Chapter Twenty-Seven: The Watchman Forum

Night fell, and the full moon hung above the clock tower, draping the white doves of the campus in shadows.

Cassel College had fallen into a deep slumber, yet in one corner of the digital world, the atmosphere was reaching a fever pitch. This was not a physical location, but a virtual forum: the "Nightwatchman Forum." As the official forum of Cassel College, it was the most frequented hub for students to post and interact. It served as the primary tether for many seniors on internships and alumni alike, and as such, it was also populated by numerous professors and staff members who held registered accounts.

The forum was buzzing tonight. Both familiar and unfamiliar faces were posting enthusiastically—such was the nature of the start of a new semester. Students had an endless supply of grievances, from the poorly cleaned pork knuckles in the cafeteria to the sour, spoiled taste of the side dishes.

Threads in the discussion section were constantly being bumped to the top, only to be quickly buried by more trending topics. Suddenly, however, a thread marked with a striking red banner began to rise slowly, eventually pinning itself to the very top. Usually, these red threads signified a bounty, but occasionally, administrators with proper clearance could pin and highlight their own posts.

"SHOCKING! Will the Grade A Freshman become our first S-Class student? Is the reign of Emperor Gattuso about to be challenged?"

The discussion section refreshed at high speed. In less than ten seconds, the pinned red thread had already garnered over a hundred replies. Massive traffic caused the server to lag, and upon the next refresh, the comment count had already surpassed three hundred.

"Who posted this? Where did this news come from?"

"Only administrators can mark threads in red. I recognize this ID—it’s Finger’s."

"Finger? He hasn’t graduated yet?"

"Not yet, not yet! How could I bear to graduate while you all are still single? Your senior loves you all too much!" posted Finger, sporting his administrator badge. The page lagged again as replies surged past five hundred. Having been held back for two years, Finger was a perennial hot topic on the forum—or, to put it less kindly, a master of stirring up trouble. Any thread he touched inevitably spiraled into chaos.

"Finger, you can eat the free pork knuckles and mashed potatoes at the start of the semester, but you can't just spout nonsense. It’s the second semester, where would a 'freshman' come from?" someone commented skeptically.

"Why drag Caesar Gattuso into the title? Are you afraid the post would sink without your admin privileges? Heh."

*‘You have been muted for twelve hours due to inappropriate conduct [inappropriate language, verbal attack on a moderator/administrator].’*

"Watch your tongues, everyone. Though I, Finger, may have been a bit of a loser lately, I’ve still held the position of News Department Head for six years. We never publish fake news! This freshman is a transfer student. Rumor has it he was still in his second year of high school in China, but his bloodline was so exceptionally pure that it showed early signs of awakening, leading the Principal to recruit him personally. He’s expected to audit first-year courses this semester and officially enroll as a freshman next year," Finger clarified.

The thread flickered, and by the next refresh, it had reached a thousand replies. The total student body across all four years at Cassel College was only about a thousand, and with most seniors away on internships, there were roughly seven or eight hundred students on campus. Given that it was evening, it was clear that nearly everyone in the college was flooding this thread.

"Don't believe me? I’ve already dug up the freshman’s personal information in another thread. Here is the link," Finger posted again, having created a new thread containing a long, pre-prepared document.

On the Nightwatchman Forum, the thread detailing Lin Nian’s personal history instantly climbed to the second spot. Every student at Cassel College was quietly peering into the first sixteen years of this boy from China.

"To be fair, it’s a bit tragic," one user commented after reading the heartbreaking resume.

"But he’s a hard worker. Is it true that he had to go work in construction during his spare time?"

"How did the college find a student so well-hidden?"

"I heard China has been doing a census lately. Did someone from the college infiltrate the census team?"

"Excellent academic records, skilled in track and field, e-sports, kendo... Wow, a 10.50-second hundred-meter dash? Are you sure this is just a 16-year-old Chinese boy?"

"Well? Do you believe me now?" Finger added to the main thread.

"Plenty of people in the school can run a 10.50. Even among the girls, it’s not rare. Why do you say he has 'S-Class' potential? Remember, even the Principal is only 'S-Class'," a third-year student challenged.

"I knew someone would ask that. But it wasn't me who said he had 'S-Class' potential—it was his mentor, Professor Manstein of the Disciplinary Committee! I had the honor of eavesdropping on this explosive news, and I reported it to the whole school as soon as I got back to the dorms," Finger replied.

"His mentor is Professor Manstein? As it happens, I know someone who can verify if your news is true. @SeekNoFailures"

Soon, the tagged user "SeekNoFailures" appeared: "What is going on? Finger, are you looking to die? Aren't you afraid my mentor will kill you for this?"

"This is one of Professor Manstein’s students. You can ask her whether the news about Lin Nian is true," Finger immediately threw the ball to Mandy.

In the girls' dormitory, Mandy clutched her laptop, frantic. Her private messages were flooded with red "99+" notifications within seconds. Even her roommates leaned over, asking about the veracity of the post.

"It’s true! It’s true! I am Professor Manstein’s student, and I do have a 16-year-old junior from China. Stop messaging me! My inbox is going to explode!" Mandy posted in the thread: "Finger, you just wait. If I don't kill you tomorrow, I'll take your last name!"

"Bloodline ratings are determined by NOMA, but the 3E exams for freshmen have already passed. Won't we have to wait until next year for his bloodline to be officially filed?" asked a student familiar with the admission process.

"By then, the thread will be long dead, and Caesar might even be Student Union President by then," someone remarked, still unable to let go of Finger using Caesar as a gimmick.

"No, in two days, the college will arrange a special 3E exam for the freshman. Professor Manstein is convinced that through this exam, he will leap straight to 'S-Class'!" Finger declared. "How about we start a betting pool? Let’s bet on whether he can pass the 3E exam and boost his rank to 'S'!"

"Finger, are you insane? Didn't I say that if you helped me pick up Lin Nian, the money you owe me would be wiped clean?" Mandy messaged Finger privately. But Finger ignored her, and after his post, the reply count exploded again.

His true ambition was finally revealed. Within half a minute, a new betting option appeared at the top of the thread.

"YES or NO." The two options were stark and simple.

"I’ll start us off. 'S-Class' is certainly an exaggeration—the last 'S-Class' graduated before I even enrolled—but maybe, just maybe, I’ll get to see a live 'S-Class' emerge before I graduate? I’m betting 100 on the freshman making it to 'S'!" Finger encouraged everyone to bet. Those who knew him weren't surprised; this guy never missed a chance to make money.

"Finger, why do you always find an excuse to open a betting pool? Are you running out of money for food?" someone mocked.

At Cassel, Finger had used his administrator status to run countless betting pools, both long-term and short-term. He had even opened a pool on whether Caesar Gattuso would become Student Union President before his third year; Finger had bet one hundred dollars that he would. He always managed to walk away with pockets full of cash. Some called this the last survival skill of a loser. If Cassel College offered a course in "Gambling," he would surely earn full credits every year and wouldn't be worrying about his GPA.

Yet, this current stunt was truly baffling. Boosting an 'A-Class' bloodline to 'S-Class' was unprecedented. Why would this loser, who still owed thousands on his credit card, be so confident as to gamble his last few dollars on a "YES" that seemed like a pipe dream to everyone else?

"Senior Finger? What are you all doing?" someone asked—not on the Nightwatchman Forum, but in person.

In the Student Dormitory District 1 activity room, Finger, who had been grandiosely holding court in front of the sofa, jolted. He slammed his laptop shut. A dozen students around him were also startled, snapping their laptops shut and looking up at the newcomer.

Lin Nian stood at the entrance of the activity room, looking at Finger with a confused expression. Beside him, Professor Manstein stood with an expressionless face, scanning the room. Everyone his gaze touched broke into a cold sweat. Professor Manstein was the Director of the Disciplinary Committee, and his duty was to rectify bad behavior.

"Ah, junior! You’re back so early? I thought you were going for a physical exam," Finger stood up instantly, flashing an awkward but polite smile as he saw Manstein.

"I wasn't feeling very well... Professor Manstein said NOMA assigned me to Room 303 in District 1. Does the senior know where that is?" Lin Nian asked.

"Of course! Is there anything in this school I don't know? Should I help you with your luggage?" Finger sidled up, warm and accommodating, while signaling his lackeys to be sharp.

"The luggage is already upstairs. Just show Lin Nian to his dorm," Manstein looked coldly at Finger. The keen instincts of a disciplinary officer told him this guy hadn't been up to any good before they arrived, but lacking evidence, he could only let it slide.

"By the way, take this. It's your student ID," Manstein handed Lin Nian an envelope. "If you don't understand anything, ask Finger. His mentor is an old friend of mine, so don't feel nervous."

"Thank you, Professor," Lin Nian said after taking the envelope.

"Let's go, junior. I'll take you to the dorm to drop off your things," Finger laughed, slinging an arm around Lin Nian as they headed for the exit. As they walked, he tilted his head and mouthed silently: "Close the pool—close the pool—close the pool!"

The lackeys had received the signal via text earlier that afternoon. They were one step away from closing the pool, and upon receiving the boss's command, they kept their eyes down, silent as statues. Professor Manstein watched the two leave before finally departing the room, leaving the dozen students to stare at each other for a few seconds before frantically reopening their laptops to check the betting status.

If things had gone as expected, the "NO" and "YES" bets should have been polarized, allowing Finger to gamble his 100 dollars for a miracle—provided "YES" actually won.

Currently, the amount on the "NO" side was over ten thousand dollars, which matched their expectations. But the "YES" side was... also over ten thousand dollars?

"How is that possible?" one of the lackeys exclaimed, realizing that the data meant half the people believed Lin Nian had the potential to be 'S-Class'!

There had been precedents for rank-ups during the 3E exam—or rather, the 3E exam was the true bloodline evaluation, and NOMA would adjust a student's rank based on their performance. But an 'A' to an 'S'? Even the high-profile Caesar Gattuso had never managed that. Why would so many people think this unknown transfer student could?

Did someone leak some explosive intel while they were being interrupted by the Disciplinary Committee? Had someone dug up some scandalous past? But what kind of intel could flip the odds to this extent? It wasn't like the kid had slain a dragon while he was a minor, right?

"No, wait, use Finger’s admin ID to check the betting info on the 'YES' side!" someone realized.

Someone opened Finger’s laptop to access the backend. The others crowded around, and upon seeing the list of bettors, they gasped. There were only three people who had bet on "YES."

Aside from Finger, who had used his own account to place the initial 100-dollar bet, the second ID was "Biyuntian," a stranger who had bet 500 dollars—not much, probably just looking for a fancy late-night snack of foie gras and lemon juice.

But the real shock was the third account. This person had bet 10,000 dollars in one go! That single bet alone had leveled the odds for the entire pool!

The students in the activity room were all too familiar with this ID—it was a name nobody in the college could forget from the previous semester: "Dictator."

Caesar Gattuso, who had placed a 10,000-dollar bet at 18:32, betting that Lin Nian would rank up to 'S-Class' through the 3E exam, with the comment:

"I am looking forward to the freshman’s performance. If he truly becomes the first 'S-Class' student I encounter during my time at this school, I will extend an olive branch from the Student Union."

"It seems we’ve hooked a shark," someone in the room whispered.

"Close the pool! Hurry, close the pool! With Caesar’s influence, the pool is going to be flooded with bets on this side!" another shouted.

But before they could return to their computers, the "YES" betting account refreshed again, and new IDs began to pour in.

"SeekNoFailures," bet 100 dollars on "YES."

"Gudrian (Professor)," bet 200 dollars on "YES."

"Gerd Rudolf Manstein (Professor)," bet 1,000 dollars on "YES."

They were all betting that Lin Nian would rank up to 'S-Class.'

The room fell into a stunned silence. In an instant, the betting pool tipped decisively and impossibly toward "YES."