Su Lu... Perhaps We Should Add A Ke (New Book Seeking Support!)

White Eagle Federation, St. George University.

The scorching sun of a summer afternoon filtered through the shade of the trees, casting dappled spots of light upon the grass.

The soft, springy lawn gently supported his reclining body, and the fragrance of grass and flowers lingering at the tip of his nose made Sulu squint his eyes in contentment.

He wore a pure white shirt with the top few buttons undone, revealing a chest with faint definition and healthy skin. Combined with his sharp, angular facial features, sky-blue pupils, and short, slightly wavy golden hair, he naturally exuded an air of uninhibited charm.

...Alright, the above is pure nonsense. In reality, Sulu's looks were merely average; he only possessed the vitality unique to a young man, and the fact that he was still a "single dog" as his university life neared its end was the best proof of that.

"Before I knew it, four years have already passed. I'm about to graduate from university..."

Sulu opened his eyes in a daze, assuming a melancholic pose as he gazed up at the sky.

He was not a native of this world but had come from another time and space. As a "salted fish" who had been out of school for years and achieved nothing, he had gone black in the vision after an all-night gaming session and collapsed onto his computer—he had transmigrated!

"Even for a young person, one shouldn't stay up late..." Sulu sighed with sorrow.

As someone who had been through it, he felt immense regret.

It was clearly just a poorly made, third-rate game, so why had he gotten so hooked on it?

From the initial "I'll struggle for one more minute then sleep," to "I'll sleep right after beating this monster," and then "just one more quest," before he knew it... huh? How had several hours passed just like that?

It wasn't just games; novels, movies, and TV shows were the same. No matter how much he gritted his teeth and swore, once staying up late became a habit, it was hard to break.

"Sigh... for those who stay up late, the probability of sudden death is far greater than the probability of transmigrating. Don't try it lightly..."

Sulu sighed again.

Don't think that just because you transmigrated, you will immediately reach the pinnacle of life and marry a wealthy beauty. Facts have proven that even if a salted fish transmigrates, it remains a salted fish!

Well, let me introduce the identity of this transmigrator.

Sulu Portley, full name Sulu Dunstan Andrich Rohard-mon Portley. The long string in the middle of his name was actually of little use; it represented several intermarriages and major events added throughout history. It was a tradition of the White Eagle Federation that many officials detested. In this day and age, which advocated for the simplification of names, his identity on official documents was simply Sulu Portley, twenty-one years old, a student nearing graduation at St. George University.

Average looks, average grades, barely enough credits to graduate, but with no job placement guaranteed, he faced the troubles of unemployment and career selection...

At this moment, Sulu's heart was filled with resentment.

This transmigration... lacked any technical content! Not only did he lack the "golden finger" essential to transmigration stories, but most importantly, why didn't that long name of his contain a "C"?

Otherwise, he could just rename himself Sulu C and embark on the path of a life-winning dark overlord.

Or, he could just go by the surname Potter and play around in a magical world; that would be nice too.

Unfortunately, he was not named Sulu C or Sulu Potter; the above were just the delusions of a salted fish.

"Fortunately... I'm not completely empty-handed!"

Sulu sat up halfway, grabbed a notebook from the side, and began to scribble while biting the end of his pen.

Four years after transmigrating, he had finally figured out his environment. The country where St. George University was located was called the White Eagle Federation. It had a history of two hundred and seventy-eight years, a population of about thirty million, and a vast territory, occupying a place on the world stage.

As for the level of technology, it was roughly equivalent to the period between the first and second industrial revolutions of his previous life, with steampunk being all the rage.

As a science and engineering student in his past life, the struggles he went through after graduation had allowed him to barely master a specialized skill. Given the current level of scientific research, even if he couldn't claim to be the best in the world, he could at least make a living without issue.

Sulu frowned and began to list an outline: "Although some knowledge points are clearly not applicable due to the different world, after searching for information and probing around during my university years, I have still managed to organize some useful things..."

Do not underestimate the elites of this world!

He wasn't some top-tier academic in his previous life, just an undergraduate produced by an exam-oriented education system. His major was specialized, but not deep.

Furthermore, his transmigration was his greatest secret. He had to find a way to cover it up; he couldn't just propose some theory or become an overnight sensation—that would be too eye-catching!

Over these few years, Sulu had spent most of his spare time in the library, looking for points of intersection between his knowledge system and this new world.

—He would never admit that this was because he couldn't find a girlfriend and had no other spare-time diversions.

Sigh, speaking of which, why do I feel like crying?

Even though he had transmigrated to an immigrant country with white people, yellow people, and all sorts of other races, and the social atmosphere was open, he still couldn't change his "otaku" personality and couldn't find a girlfriend. How tragic is that?

Thank goodness, as soon as he transmigrated, he entered university life. He was far from home, and during the holidays, he would stay behind under the guise of working part-time, basically never returning, so he hadn't been exposed in front of this body's relatives.

"Come to think of it, it's quite strange. The original Sulu Portley's family seemed very poor, but the key is that he seemed to have had a falling out with them over something, effectively leaving home with nothing to attend university. In these years, there were only a few letters exchanged, and no relatives came to visit. I'm truly lucky..."

Sulu tapped his head with the end of his pen.

The original owner seemed to have experienced some kind of traumatic upheaval; part of his memory was very blurry, and he only vaguely remembered the location of his home and a few relatives. The contact over these years had been minimal, and in his memories, there were only a few silhouettes.

"Could it be that the memory fragmentation was caused by my transmigration?"

Sulu felt a bit guilty, but he would rather die than run home to verify it.

"Hey, brother, your sandwich! And a letter!"

Just as Sulu was deep in thought, a shadow was cast over him.

He turned his neck and saw a white youth walking over; it was his roommate and "frenemy"—Sean.

Sean was thin and tall, with triangular eyes and wine-red hair. He wore a black short-sleeved shirt and a silver-white necklace around his neck. He looked cool, but on him, it looked nonsensical and carried a sense of sleaziness. At this moment, he smiled and handed over a sandwich and an envelope, revealing his white teeth: "Four Toner in total! That includes the tip."

Sulu rolled his eyes, knowing this guy's temper. He took a few coins from his pocket and handed them over: "Thanks... but as a waiter and mailman, your fee is too high."

"Oh, brother, don't you know the distance from the dorm to the mailbox? Those damn dorm managers, every one of them is lazy to a disgusting degree..." Sean shrugged his shoulders, his face showing curiosity again: "Take a look quickly, maybe your job offer letter has arrived."