Enlightenment

Ever since he could remember, Zhang Tie had lived a simple, even monotonous life, shuttling back and forth between two points. After school on Wednesday, he arrived once again at the Iron Thorn Combat Hall on Mingguang Street. To Zhang Tie, the significance of the Iron Thorn Combat Hall was that it turned his two-point life into a three-point one; between his home and school, there was now an extra stop. Tang De's grocery store was one point, and the Iron Thorn Combat Hall was another. The significance of these two points had nearly doubled the scope of his world. Some might be driven mad by such a mechanical existence, but Zhang Tie had lived this way for over a decade without feeling that anything was amiss. From a very young age, he had known that in this world, those with the power to choose their own way of life were a tiny minority, and clearly, as someone whose parents were the most ordinary members of Black Flame City, he was born without that power. In any era, the few are those who live grand, dashing, vengeful, heroic, or romantic lives, or who command armies and drink to the moon. Most people, from birth to death, are like defective products passing through a factory assembly line; before they even have a chance to see the world outside the great factory of life, they are scrapped and sent back to the furnace.

A school like the National Seventh Middle School in Black Flame City was undoubtedly just one assembly line in that factory. Most products emerging from this line would pass through other lines—the military, factories, farms—before finally being sent to the crematorium to be melted down. This was the life trajectory of the majority. If nothing unexpected happened, he would likely follow the same path.

Over the past two days, Zhang Tie had found his mind much clearer than before. He began to think about things he previously wouldn't or couldn't have imagined. Unwilling to be a shoddily made product on this assembly line that couldn't decide its own fate, Barry and the others had formed the Airplane Brotherhood, silently resisting their destiny. Similarly, to jump off this assembly line, Gelis had pushed himself to the limit at school, earning the qualification of a Level 2 Warrior at a young age. Likewise, countless others had donned the gear of a Prospector, gambling their lives and futures on an unknown path, following one another into the black, uncharted regions on the map, never to return...

As he stepped onto Mingguang Street, the last image in Zhang Tie's mind was an old man he had met while working at the grocery store. He was an old man with hair and beard as white as snow, a man in the twilight of his years who still wore the gear of a Prospector. After exchanging a few items at the store, he had sat by the wall on the street corner opposite, clutching a tattered sword, smiling as he drank wine and watched the sunset. After resting for a while, he stood up, tightened his belt, and walked toward the train station. He was never seen again.

Perhaps it was because that smile in the sunset was so calm and serene, forming such a stark contrast to the old man's circumstances, that the aged, down-and-out Prospector had left such a deep impression on Zhang Tie. At the time, he couldn't understand the strange expression on the old man's face as he sat on the ground, drinking cheap wine and watching the sunset. Yet, the old man's weathered but smiling face often surfaced in his memory. Only today did he vaguely understand the pride hidden within that smile, and the serenity behind that pride—I have lived my life to the fullest!

Everyone in this era is struggling. Some strive to become high-quality products on the assembly line in hopes of better treatment; some struggle to jump off that line, regardless of whether they end up broken and shattered; and others strive to become the owners of the assembly line. Those who already possess it want to possess even more!

When he last came to Mingguang Street, everything on this street had made Zhang Tie feel awkward and inferior. But this time, looking at everything on this glittering, golden street, Zhang Tie suddenly had an epiphany: his discomfort was merely the innate timidity and lack of confidence of a semi-finished product on the assembly line looking at its owners and managers. This was simply the rule of the game in this city. Until he shed the identity of the ordinary semi-finished product that others saw, everything on this street would weigh heavily upon him.

He was currently striving to complete the transformation from an ordinary semi-finished product to a superior one! Heh... heh... a semi-finished product? To hell with that. If anyone said that to my face, Mom would never agree, because in her eyes, I am the most precious treasure in the world! In this world, the only people whose opinions I need to care about are those three or five individuals. As for how others see me or what they think, it has nothing to do with me. Why should I pretend to be the semi-finished product they expect just to cater to their perceptions?

Recalling how, until two years ago, his mother had finally given up calling him "Baby" after his firm protests and started using his other nickname, "Guoguo," a smile touched the corners of Zhang Tie's mouth. Then, with a more confident and appreciative stride and gaze, he walked through the dazzling sights of Mingguang Street and arrived once again before the door of the Iron Thorn Combat Hall at No. 18.

When Zhang Tie returned to the Iron Thorn Combat Hall, the four guards at the entrance glanced at him and let him pass, not stopping him as they had the last time. Zhang Tie looked with envy at the gleaming full-body armor worn by the four gatekeepers. Such armor had astonishing defensive capabilities, similar to the standard armor of a Heavy Armored Spearman, weighing over 70 kilograms. Wearing such armor was not only imposing but also a testament to one's strength. Anyone who could move freely in such gear had to be at least a Level 5 Warrior. The fact that the Iron Thorn Combat Hall used four Level 5 Warriors just to guard the front door spoke volumes about the terrifying extent of their power.

Walking through the gate and past the fountain, he reached the front desk again. With his new perspective, Zhang Tie finally understood why Mary, that great beauty, had "praised his ambition" last time—a woman trying to use her beauty and external conditions to jump off the assembly line naturally wouldn't want to be associated with a guy who was still stuck on it with no future. The way he had acted toward her last time really was a bit boorish and excessive.

Just as a flicker of regret emerged in his heart, he rounded the fountain and saw the row of beautiful women at the front desk. Unlike his last visit, where he was quickly ignored, the moment he walked in this time, he found everyone's eyes fixed on him. 80% of these gazes were filled with contempt and disdain, while the other 20% were full of curiosity. The women who looked at him with contempt were easy to identify; they would glare at him for a moment, then, like a true swan seeing a "very ambitious" toad, they would proudly turn their heads away and refuse to look at him again. The remaining 20% of curious gazes, however, remained fixed on him with amused expressions.

Mary isn't here? Zhang Tie scanned the beauties behind the service desk and quickly shoved his right hand into his pocket to suppress the unruly fellow down there. The beauties were all wearing the work uniform—a tight, low-cut tank top paired with loose sweatpants. At a glance, the sight of such abundance and curves was enough to make one's nose bleed.

No one greeted him, and Zhang Tie didn't care to make a fool of himself, so he walked past the desk without a word. Only after he had walked a few steps did he hear the murmurs behind him.

"He's just a kid, how could he be as bad as you said?"

"Don't you know you can't judge a book by its cover? These little brats nowadays are all precocious. Mary said this guy is disgusting, even worse than the customers. He tried to harass Mary the first time he was here, and he even made lewd gestures at us!"

"Really? He doesn't look like it!"

"Are you interested, Aona? Try it and you'll see!"

Then came a burst of feminine laughter...

Damn it, Zhang Tie knew his reputation among these women was completely ruined.

Since it was his second time, he didn't need to report to Manager Hans, only to Supervisor Baker. Supervisor Baker was the man Zhang Tie had seen in Manager Hans's office last time. His primary duty was to oversee the Level 1 customers—the total head honcho for the little brats from wealthy and powerful families. As a human punching bag for those brats, Zhang Tie naturally fell under his management. Whether it was an occupational hazard from dealing with those kids or not, Supervisor Baker was always long-winded, often repeating a single sentence several times without realizing it.

Supervisor Baker seemed pleased to see Zhang Tie report for duty, and he spent over half an hour in his cramped office rambling on about things Zhang Tie should pay attention to: the areas where he could move within the hall, the places he was forbidden to go, the etiquette he should show customers, and the principles to follow during "sparring." These were all simple matters, but Supervisor Baker insisted on repeating them twice.

Half an hour later, seeing Supervisor Baker's mouth begin to repeat the same points for a third time, Zhang Tie felt his head spinning and quickly spoke up.

"Um, Supervisor, I understand all of this now. Should I go take a shower, change into my uniform, and wait for the customers in the lounge?"

"Oh..." Supervisor Baker looked up at the wall clock in his office, then opened a drawer and tossed a key with a tag on it to Zhang Tie. "This is the key to your locker in the changing room. You can keep your personal items in there. The hall provides two sets of training gear; change into a fresh one every time you come, and you can leave the used ones at the front desk—someone will wash them for you. The hall will provide you with a new pair of socks every week. These are the benefits of the hall. Work hard, young man..."

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