and adaptability.

Under identical conditions, each participant showed different strengths, weaknesses, and responses to similar challenges, making it clear who was excelling and who struggled.

This clarity was precisely what the instructors sought. Through this competition, they could clearly assess each participant’s innate abilities, attitudes, and potential. The school designed this event as a way to gauge each newcomer’s strengths and weaknesses before formal classes began, offering insight into their likely future paths. This orienteering event was thus dubbed the “Freshman’s First Battle,” and each class’s instructors were required to meticulously record and archive each student’s performance. These records would serve as valuable references for the students’ future growth and career development.

So naturally, the instructors stayed in the spectator area, not leaving for a moment.

Around midnight, the school thoughtfully provided nutritious meals for the spectators outside, helping them recover from the day’s fatigue. The instructors’ area was no exception; in fact, since many of them were former military officers accustomed to demanding physical routines, their meals included enhanced nutritional options.

Instructor Tan took a few bites but soon lost his appetite. At his age, even by interstellar standards, he was considered senior and nearing retirement, with some physical decline. Yet he continued to dedicate himself to education, determined to make a positive impact.

He handed his unopened high-quality energy drink to Stark and Zou Yi, who accepted it politely, not wanting to refuse the elder’s gesture of goodwill.

Watching the bedraggled freshmen on the screen, Instructor Tan sighed, “We’re able to eat our fill here, while those poor kids likely won’t get a proper meal until the end of the competition.”

The training ground’s harsh conditions were plain to see. Just avoiding elimination was a struggle—finding food was an afterthought at best. Even if they had something, it would likely be a dry nutrient bar, barely enough to curb their hunger.

Now that the competitors had reached a critical point in the event, even the instructors could hardly eat, just from watching the screen. Imagine the stress of those on the inside! The level of danger was self-evident.

Human potential truly is boundless. Even with no mechas, no weapons, not even clear directives to follow—just aimlessly navigating like lost flies—some of them still managed to fight their way through this treacherous course.

Many in attendance had experienced similar orienteering survival challenges multiple times—although each event differed in obstacles, scale, and participants, the core spirit remained the same. And no matter how many times they witnessed it, they couldn’t help but cheer for the dedication and perseverance of these young competitors.

Zap glanced away from the screen, smiling at Instructor Tan, “I don’t think you need to worry about these kids—they’re tough. Just look at the general education students pushing themselves to the limit. If they can’t keep up, then that would be the real embarrassment.”

“A day of hunger won’t kill them. It’s good for them to taste hardship. If they actually join the military one day, they’ll see there’s plenty more where that came from.”

Tan chuckled, “You say that… but no wonder so many parents wrote to me last year, asking if you could ease up a bit. They could barely recognize their kids when they got home!”

“That flood at the supply checkpoint took out a lot of people—just like that, we lost over half the participants. We still had nearly two-thirds before,” one of the homeroom instructors remarked.

“Well, the sudden release of water was a shock, even for me. This checkpoint was certainly unique. I don’t think they’ve ever done anything like it in past events. I wonder who designed this part of the course…”

“I heard it was Professor Dennis.”

“Him? How did they convince someone like him to work on such a project? We rarely even see him around campus, except for major lectures. It’s impressive the principal got him on board…”

The other instructors continued to chat about the students’ performances at the supply checkpoint.

That surge of water had been a major test at the checkpoint—a “washing of the sands,” separating those who could endure from those who couldn’t.

Skill in shooting is ultimately just one aspect—only a partial view that can’t fully reveal an individual’s depth and limits. That’s why this “bug-like” supply checkpoint was added. It might seem illogical or random, but it actually serves to showcase the students’ personalities and approaches to problem-solving from different angles.

At an intersection with no clear path forward, some chose to go with the flow, others insisted on going their own way, and still others adapted to each step and each new challenge as it came. Different people had different responses, each showing unique qualities.

It’s not necessarily about which approach is better or stronger; people who are willing to think things through usually manage reasonably well wherever they are. Of course, along with personal initiative, a little luck can sometimes make all the difference.

Fortunately, Jiang Hui and her team reacted quickly. Even if their actions seemed accidental and a bit reckless, their instincts drove them to try to hold their ground rather than let themselves get swept away. Otherwise, they would probably be like the hundreds of others who were flushed out of the checkpoint by the floodwaters.

Once forced out of the checkpoint, participants couldn’t re-enter. This meant they missed out on any chance to recharge and left without any additional supplies, effectively making their trip to the checkpoint a wasted effort.

But those like Jiang Hui and her team, who managed to stay within the checkpoint, still had some time to search for resources. The box of ammunition Zhou Xiuwen managed to salvage was one of these valuable finds.